one of our duties but the faithful delivery
of letters being the most important of the commissions committed to our
care, we should not be trusted if we could not read the address of the
letters placed in our hands. The nuns wanted to be sure that we shall not
give to Peter the letter addressed to Paul. The good mothers are always
afraid of our being guilty of such blunders. Therefore I shall be here
again, without fail, this day week at the same hour, but please to order
your servant to wake you in case you should be asleep, for our time is
measured as if it were gold. Above all, rely entirely upon my discretion
as long as you employ me; for if I did not know how to keep a silent
tongue in my head I should lose my bread, and then what would become of
me--a widow with four children, a boy eight years old, and three pretty
girls, the eldest of whom is only sixteen? You can see them when you come
to Muran. I live near the church, on the garden side, and I am always at
home when I am not engaged in the service of the nuns, who are always
sending me on one commission or another. The young lady--I do not know
her name yet, for she has only been one week with us--gave me this
letter, but so cleverly! Oh! she must be as witty as she is pretty, for
three nuns who were there were completely bamboozled. She gave it to me
with this other letter for myself, which I likewise leave in your hands.
Poor child! she tells me to be discreet! She need not be afraid. Write to
her, I entreat you, sir, that she can trust me, and answer boldly. I
would not tell you to act in the same manner with all the other
messengers of the convent, although I believe them to be honest--and God
forbid I should speak ill of my fellow-creature--but they are all
ignorant, you see; and it is certain that they babble, at least, with
their confessors, if with nobody else. As for me, thank God! I know very
well that I need not confess anything but my sins, and surely to carry a
letter from a Christian woman to her brother in Christ is not a sin.
Besides, my confessor is a good old monk, quite deaf, I believe, for the
worthy man never answers me; but that is his business, not mine!"
I had not intended to ask her any questions, but if such had been my
intention she would not have given me time to carry it into execution;
and without my asking her anything, she was telling me everything I cared
to know, and she did so in her anxiety for me to avail myself of her
serv
|