“I was in Rome, most illustrious,” said Don Silverio, “in connection with this matter some months ago?”

“In Rome?”

To hear this was unpleasant to the Syndic; it ha never occurred to him that his rural, illiterate, and sparsely populated district would have contained any person educated enough to think of inquiring in Rome about this local matter.

“To Rome!  Why did you go to Rome?”

“To acquire information concerning this scheme.”

“You are an owner of land?”

“No, sir.  I am a poor, very poor, priest.”

“It cannot concern you, then.”

“It concerns my people.  Nothing which concerns them is alien to me.”

“Humph, humph!  Most proper, most praiseworthy.  But we have no time for generalities.  You came to treat of the Terra Vergine?”

“Pardon me, sir; I came to hear why you summoned Adone Alba, one of my flock.”

“Could he not have come himself?  It had been but his duty.”

“He could not, sir; and, to say truth, he would not.  He does not intend to sell his land.”

“What!”

Corradini half rose from his chair, leaning both hands on the table, and staring though his glasses across the mass of portfolios and papers at the priest.

“He will have no choice allowed him,” he said with great anger.  “To the interests of the State all minor interests must bend.  What! a mere peasant stand in the way of a great enterprise?”

“You intend expropriation then?”

The voice of Don Silverio was very calm and sweet, but his countenance was stern.

Corradini was irritated beyond measure.  He did not desire to play that great card so early in the game.

“I do not say that,” he muttered.  “There must be parliamentary sanction for any forced sale.  I spoke in general terms.  Private interest must cede to public”

“There is parliamentary sanction already given to the project for the Valley of Edera,” said Don Silverio, “expropriation included.”

Count Corradini threw himself back in his chair with an action expressive at once of wrath and of impotence.  He had an irritating sense that this priest was master of the position, and knew much more than he said.  In reality Don Silverio knew very little, but he had skill and tact enough to give a contrary impression to his auditor.  He followed up his advantage.

“Expropriation is to be permitted to enforce sales on recalcitrant landowners,” he continued.  “But that measure, even though conceded in theory, will take time to translate into practice.  I fear, sir, that if it be ever put into execution we shall have trouble in your commune.  Your council has been over hasty in allying itself with these speculators.  You and they have not taken into account the immense injury which will be done to the valley and to my own village or town, call it as you will, of Ruscino.  The people are quiet, patient, meek, but they will