“He is an admirable man,” said the major; “and he sent them to you?”

“Here they are.”

The major clasped his hands in token of admiration.

“You married Oliva Corsinari in the church of San Paolo del Monte-Cattini; here is the priest’s certificate.”

“Yes indeed, there it is truly,” said the Italian, looking on with astonishment.

“And here is Andrea Cavalcanti’s baptismal register, given by the curé of Saravezza.”

“All quite correct.”

“Take these documents, then; they do not concern me. You will give them to your son, who will, of course, take great care of them.”

“I should think so, indeed! If he were to lose them⁠—”