id the abbe. "Down there
where the stones are? No. What for?"

"Do you wish to see the Tarpeian Rock?"

"Yes, man. But explain to me what this rock was."

Preciozi got together all his information, which was not much.

They went by the Via Monte Tarpea, and came back by the Via della
Consolazione.

"They must have thrown people who were already dead off the Tarpeian
Rock," said Caesar, after hearing the explanation.

"No, no."

"But if they threw them down alive, the majority of those they chucked
down here would not have died. At most they would have dislocated an
arm, a leg, or a finger-joint. Unless they chucked them head first."

Preciozi could not permit the mortal effects of the Tarpeian Rock to be
doubted, and he said that its height had been lessened and the level of
the soil had risen.

After these explanations Caesar found the spot of Roman executions
somewhat less fantastic.

"How would you like to go to that church in the Forum?" said Preciozi.

"I was going to propose that we should go to the hotel; it must be
lunch-time."

"Come along."

_THE CHURCH AND COOKING_

Caesar had Marsala and Asti brought for the abbe, who was a gourmet.

While Preciozi ate and drank with all his jaws, Caesar devoted himself
to teasing him. The waiter had brought some cream-puffs and informed
them that that was a dish every one ate that day. Laura and Preciozi
praised the puffs, and Caesar said:

"What an admirable religion ours is! For each day the church has a saint
and a special dish. The truth is that the Catholic Church is very wise;
it has broken all relations with science, but it remains in harmony with
cooking. As Preciozi was a moment ago saying with great exactitude,
this close relation that exists between the Church and the kitchen is
moving."

"I said that to you?" asked Preciozi. "What a falsehood!"

"Don't pay any attention," said Laura.

"Yes, my dear abbe," retorted Caesar, "and I even believe that you added
confidentially that sometimes the Pope in the Vatican gardens, imitating
Francis I after the battle of Pavia, is wont to say sadly to the
Secretary of State: 'All is lost, save faith and... good cooking.'"

"What a _bufone!_ What a bufone!" exclaimed Preciozi, with his mouth
full.

"You are giving a proof of irreligion which is in bad taste," said
Laura. "Only janitors talk like that."

"On such questions I am an honourary janitor."

"That's all right, but you ought to realiz