"Since your Reverence presses me," replied the _vetturino_, "I must confess that I have found him to be just such another scamp as Peppe the goatherd, if not worse, and, in spite of all his mock piety, I have found him to be as cunning a knave as I know for miles round. Grasping as an eagle, wily as a serpent, and withal as poor spirited as a hare, seeking to cover his knavery with the cloak of religion; imagining that no one can see through his hypocrisy." "You surprise me," exclaimed the arch-priest; "but what proof have you of his knavery?" "Well, in the first place," replied the _vetturino_, "he is in debt with almost every man in the village, myself among the number, and not in one instance has he been known to repay what he has borrowed. I have pressed him over and over again, but he always sneaks out of it by some lame excuse, even when I know he has been able to pay me. He wanted to marry my sister once, because he thought there was a little money to be had, but when he spoke to my mother about her dowry, and received for reply that she did not intend to give her daughter to one who sought her for her dowry, and that he who would marry her must support her himself, he very soon slunk off. Not that I'd have given my consent to such a scarecrow marrying my sister, even if he _had_ been less grasping. Then, would you believe it, your Reverence, he actually had the impudence to insult my sister when he encountered her alone, as he thought, in the campagna. He little knew that I was only a short distance behind. I came upon him unawares in time to overhear part of his impertinent conversation, and I gave him such a thrashing as will make him remember Luigi the _vetturino_ as long as he lives. "Then, there is no doubt that it was he who picked the pocket of poor old Matteo when he happened to be drunk; everybody believes that, besides several other dirty tricks that I will not weary your patience by relating, though I could if I would. As for cheating at cards, he is quite an adept, and yet, with all this, he walks with his eyes hypocritically fixed on the ground, counting his beads and crossing himself, as if he were a very saint. But he doesn't take _me_ in, your Reverence, however he may impose on our simple peasantry, for when a man is a _vetturino_, he sees other towns besides his own, and gets to know people of all sorts. I have been in Rome, and have picked up a thing or two." "Well, enough for the present, Luigi," said the arch-priest. "I will enquire into this matter; meanwhile I intend to take a stroll with this gentleman. Till we meet again," and he waved his hand to the _vetturino_. "A rivederla, Signor Arciprete," responded Luigi, raising his hat respectfully.