"Why will you prognosticate evil, Lucy? God knows we wrong no person."
"Well, well," said Lucy, "I will hope for the best."
Renzo would have wished to prolong the conversation, in order to allot to each their several parts for the morrow, but the night drew on, and he reluctantly felt himself compelled to depart.
The night was passed, by all three, in that state of agitation and trouble which always precedes an important enterprise whose issue is uncertain. Renzo returned early in the morning, and Agnes and he busied themselves in concerting the operations of the evening. Lucy was a mere spectator; but although she disapproved these measures in her heart, she still promised to do the best she could.
"Will you go to the convent, to speak to Father Christopher, as he desired you last night?" said Agnes to Renzo.
"Oh! no," replied he, "the father would soon read in my countenance that there was something on foot; and if he interrogated me, I should be obliged to tell him. You had better send some one."
"I will send Menico."
"Yes, that will do," replied Renzo, as he hurried off to make farther arrangements.
Agnes went to a neighbouring house to obtain Menico, a smart lad of twelve years of age, who, by the way of cousins and sisters-in-law, was a sort of nephew to the dame. She asked and obtained permission of his parents to keep him all day "for a particular service." She took him home, and after giving him breakfast, told him he must go to Pescarenico, and show himself to Father Christopher, who would send him back with a message.
"Father Christopher, you understand; that nice old man, with a white beard; him they call the Saint."
"I know him, I know him!" said Menico: "he speaks so kindly to the children, and often gives them pictures."
"Yes! that is he; and if, Menico, if he tells you to wait near the convent until he has an answer ready, don't stray away; don't go to the lake to throw stones in the water with the boys; nor to see them fish, nor"
