'I never could have thought that you could fail,' said Gerald slowly, as
in calm composure he gazed on the massive features before him.

'I have done with failure now,' said the other; 'I mean to achieve
success next. It is something to have learned a great truth, and this is
one, boy--our world is a huge hunting-ground, and it is better to play
wolf than lamb. Don't turn your eyes to those walls, as if the fellows
depicted there could gainsay me--they were but sorry scoundrels, the bad
ones; the best were but weakly good.'

'You do but pain me when you speak thus,' said Gerald; 'you make me
think that you are one who, having done some great crime, waits to
avenge the penalty he has suffered on the world that inflicted it.'

'What if you were partly right, boy! Not but I would protest against the
word crime, or even fault, as applied to me; still you are near enough
to make your guess a good one. I have a debt to pay, and I mean to pay
it.'

'I wish I had never quitted the college.' said the boy, and the tears
rolled heavily down his cheeks.

'It is not too late to retrace your steps. The cell and the scourge--the
fathers know the use of both--will soon condone your offence; and when
they have sapped the last drop of manhood out of your nature, you will
be all the fitter for your calling.'

With these harsh words, uttered in tones as cruel, the stranger left the
room; while Gerald, covering his face with both hands, sobbed as though
his heart were breaking.

'Ah! Gabriel has been talking to him. I knew how it would be,' muttered
old Pippo, as he cast a glance within the room. 'Poor child! better for
him had he left him to die in the Maremma.'

CHAPTER IX. THE 'COUR' OF THE ALTIERI

A LONG autumn day was drawing to its close in Rome, and gradually here
and there might be seen a few figures stealing listlessly along, or
seated in melancholy mood before the shop-doors, trying to catch a
momentary breath of air ere the hour of sunset should fall. All the
great and noble of the capital had left a month before for the sea-side,
or for Albano, or the shady valleys above Lucca. You might walk for days
and never meet a carriage. It was a city in complete desolation. The
grass sprang up between the stones, and troops of seared leaves, carried
from the gardens, littered the empty streets. The palaces were barred
up and fastened, the massive doors looking as if they had not opened for
centuries. In one alone, throu