s, had returned, and from a locked cupboard in his bare
little dining-room study produced the much talked of bag, in its
_ruecksack_.

The Boy sprang at it eagerly. So secure had he believed it to be on
the grey donkey's back, that he had not been in the habit of taking
out the key. It was still in the lock, and, the bag standing on the
priest's dinner table, the Boy opened it with visible excitement. Then
he dived down into the contents, without bringing them into sight, and
a bright colour flamed in his cheeks. "Everything is safe," he said,
with a long sigh of relief. "I'm thankful."

He turned to the priest, speaking in French--and his French was very
good. "I have offered a large reward to the finder of this bag. But
the man will not have it. Can you tell me why, _mon pere_?"

"I cannot tell you, Monsieur. Doubtless he has a reason which seems to
him good," answered the priest, who evidently knew that reason, but
was pledged not to tell. "He and his family have not been in my parish
long, but I believe them to be worthy people. I have been trying to
get work for Andriolo, since he has been well again, and able to
undertake it, but so far I have not been fortunate."

The Boy took a handful of gold from his pocket. "For the poor of your
parish, _mon pere_, if you will be good enough to accept it for them,"
said he, with great charm and simplicity of manner. The old priest
flushed with pleasure, saying that he had many poor, and was
constantly distressed because he could do so little. This would be a
Godsend. I glanced at the Italian, and saw that his weary, dark eyes
were fixed with a passionate wistfulness upon the gold. This look, his
whole appearance, bespoke poverty, yet he had deliberately refused
five thousand francs, a fortune to most men of his condition. Now that
he was vouched for by the priest, extreme curiosity took the place of
suspicion in my mind.

I hid the blue cap of the concierge behind my back, in the priest's
house, but the Boy saw it, and saw that I was drenched with rain. I
must have been a figure for laughter, but he did not laugh. "You see,
I was in a hurry," I excused myself, under a long, comprehending gaze
of his. "It's your fault if I look an ass."

"You didn't stop even to go and get a hat," he said. "You came out in
the rain just as you were, and you ran--I heard you running, behind
me. But--but of course it's because you're kind-hearted. You would
have done just the same for any