e was grateful to me for choosing the one which gave him the
pleasure of making me acquainted with his fidanzata. The 4000 francs
from some other source or the government appointment might drop into his
lap at any moment, and at the latest, he could regularise his position in
five years, when he should be forty, by leaving the service, returning to
the carpentry, marrying and legitimising any children that might have
been born.

So I said good-bye to the brothers, wished the corporal every happiness
and gave him my sympathetic cigarette-case as a non-wedding present, or
rather as something that by an enharmonic change should become
transformed into a wedding present on the solemnisation of his marriage,
and he swore to keep it till death as a ricordo of our friendship.

* * * * *

Next morning Ivanhoe called upon me and said:

"My dear Signor Enrico, I am in want. Would it be possible for you to
lend me five francs till next week?"

I replied, "My dear Ivanhoe, it distresses me to hear you are in want and
it lacerates my heart that you should have made a request which I am
compelled to decline."

"I do not ask for myself. It is for my children."

"Would you mind telling me, merely as a matter of idle curiosity and
without prejudice to the question of the five francs, whether the mother
of your children is your wife or your fidanzata?"

"She is my wife. We have been married thirteen months."

"And how many children have you?"

"I have two."

"Only two!"

"I am expecting another in a few weeks."

"Bravo. Of course that alters the situation. Now suppose we settle it
this way: Let us pretend that you ask me to lend you three francs, one
for each child; I refuse, but propose, instead, to give you one franc on
the faith of the new baby."

"Do you mean you abandon all hope of ever seeing the one franc again?"

"I do."

"Make it two francs and I agree."

"No, Ivanhoe. One franc is quite enough for an unborn baby."

"If you think so."

So I gave him one franc.

"I am very much obliged to you," he said, "and now there is one more
favour I wish to ask of you. Will you hold the new baby at the baptismal
font and thus do me the honour of becoming my compare?"

This did not suit me at all. I replied: "My dear Ivanhoe, let us forget
all we have said since you told me you were expecting another baby, let
us return to your original request and here--take four more franc