The old Duke having invited Odo to return to Monte Alloro with such
treasures as he had collected for the ducal galleries, the young man
resolved to visit Rome on his way to the North. His acquaintance with de
Crucis had grown into something like friendship since their joint effort
in behalf of the imprisoned sage, and the abate preparing to set out
about the same time, the two agreed to travel together. The road leading
from Naples to Rome was at that time one of the worst in Italy, and was
besides so ill-provided with inns that there was no inducement to linger
on the way. De Crucis, however, succeeded in enlivening even this
tedious journey. He was a good linguist and a sound classical scholar,
besides having, as he had told Odo, a pronounced taste for antiquarian
research. In addition to this, he performed agreeably on the violin, and
was well-acquainted with the history of music. His chief distinction,
however, lay in the ease with which he wore his accomplishments, and in
a breadth of view that made it possible to discuss with him many
subjects distasteful to most men of his cloth. The sceptical or
licentious ecclesiastic was common enough; but Odo had never before met
a priest who united serious piety with this indulgent temper, or who had
learning enough to do justice to the arguments of his opponents.

On his venturing one evening to compliment de Crucis on these qualities,
the latter replied with a smile: "Whatever has been lately advanced
against the Jesuits, it can hardly be denied that they were good
school-masters; and it is to them I owe the talents you have been
pleased to admire. Indeed," he continued, quietly fingering his violin,
"I was myself bred in the order: a fact I do not often make known in the
present heated state of public opinion, but which I never conceal when
commended for any quality that I owe to the Society rather than to my
own merit."