He produced his passport and put it in my hands.  I found myself about to be described as “Issacaro, Ebreo, vendor of pious objects,” licensed by the Sacred College and vouched for by the Grand Inquisitor.  My features were said to be fleshy, my nose pendulous, my hair black and curly, my shoulders narrow, my manner assured.  I objected that the description would never pass me over the frontier; but Issachar replied, “Have no concern on that score.  Observe my shoulders, they are as level as your own.  Can it be said of my manner that it fails of delicacy?  That passport was no more mine than it is now.  The fact is that a passport is needed to distinguish one man from another; and if the traveller have no particular features, these must be found for him.  These crucifixes will save you.”

“That,” I said, “as a Christian, I am not allowed to deny.”

“I have a round score of them left,” says he.  “Let us figure up the whole.  The passport I could not let go for less than two ducats; upon my soul and honour it cost me near three.  The hat, the coat, shoes and stockings—­well, can we say less than a ducat and a half?  Surely not.  The workmanship alone is worth the money.  For the crucifixes, which are very fine, and in the rococo manner now so much esteemed, I cannot say a quattrino less than four ducats, nor can a Christian, I suppose, set any bounds to the value he places upon that symbol.  My price, therefore, is nominal—­an act of charity on my part, which my sympathy with your sad story moves me to do.  I believe you had in your breeches pocket some ten ducats and a few broad pieces.  Supposing I take seven ducats and conclude the bargain—­what do you say?  Will you shake hands upon it?” He looked pleasantly at me, holding out his hand.

The crucifixes were large—­the image of plaster, the cross of white wood.  The price was exorbitant; but I felt the force of his argument, that no Christian could set bounds to the value of such a symbol.  Moreover, the trade attracted me.  To walk the world as a pedlar of crucifixes—­could one conceive a nobler employment?  I, at least, could not.  The merchandise so noble that it could not be degraded by the merchant, the merchant so ignoble that he must needs be dignified by the merchandise—­the cross, emblem of sacrifice, emblem of divine compassion, divine providence and humility!  I must be excused if I saw here something more than happy coincidence, if I fell into a mood of dangerous exaltation.  I embraced my new career with fervour, I embraced my stock-in-trade.  “Oh, thou unique and venerable wood,” I cried, “often as thou hast been carried into men’s affairs, in the forefront of red battle, to preside over the consecrations of pontiffs and emperors, to abase kings, to lend criminals a final hope, never yet hast thou submitted thyself to a sinner in sorer need, but never also found sincerer champion than Francis Strelley!  Under this sign did Constantius Caesar subdue Chosroes; under it shall riotous Francis tread down himself!” I bade Issachar take his purchase-money; I thanked him warmly for his friendly thoughts of me; and having put on the coat, hat, and other garments he had sold me, set out once more, after a day’s and night’s repose, which were complete enough to make further inactivity impossible.