revolt in any way with Naja, although I was told that, during my absence, a peasant girl had come a number of times to inquire about me.
“Wasn’t it Naja?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but I tell you she was a beauty. You probably know well enough who she was, young man,” declared my old landlady with a sly laugh.
“Shut up!” I replied. I wanted to shake off her inquisitiveness.
“Why did you not tell her where I was?”
“Why should I? You were too far away. And then I thought perhaps it would make you angry. God knows how peasant girls carry on these days.”
“Don’t talk such nonsense!” I interrupted. I hastened out to buy Naja a silk handkerchief and some fine knitting yarn. I was impatient to see her again. During the ride to the village I thought a good deal more about her than about putting down the revolt.
I found out, however, that reports of the revolt had not been exaggerated. I came, indeed, just in time to rescue the pope and the village elders. The guard-house had already been set
