“Then he will be disappointed!”

I told all the circumstances of the affair to Sassi; I shewed him the rascal’s letter; I made Dr. Vannini, who had given it me, come up, and he said he was ready to swear that he had seen me take the bill of exchange out of the letter, that he had examined it, and had thought it good.

On this the banker told the inn-keeper that he had no business to ask me to pay him the money; but he persisted in his demand, and dared to say that I was an accomplice of the Russian’s.

In my indignation I ran for my cane, but the banker held me by the arm, and the impertinent fellow made his escape without a thrashing.

“You had a right to be angry,” said M. Sassi, “but you must not take any notice of what the poor fellow says in his blind rage.”

He shook me by the hand and went out.

Next day the chief of police, called the auditor at Florence, sent me a note begging me to call on him.  There was no room for hesitation, for as a stranger I felt that I might look on this invitation as an intimation.  He received me very politely, but he said I should have to repay the landlord his two hundred crowns, as he would not have discounted the bill if he had not seen me bring it.  I replied that as a judge he could not condemn me unless he thought me the Russian’s accomplice, but instead of answering he repeated that I would have to pay.

“Sir,” I replied, “I will not pay.”

He rang the bell and bowed, and I left him, walking towards the banker’s, to whom I imparted the conversation I had had from the auditor.  He was extremely astonished, and at my request called on him to try and make him listen to reason.  As we parted I told him that I was dining with the Abbe Gama.

When I saw the abbe I told him what had happened, and he uttered a loud exclamation of astonishment.

“I foresee,” he said, “that the auditor will not let go his hold, and if M. Sassi does not succeed with him I advise you to speak to Marshal Botta.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary; the auditor can’t force me to pay.”

“He can do worse.”

“What can he do?”.

“He can make you leave Florence.”

“Well, I shall be astonished if he uses his power in this case, but rather than pay I will leave the town.  Let us go to the marshal.”

We called on him at four o’clock, and we found the banker there, who had told him the whole story.

“I am sorry to tell you,” said M. Sassi, “that I could do nothing with the auditor, and if you want to remain in Florence you will have to pay.”

“I will leave as soon as I receive the order,” said I; “and as soon as I reach another state I will print the history of this shameful perversion of justice.”

“It’s an incredible, a monstrous sentence” said the marshal, “and I am sorry I cannot interfere.  You are quite right,” he added, “to leave the place rather than pay.”