"I beg your pardon! take the sixty sequins, I entreat you."

"No, no more. I am going on my way, and I advise you not to hinder me,
lest in my despair I come back and burn your house about your ears."

I went out and walked for two hours, until the approach of night and
weariness made me stop short at the house of a farmer, where I had a bad
supper and a bed of straw. In the morning, I bought an old overcoat, and
hired an ass to journey on, and near Feltre I bought a pair of boots. In
this guise I passed the hut called the Scala. There was a guard there
who, much to my delight, as the reader will guess, did not even honour me
by asking my name. I then took a two-horse carriage and got to Borgo de
Valsugano in good time, and found Father Balbi at the inn I had told him
of. If he had not greeted me first I should not have known him. A great
overcoat, a low hat over a thick cotton cap, disguised him to admiration.
He told me that a farmer had given him these articles in exchange for my
cloak, that he had arrived without difficulty, and was faring well. He
was kind enough to tell me that he did not expect to see me, as he did
not believe my promise to rejoin him was made in good faith. Possibly I
should have been wise not to undeceive him on this account.

I passed the following day in the inn, where, without getting out of my
bed, I wrote more than twenty letters to Venice, in many of which I
explained what I had been obliged to do to get the six sequins.

The monk wrote impudent letters to his superior, Father Barbarigo, and to
his brother nobles, and love-letters to the servant girls who had been
his ruin. I took the lace off my dress, and sold my hat, and thus got rid
of a gay appearance unsuitable to my position, as it made me too much an