danger of the marchese? She blushed at the supposition, and asked me
what I was thinking her. Had she been alarmed on my account? No, not at
first; but later she had been making inquiries. Had I been uneasy? I
confessed that I had. Fra Palamone, with some magnanimity, left us alone
for the best part of an hour; he sat, I remember, on the edge of the
hill looking towards Pistoja, reading his breviary, well removed from
earshot. This gave Virginia opportunity to exhibit her view of his
behaviour. "We had better travel with him for a while," she said. "He is
known all over the country for a desperate rascal, but is privy to too
many secrets to be apprehended. Nobody dares lay him by the heels for
fear of what he will divulge; and the more you thwart him the more risk
you run. He might easily kill you in a rage; he thinks no more of
stabbing a man than of skewering a sausage. I grant you that your
suspicions do him no wrong. He would sell you in a moment to any one who
would buy you. But they are groundless; it is quite plain what he wants.
He sees that you are a foreigner of good birth and position; he knows
you for a truant on an escapade. Being certain that there will be hue
and cry after you, a large reward offered, he means to keep you under
his eye until the price is high enough to tempt him, then he will
produce you and get the bounty. Call him brigand, say he holds you to
ransom, you will be right. Meantime he will make you useful, as you will
see when we are in Prato. Me, too, he will use; but not as you might
suppose. His one passion is money, his besetting sins are gluttony and
rage; he has no other appetites, I believe. For myself, I shall serve
him as well as I can, and I advise you to do the same. Ways of escape
will occur to us by-and-by."

I could see that she was right. Here was his plan--infinitely creditable
to him compared to the other. I promised Virginia that I would humour
him for the present; and just then the man himself came to us with two