than anywhere else. He is the manager of the opera house, and
the greatest noblemen dine with him and thus secure his favour."

"It's incredible! But why should the high and mighty borgello send me
away from Modena?"

"I don't know, but do you take my advice and go and speak to him; you
will find him a fine fellow."

Instead of going to see this b. . . . I called on the Abbe Testa Grossa,
whom I had known at Venice in 1753. Although he was a man of low
extraction he had a keen wit. At this time he was old and resting on his
laurels; he had fought his way into favour by the sheer force of merit,
and his master, the Duke of Modena, had long chosen him as his
representative with other powers.

Abbe Testa Grossa recognized me and gave me the most gracious reception,
but when he heard of what had befallen me he seemed much annoyed.

"What can I do?" said I.

"You had better go, as the man may put a much more grievous insult on
you."

"I will do so, but could you oblige me by telling me the reason for such
a high-handed action?"

"Come again this evening; I shall probably be able to satisfy you."

I called on the abbe again in the evening, for I felt anxious to learn in
what way I had offended the lord borgello, to whom I thought I was quite
unknown. The abbe satisfied me.

"The borgello," said he, "saw your name on the bill which he receives
daily containing a list of the names of those who enter or leave the
city. He remembered that you were daring enough to escape from The Leads,
and as he does not at all approve of that sort of thing he resolved not
to let the Modenese be contaminated by so egregious an example of the
defiance of justice, however unjust it may be; and in short he has given
you the order to leave the town."

"I am much obliged, but I really wonder how it is that while you were
telling me this you did not blush to be a subject of the Duke of
Modena's. What an unworthy action! How contrary is such a system of
government to all the best interests of the state!"

"You are quite right, my dear sir, but I am afraid that as yet men's eyes
are not open to what best serves their interests."

"That is doubtless due to the fact that so many men are unworthy."

"I will not contradict you."

"Farewell, abbe."

"Farewell, M. Casanova."

Next morning, just as I was going to get into my carriage, a young man
between twenty-five and thirty, tall and strong and broad shouldered, his
eyes black and glit