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Sabatini, Rafael, 1875-1950

"The Strolling Saint; being the confessions of the high and mighty Agostino D'Anguissola, tyrant of Mondolfo and Lord of Carmina in the state of Piacenza"

Then the thunder receded and
gradually died away in the distance; the rain ceased; and the dawn crept
pale as a moon-stone adown the valley.
We went out to breathe the freshened air just as the first touches of the
sun quickened to an opal splendour the pallor of that daybreak. All the
earth was steaming, and the Bagnanza, suddenly swollen, went thundering
down the gorge.
At sunrise we dug a grave just below the platform with a spade which I
found in the hut. There we buried the hermit, and over the spot I made a
great cross with the largest stones that I could find. The priest would
have given him burial in the hut itself; but I suggested that perhaps there
might be some other who would be willing to take the hermit's place, and
consecrate his life to carrying on the man's pious work of guarding that
shrine and collecting alms for the poor and for the building of the bridge.
My tone caused the priest to look at me with sharp, kindly eyes.
"Have you such thoughts for yourself, perchance?" he asked me.
"Unless you should adjudge me too unworthy for the office," I answered
humbly.
"But you are very young, my son," he said, and laid a kindly hand upon my
shoulder. "Have you suffered, then, so sorely at the hands of the world
that you should wish to renounce it and to take up this lonely life?"
"I was intended for the priesthood, father," I replied.


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