eful and affectionate she was when I told her that I
meant to stay another month! How she blessed the bad weather which had
driven me back. We slept together every night, not excepting those nights
forbidden by the laws of Moses.

I gave her the little gold heart, which might be worth ten sequins, but
that would be no reward for the care she had taken of my linen. She also
made me accept some splendid Indian handkerchiefs. Six years later I met
her again at Pesaro.

I left Ancona on November 14th, and on the 15th I was at Trieste.

CHAPTER XXI

Pittoni--Zaguri--The Procurator Morosini--The Venetian
Consul--Gorice--The French Consul--Madame Leo--My Devotion to The State
Inquisitors--Strasoldo--Madame Cragnoline--General Burghausen

The landlord asked me my name, we made our agreement, and I found myself
very comfortably lodged. Next day I went to the post-office and found
several letters which had been awaiting me for the last month. I opened
one from M. Dandolo, and found an open enclosure from the patrician Marco
Dona, addressed to Baron Pittoni, Chief of Police. On reading it, I found
I was very warmly commended to the baron. I hastened to call on him, and
gave him the letter, which he took but did not read. He told me that M.
Donna had written to him about me, and that he would be delighted to do
anything in his power for me.

I then took Mardocheus's letter to his friend Moses Levi. I had not the
slightest idea that the letter had any reference to myself, so I gave it
to the first clerk that I saw in the office.

Levi was an honest and an agreeable man, and the next day he called on me
and offered me his services in the most cordial manner. He shewed me the
letter I had delivered, and I was delighted to find that it referred to
myself. The worthy Mardocheus begged him to give me a hundred sequins in
case I needed any money, adding that any politeness shewn to me would be
as if shewn to himself.

This behaviour on the part of Mardocheus filled me with gratitude, and
reconciled me, so to speak, with the whole Jewish nation. I wrote him a
letter of thanks, offering to serve him at Venice in any way I could.

I could not help comparing the cordiality of Levi's welcome with the
formal and ceremonious reception of Baron Pittoni. The baron was ten or
twelve years younger than I. He was a man of parts, and quite devoid of
prejudice. A sworn foe of 'meum and tuum', and wholly incapable of
economy, he left the