y he is," replied Preciozi. "Your sister and you will
be the only heirs," said Cittadella.

"Of course," agreed Preciozi.

"Has he made a will?" asked Caesar.

"All the better if he hasn't," said one of the abbes.

"If we could only poison him," sighed Caesar, with melancholy.

"Don't talk of such things just as we are going to eat," said Preciozi.

The dinner was brought, and the two abbes did it the honour it deserved.

Preciozi deserved congratulations for his excellent selection. They
ordered good wines and drank merry toasts.

"What an admirable secretary Preciozi would be, if I got to be a
personage!" exclaimed Caesar. "Twenty thousand francs or so salary, his
board, and the duty of choosing the dinner for the next day. That's my
proposal."

The abbe blushed with pleasure, emptied his glass of wine, and murmured:

"If it depended on me!"

"The fact is that the way things are arranged today is no good," said
Caesar. "A hundred years ago, by the mere fact of being a Cardinal's
nephew, I should have been somebody."

"That's true," exclaimed Preciozi.

"And as I should have no scruples, and neither would you two, we would
have plunged into life strenuously, and sacked Rome, and the whole world
would be ours."

"You talk like a Caesar Borgia," said Preciozi, aroused. "You are a true
Spaniard."

"Today one must have something to stand on," said Cittadella, coldly.

"Friend Cittadella," retorted Caesar, "I, as you see me here, am the man
who knows the most about financial matters in all Spain, and I believe I
shall soon get to where I can say, in all Europe. I put my knowledge at
the service of whoever pays me. I am like one of your old _condottieri_,
a mercenary general. I am ready to win battles for the Jewish bank, or
against the Jewish bank, for the Church or against the Church."

"For the Church is better. Against the Church we cannot assist you,"
said Preciozi.

"I will try first, for the Church. To whom can you recommend me first?"

The two abbes said nothing, and drank in silence.

"Perhaps Verry would see him," said Cittadella.

"Hm!..." replied Preciozi. "I rather doubt it."

"What sort of a party is he?" asked Caesar.

"He is one of those _prelati_ that come out of the College of Nobles,"
said Cittadella, "and who get on, even if they are no good. Here they
consider him a haughty Spaniard; they blame him for wearing his robes,
and for always taking an automobile when he goes to Cast