Little more than two years after Brian's marriage, Mrs. Luttrell died. She died with her hand fast clasped in that of the man who had been indeed a son to her, she died with his name upon her lips. And when she was laid to rest beside her husband and her eldest son, Brian and Elizabeth were free to carry out a project which had been for some time very near their hearts. They went together to San Stefano.
It was then that Elizabeth first heard the whole story of her husband's sojourn at the monastery. She had never known more than the bare facts before; and she listened with a new comprehension of his character, as he told her of the days of listless anguish spent after his illness at San Stefano, and of the hopelessness from which her own words and looks aroused him. He spoke much, also, of Dino and of Padre Cristoforo and the kindly monks: and in the sunny stillness of an early Italian morning they went to the churchyard to look for Dino's grave.
They would not have found it but for the help of a monk who chanced to be in the neighbourhood. He led them courteously to the spot. It was unmarked by any stone, but a wreath of flowers had been laid upon it that morning, and the grassy mound showed signs of constant care. Brian and Elizabeth stood silently beside it; they did not move until the monk addressed them. And then Brian saw that Father Cristoforo was standing at their side.
"He sleeps well," he said. "You need not mourn for him."
"Yes, he sleeps," answered Brian, a little bitterly. "But we have lost him."
"Do I not know that as well as you? Do I not grieve for him?" said the old man, with a deep sigh. "I have more reason to grieve than you. I have never yet told you how he died. Come with me and I will let you hear."
They followed him to the guest-room of the monastery, and there, whilst they waited for him to speak, he threw back his cowl and fixed his eyes on Elizabeth's fair face.
"It was for your sake," he said, "for your sake, in part, that Dino left his duty to the Church undone. It was your face, signora, that came, as he told me, between him and his prayers. I am glad that I have seen you before I die."
He spoke mournfully, yet meditatively—more as if he was talking to himself than to her. Elizabeth shrank back a little, and Brian uttered a quick exclamation.