his neck?

I got down slowly and painfully, for my limbs were stiff and my feet
very sore. He smiled darkly at my words and my sudden faltering; but I
affected not to see.

"Where is Madonna?" I asked.

"She will have returned by now from chapel," he answered.

I turned to the man-at-arms. "You will announce me," I bade him. "And
you, Rinolfo, see to these beasts and to this good fellow here. Let him
have wine and food and what he needs. I will see him again ere he sets
forth."

Rinolfo muttered that all should be done as I ordered, and I signed to
the man-at-arms to lead the way.

We went up the steps and into the cool of the great hall. There the
soldier, whose every feeling had been outraged no doubt by Rinolfo's
attitude towards his lord, ventured to express his sympathy and
indignation.

"Rinolfo is a black beast, Madonnino," he muttered.

"We are all black beasts, Eugenio," I answered heavily, and so startled
him by words and tone that he ventured upon no further speech, but led
me straight to my mother's private dining-room, opened the door and
calmly announced me.

"Madonna, here is my Lord Agostino."

I heard the gasp she uttered before I caught sight of her. She was
seated at the table's head in her great wooden chair, and Fra Gervasio
was pacing the rush-strewn floor in talk with her, his hands behind his
back, his head thrust forward.

At the announcement he straightened suddenly and wheeled round to face
me, inquiry in his glance. My mother, too, half rose, and remained
so, staring at me, her amazement at seeing me increased by the strange
appearance I presented.

Eugenio closed the door and departed, leaving me standing there, just
within it; and for a moment no word was spoken.

The cheerless, familiar room, looking more cheerless than it had done
of old, with its high-set windows and ghastly Crucifix, affected me in
a singular manner. In this room I had known a sort of peace--the peace
that is peculiarly childhood's own, whatever the troubles that may haunt
it. I came into it now with hell in my soul, sin-blackened before God
and man, a fugitive in quest of sanctuary.

A knot rose in my throat and paralysed awhile my speech. Then with a
sudden sob, I sprang forward and hobbled to her upon my wounded feet. I
flung myself down upon my knees, buried my head in her lap, and all that
I could cry was:

"Mother! Mother!"

Whether perceiving my disorder, my distraught and suffering conditi