"Poor lad!" she murmured, as I staggered and fell into a chair, unable
longer to retain my feet. She rose immediately, and came hurrying towards
me with a basin of goat's milk. The draught refreshed my body as her
gentle words of comfort soothed my troubled soul. Seated there, her stout
arm about my shoulders, my head pillowed upon her ample, motherly breast, I
was very near to tears, loosened in my overwrought state by the sweet touch
of sympathy, for which may God reward her.
I rested in that place awhile. Three hours I slept upon a litter of straw
in an outhouse; whereupon, strengthened by my repose, I renewed my claim to
be the Lord of Mondolfo and my demand for a horse to carry me to my
fortress.
Still doubting me too much to trust me alone with any beast of his, the
peasant nevertheless fetched out a couple of mules and set out with me for
Mondolfo.
BOOK III
THE WILDERNESS
CHAPTER I
THE HOME-COMING
It was still early morning when we came into the town of Mondolfo, my
peasant escort and I.
The day being Sunday there was little stir in the town at such an hour, and
it presented a very different appearance from that which it had worn when
last I had seen it. But the difference lay not only in the absence of
bustle and the few folk abroad now as compared with that market-day on
which, departing, I had ridden through it.
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