The Strolling Saint

is burnt as with an acid upon my memory, a picture which the mere mention of her name, the mere thought of her, never fails to evoke like a ghost b

for my father. His death had made as little change in her apparel as in her general life. It had been ever thus as far as my memory can travel; always had her raiment been the same, those trailing funereal draperies. Again I see them, and that pallid face with its sunken eyes, around which t

ed she seemed to leave a trail of sorrow and sadness in h

first time that I knew rebellion against the yoke she was imposing upon me; the first time that our wills clashed, hers a

ee months after the comin

and. His intimate connection with that dimly remembered father, who stood secretly in my imagination in the p

a dog that looks for a kindly word. He had not long to wait. Daily we had our meetings and our talks and daily did these grow

omething of the greatness of that noble-souled, valiant gentleman, whom the old servant

scalades, of surprises, of breaches stormed, of camisades and ambushes, of dark treacheries and great heroisms did he descant to fire my youthful fancy, to fill me first with delight, and then with fren

pitting of force against force and astuteness again

craft of swordsmanship was to be acquired, so that from fighting with his irons as a beast with its claws, by sheer brute strength

mself, and what he told me he illustrated, flinging himself into the poises t

e difference between the mandritto and the roverso, the false edge and the true, the stramazone and the tondo; and he left me spellbound by that marvellous guard appropriately

ad ventured into the city of Bologna notwithstanding that it was a Papal fief, for the sole purpose of studying with Marozzo that Falcone himself had dai

orthiness, ventures to crave a boon which he knows himself without the right to exp

enter into the mysteries of sword-craft. But my fears were far indeed from having a foundation. There was no laughter in the equ

rd and buckler, and with every lesson my proficiency with the iron grew in a manner that Falcone terme

ven be that what he said was no more than the good-natured flattery of one who loved me and would have me take plea

sed about a sword-hilt, the forefinger passed over the quillons in the new manner, as Falcone showed me. But it defies all power of words. The sweet seduction of its balance, the white gleaming beauty of the blad

of arms, and of wrestling by which boys of my years attain development. I stood almost as tall then as Falcone himself-who was accounted of a good height-and if my reach fell something s

r of the siesta was spent by me with old Falcone. But the good, saintly man held his peace, a matter which at that time intrigued me. Others there were, however, who thought w

ldren caught in a forbidden orchard, for all that Falcone held himsel

twice I shot her a furtive comprehensive glance, a

see me so vigorous and lusty, as surely could not have been fetched there by the sight of my corpse itself. Her lips moved awhile in silence; and whether she was

and waited as if for

oice, something of the injustice that oppressed me, something of the unreasoning bigotry that chained and fettered me, stood clear before my mental vision for the first time. It warmed me again

ude, I drew myself erect, flung back my head, and brought my eyes to th

e followed no catastrophe such as I expected. Before my glance, grown suddenly so very bold, her own eyes drooped and fell away as was her habit. She spoke thereafter without lookin

with weapons, Agos

nswered, and out of the corner of my eye I caught

rowful head. "Men practise what they must one day perform, Agostino. To your books, then, and leave

spared the sight to-day," I answered with some ling

to such vanities before they take too strong a hol

But against that incarnation of sorrow and sadness, my purpose, my strength of character were turned to water. By similar means had she eve

with it. As I turned aside to do so, her gloomy eyes were poised for an instant upon Fal

have abused my trust in you, and you have sought t

e too; but it was obedience to men; with women he had never had much to do, old warrior though he was. Moreover, in this he felt that an affront ha

ead, "are the ways that were trod by my lord his father. And who says that the ways of Giovanni d'Anguissola were evil ways l

Then answered without looking up, an

chal shall have orders to pay you ten gold ducats in discharge of all that

nflection, or even making a noticeable

Falcone a sound that was between a growl and a sob. I dared not look at him

at he had taken in my father's service, to be turned away in his old age, as we should not have turned away a dog! It was a monstrous thing. Mondolf

brief throb of time, as I waited, marvelling what

of that, without knowing what else there was that must make it

at last he moved, the thing he did was the last thing that I had looked for. Not

to say. For never yet had I been so addressed in my lordship of Mondolfo. To all there I was

then. "Is it your wi

by my surprise; and then my mo

cerned in this, Mester Falcone.

ffected not to hear her, and con

in Mondolfo. You carry life and death in your right hand, and a

had stood like a mountain before me all

dded; and then, almost in a snarl of defiance, "I o

for you," came my mother

Mentor who showed me the road to freedom and to manhood; he showed me how at a blow I might shiver the chains that held me, and shake them from me like the cobwebs that they were. He tested me, t

g back my head and told my mother-as he prompted me-that I was lo

to inspire in me. Had I succeeded I had established my dominion, I had become arbiter of my

a parting of ways; yet for lack of courage I hesitated

, and by her tone, which had grown faltering and tearful-as was her wont in the old days when she ruled my

ll is as your mother's. Tell him

I realized it. And yet to-day when I look back I see how vast a strength I should have needed

e," I faltered, and ther

and grief and impotence-and I moved down the lo

l, lifelong servant, turned thus cruelly upon the world by a woman whom bigotry had s

on. I had failed him. He must suffer more in the knowledge of my unworthiness to be called

hed th

ingly. On the very threshold I stood arrested

e... "

r's white hand fe

she said, once

and as I passed out I he

courtyard lay ten golden ducats which he had scattered there, and which not one of the greedy grooms or serving-m