“Hush, Tista,” said Don Paolo.  “Do not be angry—­we will arrange it all before night.  He cannot do without you, and after all it is my fault.  Calm yourself, Tista, my boy—­we will soon set that straight.”

“Yes—­in an hour I will have left the house.  Then it will be straight enough, as you call it.  Oh!  I would like to strangle him!  Dear Don Paolo, nobody but you can arrange this affair—­”

“Hush, hush, Tista.  I cannot hear you talk in this way.  Come, we will go back to Marzio.  He will listen to reason—­”

“Do you know what he said to me not a quarter of an hour before you came in?” asked Gianbattista quickly, laying his hand on the priest’s arm.  “He said I might have Lucia and welcome if I would kill you!  Do you understand?  I wish you could have seen the look in his eyes!”

“No, no, my boy—­he was angry.  He did not mean it.”

“Mean it!  Bacchus!  He would kill you himself if he were not such a dastardly coward!”

Don Paolo shook his head with an incredulous smile, and looked kindly into the young man’s eyes.

“You have all lost your heads over this unfortunate affair, Tista.  You are all talking of killing each other and yourselves as though it were as simple as ‘good-morning.’  It is very wrong to talk of such things, and besides, you know, it is not really worth while—­”

“It seems simple enough to me,” answered the young man, frowning and clenching his hand.

“Come with me,” urged the other, making as though he would descend the steps.  “Come back to the workshop, and we will talk it all over.”

“Wait a minute, Don Paolo.  There is one thing—­one favour I want to ask of you.”  Gianbattista lowered his voice.  “You can do it for us—­I am sure you will.  I will call Lucia, and we will go with you—­”

“Where?” asked the priest, not understanding the look of the young man.

“To church, of course.  You can marry us in ten minutes, and the thing will be all over.  Then we can laugh at Sor Marzio.”

Don Paolo smiled.

“My dear boy,” he answered, “those things are not done in a moment like roasting chestnuts.  There are banns to be published.  There is a civil marriage at the Capitol—­”

“I should be quite satisfied with your benediction—­a Pater Noster, an Oremus properly said—­eh?  Would it not be all right?”

“Really, Tista!” exclaimed the good man, holding up his hands in horror.  “I had no idea that your religious education had been so neglected!  My dear child, marriage is a very solemn thing.”

“By Diana!  I should think so!  But that need not make it such a long ceremony.  A man dies in a moment—­paff!—­the light is out!—­you are dead.  It is very solemn.  The same thing for marriage.  The priest looks at you, says Oremus—­paff! You are married, and it cannot be undone!  I know it is very serious, but it is only the affair of a moment.”