“I will do so, but could you oblige me by telling me the reason for such a high-handed action?” “Come again this evening; I shall probably be able to satisfy you.” I called on the abbe again in the evening, for I felt anxious to learn in what way I had offended the lord borgello, to whom I thought I was quite unknown. The abbe satisfied me. “The borgello,” said he, “saw your name on the bill which he receives daily containing a list of the names of those who enter or leave the city. He remembered that you were daring enough to escape from The Leads, and as he does not at all approve of that sort of thing he resolved not to let the Modenese be contaminated by so egregious an example of the defiance of justice, however unjust it may be; and in short he has given you the order to leave the town.” “I am much obliged, but I really wonder how it is that while you were telling me this you did not blush to be a subject of the Duke of Modena’s. What an unworthy action! How contrary is such a system of government to all the best interests of the state!” “You are quite right, my dear sir, but I am afraid that as yet men’s eyes are not open to what best serves their interests.” “That is doubtless due to the fact that so many men are unworthy.” “I will not contradict you.” “Farewell, abbe.” “Farewell, M. Casanova.” Next morning, just as I was going to get into my carriage, a young man between twenty-five and thirty, tall and strong and broad shouldered, his eyes black and glittering, his eyebrows strongly arched, and his general air being that of a cut-throat, accosted me and begged me to step aside and hear what he had to say. “If you like to stop at Parma for three days, and if you will promise to give me fifty sequins when I bring you the news that the borgello is dead, I promise to shoot him within the next twenty-four hours.” “Thanks. Such an animal as that should be allowed to die a natural death. Here’s a crown to drink my health.” At the present time I feel very thankful that I acted as I did, but I confess that if I had felt sure that it was not a trap I should have promised the money. The fear of committing myself spared me this crime. The next day I got to Parma, and I put up at the posting-house under the name of the Chevalier de Seingalt, which I still bear. When an honest man adopts a name which belongs to no one, no one has a right to contest his use of it; it becomes a man’s duty to keep the name. I had now borne it for two years, but I often subjoined to it my family name. When I got to Parma I dismissed Costa, but in a week after I had the misfortune to take him on again. His father, who was a poor violin player, as I had once been, with a large family to provide for, excited my pity.