l see."

The carriages moved at a foot pace. As Veronica walked along she nodded
and spoke to many of the poor people, who drew back into their doors
from the narrow way. Behind her came two more carriages laden with
luggage, and one of her own men on horseback closed the procession. By
urging his stout beast up all the short cuts, he had accomplished the
feat of keeping up with the vehicles.

When they reached the castle gate, the Della Spina's two men-servants
jumped down and got a sort of sedan chair from amongst the luggage, but
Gianluca would not have it.

"I can walk to-day," he said. "Help me, Taquisara. Have you got my
stick? Thank you. No, do not lift me. Let me get out alone! I am sure
that I can do it."

Pale as he was, he blushed with annoyance at his feeble state, when he
saw Veronica's anxious eyes watching his movements.

It was early yet, but the August sun sank behind the lofty heights to
westward, as he set his foot upon the ground. Taquisara's arm was around
him, and the Sicilian's face was quiet and unconcerned, but Veronica saw
the straining of the brown hand that supported the tall invalid, and she
knew that Gianluca could not have stood alone. But he would not let the
servants come near him. The old Duca and his wife touched his sleeve and
asked him nervous, futile questions, and begged him to allow himself to
be carried. Veronica stood in front, ready to lead the way.

"No, no!" exclaimed Gianluca, answering his mother. "You see. I can walk
very well to-day, with scarcely any help."

But his first step was unsteady, and the next was slow. Veronica heard
the uncertain footfall on the flagstones and turned again.

"Will you take my arm on this side?" she asked gently, placing herself
on his right, away from Taquisara.

He hesitated, smiled, and then laid his hand upon her arm, and she and
Taquisara led him in together, the old couple following, and looking at
each other in silence from time to time. Through the dark, inclined way,
they all went up slowly into the courtyard and under the low door, dark
even on that summer's afternoon, slowly, stopping at every dozen paces
and then moving on again. Taquisara almost carrying his friend with his
right arm, while Veronica steadied him on the other side, till they came
out at last into a room which had been furnished as a sort of
sitting-room and library, especially for Gianluca's use. He sank down
into a deep chair facing the window, and drew