"It is not for me to confess you one thing or another, Fra Clemente--to
call you so"--I replied; "except that you have made me party to some
abominable falsehoods. However, I have benefited by them, and am willing
to believe that you acted for the best, which is more than I can say for
your endeavours upon our last meeting at Rovigo. May I remind you of
that?"

If I had hoped to startle him I was very much mistaken. The Capuchin at
once sobered down, and became confidential and affectionate. He put his
arm round my neck and spoke with feeling. "You have as good a memory as
I have, I see," he said, laughing pleasantly. "I had not intended to
recall to your mind a time when I confess to having been the victim of
prejudice. And without going so far as to say that I followed you solely
to remove your suspicions--that would not be the truth--I shall own that
I had you much in my thoughts, and hoped more than once that we might
cross paths. My prayer is answered. I shall set to work to convince you
of my good intentions towards you. Perfect confidence of man to man--
shall it not be so? If I cannot help you it will be surprising: you have
seen how I can help myself."

I did not again remind him that I had seen that very clearly when, at
Rovigo, his foot had been clapped upon my coins; but Fra Clemente, if
that were his name, saw that it was remembered.

"Your money, let me say, would have been safer with me than with that
oily thief Issachar," he said calmly, "but let that pass. You saw fit to
trust him, and now you can judge how far I am to be trusted. I have
nothing to complain of and nothing to hide. I hope you can say the
same." I was silent.