The Argosy — page 297: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

280 A freak of Fortune. rabble rise up against me, insisting that Holy Father, our august and venerable Pontiff, condescends to pass through Monte del Caccia this very day. The women, thechildren, my very sacristan—nay, the nuns — themselves—snap their fingers in my face, and prefer to believe the idle story of a drunken man, who neglects salvation, rather than—what is impossible—that the minister of Holy Church in this place should I have had no breakfast,” continued the aggrieved Arciprete. “I sent my house- keeper, without any personal consideration of my own needs, to Sopra be left in utter darkness of so important a fact! Monte, and the Passionists themselves know nothing of it! Your opposite neighbours, the holy Redentori; Fra Angelo, who is a living saint; and Fra Eustachio, whose brother is the maggior-domo of Holy Father himself; know nothing ofit. It isa lie of that sinner Salvini’s, who seeks to make a laughing-stock of the servant of Holy Church. Holy Father loves saEprists, they say, but he does not love to make fools of his devoted servants.’ Hearing all this, it struck me that the better plan was to send off F ritz, who was an amazed auditor,and ready at any moment for an adventure, on my donkey, with a note which I would write instantly to Monsignor Oliver ; begging him by the sign of the cross, with which I headed my letter, to tell me the truth regarding the rumour of this visit of his Holiness. The good Arciprete, greatly relieved by this arrangement, went into the house to have breakfast with Zuccone; whilst I, having written my note, saw my son set off on his humble steed, with strict injunctions from me to lose no time by the way; to tie the donkey outside the papal villa; and to return as soon as he got his answer, without a moment's delay. Zuccone and the Arciprete had scarcely seated themselves at the breakfast-table, when an interruption occurred. The farmacista hurried in, bearing a huge, improvised banner in his arms, on which were dis- played the cross-keys in gold paper. This was another sign of the public infatuation, intended to figure at the reception of Holy Father. The banner only lacked a few words of good Latin, which the apothe- cary, though said to be a Latin scholar,was unable to supply. Therefore he had hurried hither to find the Arciprete and beg his help and the use of my paint-box. The Arciprete, however, would have nothing | to do with it, stamped his foot, took snuff, and swallowed his coffee. Which sent the poor farmacista to my room in despair. By this time I myself had become infested by the public enthusiasm. Whether it were delusion or not, I began with right good will to paint the required imscription, in large red and black letters, and ped completed the words “‘ Dominus noster beatissimus, optimus maximus,” when, at once lifting my eyes to the window, the brush fell from my — hand. For I beheld below, winding up the road through the chestnut (E©) m (E JOO SS <¢om