re now at the summit of an
eminence whence they saw that town lying before them, and the village of
Montalto hardly discernible in the distance behind. The father looked back
for a moment at his companion, in some curiosity to see how he would take
leave, probably forever, of the place of his birth. The hog-boy's hands
were clenched as if the nails were imbedded in his flesh; and one arm,
trembling with agitation, was stretched forth in a fierce farewell. When
he turned away, the blazing eyes again flashed upon the Franciscan's face;
but, in an instant, they softened, grew mild and tearful, and Felix--for
that was the lad's name--followed his patron meekly into the town.
Their destination was a monastery of Cordeliers, where the ex-hog-boy was
introduced to the superior, and pleased him so much by his sensible
answers and modest demeanor, that he at once received the habit of a
lay-brother, and was set to assist the sacristan in sweeping the church
and lighting the candles. But at leisure hours he was still busier with
the dust of the schools, and the lamp of theology. The brethren taught him
the responses and grammar; but he never ceased to teach himself every
thing he could get at; so that in the year 1534, when he was only
fourteen, he was permitted to enter on his novitiate, and after the usual
probation, to make his profession. He was, in short, a monk; and in ten
years he had taken deacon's orders, been ordained a priest, and graduated
as bachelor and doctor. Felix the hog-boy was now known as Father
Montalto.
II. The Assistant.
The world was now before the Ancona hog-boy. In his boyhood he had
suffered stripes and starvation, herded unclean animals, and almost broken
his heart with impotent, and, therefore, secret rage. In his youth he had
been the patient drudge of a convent, and passed his leisure hours in
persevering study, and the accumulation of book-knowledge. But now he was
a man, ready for his destiny, and in the midst of troublous times, when a
bold, fierce, and fearless character is sure to make its way. No more
secret sobs--no more cringing servility--no more studious solitude. Montalto
threw himself into the vortex of the world, and struck out boldly, right
and left. An impetuous and impatient temper, and haughty and dictatorial
manner, were now his prominent characteristics; and these, united as they
were with natural talent and solid acquirements, soon pointed him out for
congenial employment.
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