“‘God so do to him as he has done to one that came far to serve him,’ cried I, and would have added more, but the priest put his hand upon my arm.
“‘How,’ said he, ‘is this the time to be brawling like a beggar at a church door? I am ashamed of you! Is there not misfortune enough upon the house that you should add your complaints to it? Truly the Count is right, and it is time you went to your home again.’
“‘Father,’ I replied, ‘no man tells me twice that my company is a burden to him. To-morrow at dawn I will set out.’
“‘You do well,’ said he, ‘nor will your services be forgotten.’
“He spoke with meaning, excellency; and when I rode out of the gates at sunrise next day, a bag of guldens was jingling at my girdle. Nor could I, grieve as I might for the exceeding misfortunes which had come upon the house of the Zaloskis, deem the gift to be unearned.
“‘God will lighten the burden,’ I thought, ‘and my Lord Count will forget. A man has not lived his life at forty. He will love again, and find an object more worthy. It may be even that I shall meet someone who will think it worth his while to deal with Ugo Klun. And if the lad were sent to the frontier, who can tell what would happen? Priests are priests, and have not men’s eyes. We of the world judge more justly. It is unlikely,’ I said, ‘that those at Jézero will think any more of old Andrea now that he has left them. He must be just to himself and watch patiently. Perchance he may yet serve little Christine—and has he not a bag of guldens at his girdle?’
“The latter assurance was my abiding consolation. I cracked my fingers for joy, and my heart beat light at the glory of the morning. The sweet scent of the blossoms, the odours of the pines, the invigorating air of the mountains, the spreading sunshine, sent me singing on my way. I turned round in my saddle and saw the château set as a toy-castle—for so it seemed to be in the distance—in the hollow of the pass below me.
“‘Addio, addio,’ cried I; ‘who knows that the day is not to come when little Christine shall return to rule that house, and old Andrea shall find a haven for his years?’
“And, so thinking, I rode on towards my own city.”