hivered and moaned--Cercamorte
resembled one who prepares himself for a wedding, or gallant
rendezvous, that may take place any moment.

Sometimes, reeking with civet-oil, he crept to her door, eavesdropped,
pondered the quality of her sighs, stood hesitant, then stealthily
withdrew, grinding his teeth and wheezing:

"Not yet. Sweet saints in heaven, what a time it takes!"

He loathed his bed, because of the long hours of sleeplessness. He
no longer slept naked. At night, too, his body was encased in the
vest of whitish soft skin.

* * * * *

One morning a horseman in green and yellow scallops appeared before
the castle. It was Count Nicolotto Muti, elder brother of the
troubadour Raffaele.

Lapo, having arranged his features, came down to meet the count.
They kissed, and entered the keep with their arms round each other's
shoulders. Foresto brought in the guest-cup.

Nicolotto Muti was a thin, calm politician, elegant in his manners
and speech, his lips always wearing a sympathetic smile. By the
fireplace, after chatting of this and that, he remarked, with his
hand affectionately on Cercamorte's knee:

"I am trying to find trace of my little Raffaele, who has vanished
like a mist. It is said that he was last seen in this neighbourhood.
Can you tell me anything?"

Lapo, his face expressionless, took thought, then carefully answered:

"Muti, because we are friends as well as allies I will answer you
honestly. Returning from my visit with you, I found him in this hall,
plucking a harp and singing love-songs to my wife. I say frankly
that if he had not been your brother I should have cut off his hands
and his tongue. Instead, I escorted him to the forest, and set him
on the home road. I admit that before I parted from him I preached
him a sermon on the duties of boys toward the friends of their
families. Nay, fearing that he might not relate his adventure to you,
in that discourse I somewhat pounded the pulpit. Well, yes, I
confess that I gave him a little spanking."

Count Nicolotto, without showing any surprise, or losing his fixed
smile, declared:

"Dear comrade, it was a young man, not a child, whom you chastised
in that way. In another instance, as of course you know, such an
action would have been a grievous insult to all his relatives.
Besides, I am sure that he meant no more than homage to your lady--a
compliment common enough in these modern times, and honourably
ref