"After enduring considerable annoyance—even insult—from the Croatian sentinels and German lackeys—insults which he endured with contempt, perhaps, rather than with meekness, and feeling himself the servant of a higher master than even the Emperor of Austria—he was admitted to an audience, and he begged—he dared not, in such a presence, demand—'the release of the child Attilio Manfredi, who had been seized by the soldiers of the garrison.'
"'Seized, Fra Marraccini, for attempting to seduce them by money to desert their colours, in the name of the rebel Magyar, Kossuth,' replied the count, sternly.
"'Term it as you please, Signor Excellenza. I implore you to allow me to restore him to his parents—his heart-broken mother especially.'
"'It cannot be; his case is not in my hands.'
"'In whose then?'
"'It has been remitted to the general-commanding at Prato.'
"'And the answer will come——'
"'About midnight,' interrupted the count, with a dark glance there was no misinterpreting. 'Enough, priest. You may go.'
"The poor priest felt his soul sink within him. Instead of seeking our parents, to whom, knowing the Austrians as he did, he could give no hope, he returned to the castle, and sought to prepare the unhappy child, my brother, for the fate, the great change, that was to follow.
"All day had elapsed without food passing the boy's mouth, and he was in such a state as to be incapable of swallowing the coarse cake which the priest had procured with difficulty from the Croatian guard.