"Pluto!"
"Yes, your worship. A black bear that the cavaliere Paolo, who holds the house, has as a pet," and he commenced to weep.
I felt for the faithful fellow's grief, but said nothing, and after a little he composed himself.
"Come, Gian," I said, laying my hand on his shoulder, "be a man, and we will have an eye for an eye."
He ground his teeth but made no reply, I and went on--
"How far is the house from here?"
"Close," he said. "We can reach it by the Porto San Angelo."
"Come, then."
"There is no need for the crutches now," he remarked, as he tucked them under his arm. "I will use them when we come to the gate. Will your excellency follow?"
As we walked northward over the hills, I continued my questions: