nothing
about it: but they must respect me first, and then I'll go. Not a
living soul must ever hear a word of this trip that I'm on now."

It was late in the afternoon when he reached his destination. At
the parsonage he found no one but the housekeeper,--a well-fed,
proud-looking personage. She made various efforts to fathom his
purpose, but could obtain no other answer than that he must see the
parson himself. At length he came, preceded by his brace of half-shorn
Pomeranian poodles, who offered to attack the stranger, but were
deterred by a single look. It was not without reason that people said
Florian could charm dogs with magic: the most furious suddenly took
fright when he eyed them sharply.

When Florian saw the parson, his own eyes fell. He was a powerful,
thick-set man, with a white-and-black cravat. Crescence was his image,
to the very freckles. The parson saw something suspicious in the
shyness of his visitor, and asked him what he wanted.

"I wish to speak a word with you alone," said Florian.

The parson bade him follow to his study.

Florian delivered the letter, and the parson read it. Florian watched
the play of his features narrowly.

"From whom is this letter?" asked the parson. "I don't know the
person."

"You know the Red Tailor's wife, surely? Her name is below there, and
the letter is from her oldest daughter. The tailor's wife is at the
point of death, and won't get well again."

"Sorry to hear it. Give the people my good wishes, and if I can do any
thing for them it shall be done."

"And you won't do something particular for Crescence now?"

"I don't see why."

"But I see it, your reverence. Not a soul shall ever hear of it, I'll
take my oath and sacrament upon it; but help us you must, or I don't
know what's to become of us both."

The parson fumbled in his pocket for his keys, and, having found the
right one, he twirled it in his fingers, saying, "I always like to
assist the poor, but can do very little just now."

"Then give me your handwriting for the balance."

At these words the parson looked around him with an air of wrath and
terror. He thought he must have betrayed himself in permitting Florian
to make such a demand. With forced hardness in his tone, he repeated,
"Once for all, I have nothing to do with these people; and here is
something toward your expenses."

Florian flung the money at his feet, crying, "I want to know whether
you mean to do your duty by your ch