It was written just before
Giovanni died. The matter cannot possibly be proved without further
testimony. Where is Vincenza?"'

"Alas, Father, I do not know. Dead, I think, or she would have come back
to me before now. I have not heard of her since she took a situation as
maid to a lady in Turin four years ago."

"Why have you told me so useless a story at all, then?" said the father,
again with some sternness of voice and manner. "Evidently Vincenza was
fond of romancing; and, probably--probably----" He did not finish his
sentence; but he was thinking--"Probably the mad fancy of that English
lady about her child--which I well remember--suggested the story to
Vincenza as a means of getting money. I wish I had her here."

"I have told you the story, Reverend Father," said the old woman, whose
voice was growing very weak, "because I know that I am dying, and that
the boy will be left alone in the world, which is a sad fate for any
boy, Father, whether he is Vincenza's child or the son of the English
lady. He is a good lad, Reverend Father, strong, and obedient, and
patient; if the good Fathers would but take charge of him, and see that
he is taught a trade, or put to some useful work! He would be no burden
to you, my poor, little Dino!"

For a moment the Benedictine's eyes flashed with a quick fire; then he
looked down and stood perfectly still, with his hands folded and his
head bent. A new idea had darted across his mind. Did the story that he
had just heard offer him no opportunity of advancing the interests of
his Order and of his Church?

He turned as if to ask another question, but he was too late. Old
Assunta was fast falling into the stupor that is but the precursor of
death. He called her attendant, and waited for a time to see whether
consciousness was likely to return. But he waited in vain. Assunta said
nothing more.

The boy of whom she had spoken came and wept at her bed-side, and Padre
Cristoforo observed him curiously. He was well worthy of the monk's
gaze. He was light and supple in figure, perfectly formed, with a clear
brown skin and a face such as one sees in early Italian paintings of
angelic singing-boys--a face with broad, serious brows, soft, oval
cheeks, curved lips, and delightfully dimpled chin. He had large, brown
eyes and a mass of tangled, curling hair. The priest noted that his
slender limbs were graceful as those of a young fawn, that his hands and
feet were small and well shaped, an