ifold perplexities of life; but he would not rise
until the Prior--the only father and protector that he had ever
known--bade him rise. And so he lay, while the noon-day sunlight waxed
and waned, and the drowsy afternoon declined to dewy eve, and the purple
twilight faded into night. If the hours seemed long or short, he could
not tell. A sort of stupor came over him. He knew not what was going on
around him; dimly he heard feet and voices, and the sound of bells and
music, but which of the sounds came to him in dreams, and which were
realities, he could not tell. It was certainly a dream that Brian and
Elizabeth stood beside him hand-in-hand, and told him to take courage.
That, as he knew afterwards, was quite too impossible to be true. But it
was a dream that brought him peace.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

BY LAND AND SEA.

At night the Prior sent for him. Dino's hearing was dulled by fatigue
and fasting: he did not understand at first what was said. But,
by-and-bye, he knew that he was ordered to go into the guest-room, where
the Prior awaited his coming. The command gave Dino an additional pang:
the guest-room was for strangers, not for one who had been as a child of
the house. But he lifted himself up feebly from the cold stones, and
followed the lay-brother, who had brought the message, to the appointed
place.

The Prior was an austere man, but not devoid of compassion, nor even of
sympathy. He received Dino with no relaxation of his rather grim
features, but told him to eat and drink before speaking. "I will not
talk to you fasting," he said; and Dino felt conscious of some touch of
compassion in the old man's eyes as he looked at him.

Dino sat, therefore, and tried to eat and drink, but the effort was
almost in vain. When he had swallowed a few mouthfuls of bread and water
mixed with a little wine, which was all that he could touch, he stood up
in token that he was ready for the Prior's questions; and Father
Cristoforo, who had meanwhile been walking up and down the room with a
restless air, at once stopped short and began to speak.

Let it be remembered that Dino felt towards this rugged-faced,
stern-voiced priest as loving as a son feels towards a wise father. His
affections were strong; and he had few objects on which to expend them.
The Prior's anger meant to him not merely the displeasure of one in
authority, but the loss of a love which had shielded and enveloped him
ever since he came to the monastery