Page:Manzoni - The Betrothed, 1834.djvu/307

 arrive at the village, and go to my home. Lucy has no longer any need of me; she is under good protection; and, after so many fatigues, I may claim the right to take some repose.—But, should my lord be seized with the desire to know all her story, and I be compelled to relate the affair of the marriage! there would then be nothing wanting to complete my misery. And if he should visit my parish! Oh! let come what will, I will not torment myself beforehand! I have cares enough. For the present I shall shut myself up at home. But I foresee too well that my last days must be passed in trouble and vexation."

The little troop arrived before the services of the church were over; and passing, as they had previously done, through the crowd, they proceeded to the house of Lucy's companion.

Hardly had Don Abbondio alighted from his mule, when, making the most profuse compliments to the Unknown, he begged him to apologise for him to the cardinal, as he was obliged to return directly to his parish on some urgent business. He then went in search of a staff that he had left in the hall, and which he was accustomed to call his horse, and proceeded homewards. The Unknown remained at the cardinal's house, awaiting his return from the church.

The good dame hastened to procure Lucy some refreshment to recruit her exhausted powers; she put some dry branches under a kettle which she replaced over the fire, and in which swam a good fowl; after having suffered it to boil a moment, she filled a plate with the soup, and offered it to Lucy, congratulating herself that the affair had happened on a day, when, as she said, "the cat was not on the hearth." "It is a day of feasting for all the world," added she, "except for those unfortunate creatures who can hardly obtain bread of vetches, and a polenta of millet; they hope, however, to receive something from our charitable cardinal. As for us, thank heaven, we are not in that situation; between the trade of my husband and a small piece of land, we manage to live comfortably. Eat, then, poor child, with a good appetite; the fowl will be done presently, and you shall have something better."