they were highly experienced epicures, they were
not dissatisfied with the dinner. Gambardella even admitted that one
more day in Ferrara would not be intolerable, but that was as much as
his second bottle of Burgundy could bring him to say. At dessert,
Trombin called for writing materials and quickly drafted the letter of
introduction he wished his friend to write out for him. The latter
watched him, and from time to time picked out a fat red cherry from a
quantity that floated in a large bowl of water, and ate it thoughtfully.

An hour and a half later the Legate returned from his daily airing,
which he generally took on a handsome brown mule, accompanied by his
private secretary or by the captain of the halberdiers of the garrison.
He came home early, though the weather was warm, for he was beginning to
be a little rheumatic, and he established himself in the sunny room
which he used as his study. He had not been seated ten minutes in his
high-backed chair, with a red cotton quilt spread over his knees and
tucked in round his legs, dictating letters to his secretary, when word
was brought him that a Venetian gentleman desired to be received, in
order to present a letter of introduction from a high personage.

Monsignor Pelagatti had an almost exaggerated respect for high
personages, though he was now considered to be one of them himself. Even
kings may be snobs, when they are not very big kings, and much more,
therefore, the lay governor of a papal province who had climbed to
distinction from a steward's office in a Roman patrician's household.
The Legate sent his secretary downstairs to bring up the visitor with
all the ceremony due to the bearer of an important letter.

In a few minutes Trombin entered the sunny room, and the Governor, who
had dropped his red cotton quilt and kicked it out of sight under the
table, rose to receive him. Trombin's round cheeks were rounder and
pinker than ever, his long yellow hair was as smooth as butter, his bow
was precisely suited to the dignity of the Legate, and his manner
inspired confidence by its quiet self-possession. His right hand held
out the letter he brought, which Monsignor Pelagatti received with a
gracious smile after returning his visitor's bow, at the same time
inviting the latter to be seated on his right, where the secretary had
already placed a comfortable chair.

'With your permission,' said the Governor politely, before proceeding to
read the letter.

Tr