iano, where his tomb may still be seen. His
steward caused the following inscription to be carved upon the
sarcophagus:

Est, Est, Est. Propter nimium est,
Johannes de Fuc., D. meus, mortuus est.

It is said that the wine-loving prelate left orders that a barrel of the
very best muscatel should be spilled over his tomb every year on the
anniversary of his death, and this ceremony was faithfully performed
down to the end of the seventeenth century, when it was forbidden by a
certain Cardinal Barbarigi, of unconvivial memory. The best wine of
Montescone is still called _Est_, _Est_. [_Translator's note._]

CHAPTER IV

CARLIN'S LETTER

Franco went down the hill very, very slowly, absorbed in the world of
things within him, so crowded with thoughts and with new sensations.
Stopping every now and then to contemplate the grey road and the small
dark fields, he would touch the leaves of a grape-vine or the stones of
a low wall, in order to feel the reality of the external world, to
convince himself that he was not dreaming. Not until he had reached the
Contrada dei Mal'ari in Casarico, and was standing before the little
door of Gilardoni's tiny house, did he recall Mamma Teresa's dark words
concerning the secret Gilardoni had imparted to her, and he wondered
what this mystery could be, which must not be revealed to Luisa. To tell
the truth the mother's advice had not satisfied him entirely. "How could
I ever hide anything from my wife?" he thought as he knocked at the
door.

Professor Beniamino Gilardoni, son of "Carlin de Daas," had been
educated at the expense of old Don Franco Maironi, Marchesa Orsola's
husband, an eccentric man, capricious and violent, but at the same
time, very generous. When Carlin died it became apparent that Maironi's
generosity had not been necessary. Beniamino inherited quite a little
hoard, and this maddened Don Franco, who held him responsible for the
paternal hypocrisy, turned his back upon him, and would have nothing
more to do with him for the short time he survived his agent. The young
man chose the career of teacher, was professor of Latin at the gymnasium
of Cremona, and of philosophy at the lyceum of Udine. Of a delicate
constitution, apprehensive of physical suffering, and extremely
misanthropical, he resigned his professorship in 1842, and came to
Valsolda to enjoy the modest fortune his father had left him. Dasio, his
native village, perched just below the dolomiti