“For instance, Father Herreros, at the convent in Trastevere.”
“And Father Miró too,” added Preciozi, “and if you could talk to Father Ferrer, of the Gregorian University, it wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
“That will be more difficult,” said Cittadella.
“You could tell them,” Preciozi suggested, “that your uncle the Cardinal sent you, and hint that he doesn’t want anybody to know that he is backing you.” “And if somebody should write to my uncle?”
“You mustn’t say anything definite. You must speak ambiguously. Besides, in case they did write, we would fix it up in the office.”
Cæsar began to laugh naïvely. Afterwards, the two abbés, a little excited by the food and the good wine, started in to have a violent discussion, speaking Italian. Cæsar paid the bill, and pretending that he had an urgent engagement, took leave of them and went out.
A SPANISH MONK
The next day Cæsar went to look up Father Herreros. He had not yet succeeded in forming a plan. His only idea was to see if he could take advantage of some chance: to follow a scent and be on the alert, in case something new should start up on one side or the other.
Father Herreros lived in a convent in Trastevere. Cæsar took the tram in the Piazza Venezia, and got out after crossing the Tiber, near the Via delle Fratte.
He soon found the convent; it had a yellow portal with a Latin inscription which sang the gymnastic glories of Saint Pascual Bailón. Above the inscription there was a picture, in which a monk, no doubt Bailón, was dancing among the clouds.