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"I could not repeat his words. He flew into a passion at me for

my suspicions, and at the same time confirmed me in them: he

insulted me, and then called himself offended; threatened, and

complained. Ask no farther. He did not utter the name of Lucy,

nor even pretend to know you: he affected to intend nothing. In

short, I heard enough to feel that he is inexorable. But

confidence in God! Poor children! be patient, be submissive! And

thou, Renzo! believe that I sympathise with all that passes in

thy heart.-But patience! It is a poor word, a bitter word to

those who want faith; but, Renzo, will you not let God work? Will

you not trust Him? Let Him work, Renzo; and, for your

consolation, know that I hold in my hand a clue, by which I hope

to extricate you from your distress. I cannot say more now.

To-morrow I shall not be here; I shall be all day at the convent

employed for you.