He had entered the order of St. Francis; but after some years at the
Convent of Aguilona, his health having been indifferent and the conventual
rules too rigorous for his condition, he was given licence to become the
chaplain of Mondolfo. Here he had received the kindliest treatment at the
hands of my father, who entertained for his sometime playmate a very real
affection.
He was a tall, gaunt man with a sweet, kindly face, reflecting his sweet,
kindly nature; he had deep-set, dark eyes, very gentle in their gaze, a
tender mouth that was a little drawn by lines of suffering and an upright
wrinkle, deep as a gash, between his brows at the root of his long, slender
nose.
He it was that night who broke the silence that endured even after the
others had departed. He spoke at first as if communing with himself, like
a man who thinks aloud; and between his thumb and his long forefinger, I
remember that he kneaded a crumb of bread upon which his eyes were intent.
"Gino Falcone is an old man, and he was my lord's best-loved servant. He
would have died for my lord, and joyfully; and now he is turned adrift, to
die to no purpose. Ah, well." He heaved a deep sigh and fell silent,
whilst I--the pent-up anguish in me suddenly released to hear my thoughts
thus expressed--fell soundlessly to weeping.
Pages:
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57