I'm
not quite sure he is a cure. But he knows as much as any priest, at all
events!"
"A poor student of theology, monsieur," quoth the second bandit, "who
has been prevented from following his vocation. Who knows, Brandolaccio,
I might have been Pope!"
"What was it that deprived the Church of your learning?" inquired Orso.
"A mere nothing--a bill that had to be settled, as my friend
Brandolaccio puts it. One of my sisters had been making a fool of
herself, while I was devouring book-lore at Pisa University. I had to
come home, to get her married. But her future husband was in too great
a hurry; he died of fever three days before I arrived. Then I called, as
you would have done in my place, on the dead man's brother. I was told
he was married. What was I to do?"
"It really was puzzling! What did you do?"
"It was one of those cases in which one has to resort to the gunflint."
"In other words?"
"I put a bullet in his head," said the bandit coolly.
Orso made a horrified gesture. Nevertheless, curiosity, and, it may be,
his desire to put off the moment when he must return home, induced him
to remain where he was, and continue his conversation with the two men,
each of whom had at least one murder on his conscience.
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