"May God bless and protect you!" said the other, becoming thoughtful; he knew the _King of Spades_ well. Then he administered what comfort he could, and asked what Giovanna had written herself, and when. Alas! she wrote but seldom now and never more than a few lines at a time. It seemed almost as if, after the child's death, she had nothing to write about. In her last letter she had told him that the weather was bitterly cold; there had been two snow-storms, in one of which a man, while attempting to cross the mountains, had been frozen to death. And then she had added that they were having a famine. These accounts, of course, preyed upon Costantino's mind. He would dream constantly that he had been taken to Nuoro and given his liberty; from thence he would set forth on foot for home; it was cold, bitterly cold; he could go no further--he was dying, dying--then he would wake up shivering, and with a heavy weight on his heart. "You are so weak, my brother," said the confessor. "It is bodily weakness that makes you imagine all these things. Your wife is a good Christian; she would never wrong you in the world. Come, put all such ideas out of your head. You should try to get back your strength; you must eat more, and drink something now and then. Are you earning anything?" "A little; but I send it all to my wife, she is so terribly poor. Oh! I eat plenty, and I don't like to take anything to drink; it gives me nausea." "Well, take heart. I will talk to Burrai; he shall not bother you any more." He did, in fact, have an interview with the _King of Spades_, and took him severely to task for putting such wicked ideas into Ledda's head. "The poor fellow is far from strong as it is," said he. "If you don't let him alone, he will be ill." Burrai regarded the priest calmly out of his shrewd little pig-eyes, then he gave a puff and shook his head. "I only do it for his own good," he said confidently. "But what good, what possible good? You----" "I tell you, my dear fellow--I beg your pardon--but here it is, for the present--as long as the cold weather lasts--there is very little to be feared, so far as the young woman is concerned; that is, I fancy that now it is only the old one, Costantino's mother-in-law, who is at work, advising and tormenting her daughter not to let her chance slip by. But when the spring comes--then you'll see; that's all." The chaplain's face fell; he was disturbed and puzzled. The other, watching him out of his sharp, little eyes, concluded that the present would be a good time to explain himself more fully, and accordingly began to enlarge upon the mother-in-law's grasping disposition, the youth of her daughter, the dangers of the spring season, and so forth. The chaplain now became really angry.