"You see now," said I to my friend, as we strolled together from the narrow streets into one of the main roads, "that there is some evidence to support my view of the case. I never did think much of your sacristan; his face was enough for me, but after the evidence you have just heard, methinks you would do well to rid yourself of such an ornament to your church." "It is odd," replied my friend, "that I never suspected him of being that sort of character. On the contrary, I thought him a most exemplary young man. It is not long ago since he informed me of his ardent desire to enter holy orders." "A fine priest he'd make!" said I, laughing. "The church has no need of him, for there are too many of his sort among your priesthood already. Not that he wouldn't be popular," I added, soothingly. "On the contrary, he would be able to manufacture miracles by the cart-load, I warrant, in order to satisfy his flock's thirst for the marvellous. He would probably die in the odour of sanctity and be canonised after his death." "My friend, my friend," said the arch-priest, gravely, "our church is not, as you think, rash in canonising a man a saint. Our lawsuits are extremely rigid, and long--so much so, that many a holy man has been rejected as a saint on account of the insufficient evidence of his miracles." Then he proceeded to enlarge upon the miracles of the saints of old and all the legendary lore of his religion, and thus he entertained me until we found ourselves once more at the door of his house. "Signor Arciprete," said the aforementioned servant girl, whom we discovered on the threshold, conversing with an elderly peasant, "here is a man who wishes to speak to you in private. He says he has something to communicate." "Show him into my study," said the arch-priest. "I suppose you do not mind my friend being present?" said he, addressing the man and glancing at me. "No, Reverenza," said the peasant, shutting the door of the priest's study behind him, "it was only to bring you some information concerning the brigands." "Ha!" exclaimed the arch-priest, pricking up his ears. "Proceed." "Well, your Reverence," began the peasant, "hearing that a reward had been offered to anyone able to give such information as should lead to the discovery of the brigands, I thought I would make known what happened to me on the very night of the robbery, which I hope may prove of some use to the brigand-catchers.