'And how about Messer Gerolamo? Would he consent?'
'He will consent if I cry for it. And if he doesn't consent, then I will run away. Say you will take me with you! Say it!'
'No, Francesco; it is idle talk. I know thou would'st not leave thy father. He grows old, and thou must have a fondness for him.'
'Of a surety I have a fondness for him. But for you, too, Messer Leonardo! You think me very little, but truly I comprehend everything. Aunt Bona says you are a sorcerer, and Don Lorenzo, my schoolmaster, says it likewise, and that you are wicked, and that with you I shall lose my soul. But when he speaks ill of you, I answer him in such wise that he comes near beating me.'
Suddenly Francesco's eyes filled and the corners of his lips drooped.
'I understand,' he said; 'I understand why you don't want me. You don't love me. And I——.' He burst into tears.
'Hush! hush! Thou should'st cry shame to weep! Hearken to what I tell thee. In a few years, when thou art grown, then I will take thee for my disciple, and keep thee always at my side.'
The child raised his eyes, tears still trembling on their long lashes.
'But do you mean it? or is it said to comfort me, and afterwards will you forget?'
'No, Francesco, I promise.'