"So you see there is no way of catching a priest napping. He will always find some hole to creep out of. Like an eel, he will slip through your fingers at the very moment that you may think you have got him. Should any individual be bold enough to force his way through the wonder-gazing crowd, and publicly demolish the miracle-working image or picture and reveal to the devout bystanders the paltry mechanism by which they have been deluded, people's eyes would at length be opened, all miracles be liable to suspicion, and reason at length admitted into some share of man's being. "But there are difficulties that beset so bold an expedient. In the first place, a man must be possessed of more than an ordinary amount of courage to face the fury of a fanatical mob whom he knows to be ready to tear him in pieces should he attempt to rob them of their darling prejudices, or dare to break one chip off their sacred wood or stone. "Secondly, the wonder-working image or picture is generally in an inaccessible place, high up on the wall or surrounded by railings, to prevent a too close scrutiny. Thirdly, the miracle often exists merely in the imaginations of devout believers, without any aid of mechanism on the part of the priest. In this case, if any man were daring enough to step forward and openly to break in pieces the supposed miraculous image or picture, and, having done so, was unable to detect in the fragments any trace of machinery or means of imposture whatever, the fame of the miracle would then gain ground, and the daring unbeliever be guilty of sacrilege." When I had got thus far, my friend the arch-priest drew himself up and was about to reply in a lengthy rejoinder, when he was suddenly interrupted by the servant girl of his household bursting hurriedly into the room and crying out at the top of her voice, "Oh, Signor Arciprete, have you heard the news? The _vetturino_ of the mail has just arrived. He says that the night before last the mail was stopped on its way to Rome by a band of brigands, who robbed the passengers, consisting of six English gentlemen and others, of everything they had about them. Gold, silver, and paper money--quite a heap--besides some gold and silver watches, and, among other things, a diamond ring of great value, belonging to one of the English gentlemen. The soldiers are on the track of the brigands already, and a heavy reward is offered to whosoever shall give such information as shall lead to their discovery. "Poor Luigi! He says that he himself was robbed of his silver watch and paper money, amounting to forty pauls, all he possessed in the world. I do hope they'll catch the nasty wretches. I myself would see them executed. _Gesu Maria!_ What hungry wolves! But I must be off now to tell all the people in the village, or else that horrid gossip Maria Giovanna will be before me, and I always like to be first."