When he reached his destination it was evening; too late for him to present himself at the Prefecture with any chance of admittance.  The Prior at San Beda had given him a letter to the vicar of the church of Sant Anselmo in the city, and by this gentleman he was received and willingly lodged for the night.

“A government project —­ a project approved by ministers and deputies?” said his host on hearing what was the errand on which he came there.  “As well, my brother, might you assail the Gran Sasse d’Italia!  There must be money in it, much money, for our Conscript Fathers.”

“I suppose so,” said Don Silverio, “but I cannot see where it is to come from.”

“From the pockets of the taxpayers, my friend!” replied the incumbent of Sant Anselmo, with a smile as of a man who knows the world he lives in.  “The country is honeycombed by enterprises undertaken solely to this end —­ to pass the money which rusts in the pockets of fools into those of wise men who know how to make it run about and multiply.  In what other scope are all our betterments, our hygiene, our useless railway lines, our monstrous new streets, all our modernisation, put in the cauldron and kept boiling like a witch’s supper?”

“I know, I know,” said Don Silverio wearily.  “The whole land is overrun by affaristi, like red ants.”

“Do not slander the ants!” replied his host; “I would not offend the name of any honest, hard-working little insect by giving it to the men through whom this country is eaten up by selfish avarice and unscrupulous speculation!  But tell me, what do you hope for from our revered Prefect?”

“I hope nothing, but I wish to leave no stone unturned.  Tell me of him.”

“Of his Excellency, Giovacchino Gallo, senator, Grand Cross, and whatnot?  There is much to tell, though there is nothing which could not be also told of many another gentleman in high place.  It is the usual story:  the supple spine, the sharp eye, the greased foot.  He was a young lawyer, useful to deputies.  He married a lovely woman whom a prince had admired beyond him.  He asked no questions; her dower was large.  To do him justice, he has always behaved very well to her.  He entered Parliament early, and there was useful also, to existing institutions.  He was instrumental in carrying many railway and canal bills through the chamber.  He has been always successful in his undertakings, and he knows that nothing succeeds like success.  I am told that he and his wife are persone gratissime at the Quirinale, and that her jewels are extremely fine.  When he was named Senator two years ago the Press, especially the Press of the Right, saluted his nomination as strengthening the Senate by the accession to it of a person of impeccable virtue, of enlightened intellect, and of a character cast in antique moulds of noble simplicity and Spartan courage.  You think, my brother, that this favourite of fortune is likely to favour your plea for your parishioners?”