The money was returned to the
owners, who were received with courtesy by the arch-priest, from whose
very lips they heard a detailed account of the late miracle, and so
delighted were they with the simplicity and urbanity of their new
acquaintance, that they each made him a handsome present out of the
money restored to them, for the benefit of his church, and perhaps as a
slight compensation for the dissatisfaction he must have felt at the
miracle not proving genuine. The diamond ring likewise fell to the lot of the arch-priest, with the
full permission from the donor to dispose of it as he might think fit,
and after an exchange of compliments and civilities, the Englishmen took
their departure. The duplicity and avarice of the sacristan having now fairly come to
light, he was dismissed, and another chosen to supply his place. Meanwhile the trial of Antonio was going on in the township of
Gennazzano. Being summoned to appear as a witness, I was forced to go,
and had the satisfaction of being mainly instrumental in the acquittal
of my friend, who returned to his native village, where on his arrival
he was carried in triumph over the heads of the cheering populace. The sum presented to the arch-priest, together with the diamond ring,
which had been taken to Rome to be estimated and converted into money,
was expended by our pastor in alleviating the sufferings of the poor
amongst his flock, after which there remained a surplus sufficient to
purchase two silver candlesticks for the altar of San Rocco, the
protecting saint of the village. Peppe had judiciously hidden himself in the mountains until the fury of
his patients had considerably abated, but Antonio discovering him one
day, renewed his claim to the three pauls. I forget the excuse he made
on this occasion, but I know for a certainty that the debt was never
repaid during the whole of my stay in that part of the country. Some months passed over without anything worthy of record, but the
sequel of this narrative is to come. A friar, unknown to the inhabitants
of our village, appeared one Sunday morning to perform mass in the
Church of San Rocco. His shaven crown, bronzed skin, and high aquiline
features made him an object of intense veneration among the devout
congregation, as being unmistakable signs of a pure and austere life. He
was a man of middle age, tall, and well knit, his beard on the verge of
turning grey. The features were worn, but energetic, yet a physiognomist
might have observed that the eyes were somewhat small in comparison with
the rest of the face and moved rather too rapidly and furtively from
left to right than was strictly necessary to complete the physiognomy of
one whose life had been completely devoted to religious contemplation. His arrival had created a sensation in the village, and many who had
never confessed from one year's end to the other, impelled by curiosity,
flocked to the church that day to confess to the stranger monk,
imagining, no doubt, that the absolution of one from afar and unknown in
the villages was more valid than that of the arch-priest or any more
familiar prelate. Familiarity breeds contempt, as we all know, therefore we so often find
that Roman Catholics prefer confessing to some priest or friar that they
meet for the first time, and are not likely to meet again, rather than
to their parish priest, to whom the most secret thought of their inner
lives is already known. Among those who flocked to confess to the stranger monk, whose majestic
bearing had impressed everyone with his sanctity, were our two friends
Antonio and Peppe, who, having neither of them confessed for a very long
time, sought this opportunity of disburdening their souls of those sins
they were ashamed of confessing to a priest of their own native village. Antonio, to whom I am indebted for the sequel of this tale, declared to
me that he experienced a thrill he was unable to account for as the
friar entered the confessional; but setting this down to nervousness at
not having confessed for so long, he endeavoured to concentrate his
thoughts, and began what is called a "general confession," commencing
with the sins of his earliest childhood down to those of recent date. Fancying that he might have been guilty of avarice in pressing too
hardly on his friend for the debt of the three pauls and of sacrilege in
having hidden all night in the confessional, and afterwards quarrelling
with his friend over the treasure within the very church itself, it
occurred to him to relate the whole circumstance to the father
confessor, not omitting the entry of the brigands and their subsequent
fright at what they supposed to be the sudden resurrection of one from
the dead. Now, Antonio during the whole of this confession had his eyes fixed upon
the countenance of his confessor, which he could see distinctly through
the grating. It struck him from the first that the features of the monk
were familiar to him, yet he could not call to mind where or under what
circumstances he had seen them before. He had been racking his brain for
some time past in order to recollect where he had ever met him, but to
no purpose. He observed that when he began enumerating all the peccadilloes of his
early years the confessor evinced the utmost indifference, yawning every
now and then, and not deigning a reply; but as soon as he began to talk
about the miracle and the treasure abandoned by the brigands in their
fright, he immediately pricked up his ears and changed colour. "Eh, what?" he cried, suddenly waking out of a doze. "Just oblige me by
beginning that again, will you?" Antonio, though somewhat surprised at the monk's abrupt change of
manner, nevertheless set it down to the natural interest that so
extraordinary a tale inspired, and recommenced his story, detailing
nicely every circumstance, especially the feigned death of Peppe; with
an exact description of his own feelings at the time. Now it happened that Peppe, being in church, and seeing his friend on
his knees at the confessional, thought he could do no less than confess
likewise, so, falling on his knees on the opposite side to his friend,
he prepared to pour out his soul through the opposite grating, into the
left ear of the father confessor, as soon as his friend should have
risen from his knees. Antonio at length having finished, and received absolution, remained a
moment or two in prayer, whilst Peppe took his turn. Whatever the
subject of Peppe's confession might have been, it had an extraordinary
effect upon the monk. He became visibly agitated, and the muscles of his
face twitched nervously. "Then it wasn't a miracle, after all," he gasped, throwing himself back,
while something strongly resembling an oath rose to his lips, but was
instantly stifled. His bronzed features had become livid, and hastily
giving his absolution, he hurried from the confessional.