He made no reply, and I betook myself to my work again, but I confess that I began to be afraid of being rushed to extremities by this brute, of whom I was determined to rid myself.

At last, whether convinced by my arguments or afraid Of my pike, he came towards me.  Not guessing.  What he was about, I presented the point of my pike towards him, but I had nothing to fear.

“I will do what you want,” said he.

I straightway gave him all the money I had, and promising to rejoin him at Borgo I bade him farewell.  Although I had not a penny in my pocket and had two rivers to cross over, I congratulated myself on having got rid of a man of his character, for by myself I felt confident of being able to cross the bounds of the Republic.

CHAPTER XXXI

I Find a Lodging in the House of the Chief of the Sbirri—­I Pass a Good
Night There and Recover My Strength—­I Go to Mass—­A Disagreeable Meeting
I Am Obliged to Take Six Sequins by Force—­Out of Danger—­Arrived at
Munich—­Balbi I Set Out for Paris—­My Arrival—­Attempt on the Life of
Louis XV

As soon as I saw Father Balbi far enough off I got up, and seeing at a little distance a shepherd keeping his flock on the hill-side, I made my way-towards him to obtain such information as I needed.  “What is the name of this village, my friend?” said I.

“Valde Piadene, signor,” he answered, to my surprise, for I found I was much farther on my way that I thought.  I next asked him the owners of five or six houses which I saw scattered around, and the persons he mentioned chanced to be all known to me, but were not the kind of men I should have cared to trouble with my presence.  On my asking him the name of a palace before me, he said it belonged to the Grimanis, the chief of whom was a State Inquisitor, and then resident at the palace, so I had to take care not to let him see me.  Finally, an my enquiring the owner of a red house in the distance, he told me, much to my surprise, that it belonged to the chief of the sbirri.  Bidding farewell to the kindly shepherd I began to go down the hill mechanically, and I am still puzzled to know what instinct directed my steps towards that house, which common sense and fear also should have made me shun.  I steered my course for it in a straight line, and I can say with truth that I did so quite unwittingly.  If it be true that we have all of us an invisible intelligence—­a beneficent genius who guides our steps aright—­as was the case with Socrates, to that alone I should attribute the irresistible attraction which drew me towards the house where I had most to dread.  However that may be, it was the boldest stroke I have played in my whole life.

I entered with an easy and unconstrained air, and asked a child who was playing at top in the court-yard where his father was.  Instead of replying, the child went to call his mother, and directly afterwards appeared a pretty woman in the family way, who politely asked me my business with her husband, apologizing for his absence.