was a French priest, an octogenarian, pious, pure, and learned. French?
Why French? Simply because the character must be possessed of a certain
tinge of poetic fancy, a certain elasticity of sentiment, and according
to Carlino, not one Italian priest in a thousand was likely to possess
these exalted attributes. It happened one day that this priest received
the confession of a man of great intellect whose faith was assailed
by terrible doubts. His confession over, the penitent went his way
completely reassured, leaving the confessor shaken in his own faith.
Here would follow a long and minute analysis of the different phases
through which the old man's conscience passed. He lived in daily
expectation of death with a feeling of dismay akin to that of the
schoolboy who waits his turn for examination in the ante-room, conscious
only of his empty head. The priest comes to Bruges. At this point the
hostile critic exclaimed:

"To Bruges? Why?"

"Because," answered Carlino, "I send him wherever I wish. Because at
Bruges there is the silence of the ante-chamber of Eternity, and that
_carillon_ (which honestly is beginning to exasperate me) may pass for
the voices of summoning angels. Finally, because at Bruges there is a
dark young lady slight, tall, and whom we may also call intelligent,
although she speaks Italian badly, and does not understand music."

Noemi pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose.

"What nonsense," she said.

Carlino continued, saying he did not yet know how, but in some way or
another the brunette would become the penitent of the old priest. Noemi