"And the doctor? You have been to him? Where is he?"

"Where should he be? He waits for the other young gentleman, Mr Stephen, on the Piazzetta.”

"He is waiting? Why did not you say so? Stephen, you must go to them at once. I will go to the boy, and do everything. Don't say anything about it to them. They have enough to worry them. Leave everything to me. And Stephenbe gentle to her." He wrung his friend's hand and was half-way down-stairs before Aylward could promise.

"Come," said Stephen, and he went out with the old woman chattering at his heels.

Σ

178

CHAPTER XV.

"Pistol him, pistol him!
"Peace, peace!"

FAR off on the wide lagoon an old monastery stands and blinks in the sunlight with half-shaded windows. About it is a single meadow almost level with the level waters save where on its weakest side a long low bank is raised against the encroaching sea. About it too is a strange atmosphere of peace, of indifference to the restless world, of loneliness and silence. And indeed the brethren dwelling and dreaming there keep silence for the most part even from good words, and seem content. They do not care to dig, but leave the wild flowers to peep among the thick green grass. And indeed the island needs no culture, but is majestical enough with its one group of ancient cypresses, whose trunks are tall and straight and bare until high

up their thick green crowns are dark against the perfect blue. It is hard to believe that the old wall was ever built, for it seems to have grown there with its own ivy. Above the ancient porch these words are written: "O Solitudo, sola Beatitudo."

On every side of the low-lying island-meadow is shallow water, but here and there the placid surface is broken by strips and patches of dark level earth. Out on these misty flats one early morning the report of two pistols fired together rang sharp and clear, breaking the slumbrous charm of the place with sharp indubitable message from the outer world, fluttering the monastic dovecotes, frightening the isle from its imperturbable propriety. Many brethren came hastily flocking together and staring with eyes opened unusually wide. They could with difficulty distinguish certain dark figures on a low bank towards the east. Presently a gondola put off and came quickly towards them urged at full speed; and before they could consult together or even guess at this strange thing which was to be, there on the turf at their feet was laid a wounded boy.

The tall man wrapped in a military cloak saluted them respectfully, and turned away to bend again over the still form of his young enemy, while the

doctor briefly demanded shelter for his charge. "Give him repose and quiet," he said, "and I will do the rest." Then he touched the kneeling captain on the shoulder and pointed to the boat. "You must go at once," he said. "You shall hear; I will write; all will go well."

Tiribomba was still staring at the boy. "He is too young," he said in a strange tone. "I did not know; I did not think;" and he stepped into the gondola without another word.

The monks were lost in astonishment, for not within the memory of the oldest among them had so strange a thing happened in that place. Nevertheless under the direction of the young doctor they accepted their burden very gently, bore him under the old inscription, and laid him in a narrow bed. Nor were the astounding events of the day yet ended; for presently came another young Englishman demanding admission making passionate inquiries. He would not be denied, but almost forced an entrance: he would not be thrust out, but established himself firmly as nurse So after some further fluttering the brethren accepted the inevitable, and slowly settled down to their accustomed peace. Suns rose and set; mists melted in the light; solitary men passed and repassed; and young

Lord Cheepyre still lay in the little bed, high up in the narrow bare room.

Philip Lamond was growing accustomed to this unusual life, and was rather proud of his improvement as nurse under the doctor's tuition. He had given himself wholly to the one purpose of restoring the luckless Freddie safe and sound to his friends -to her who would be his best friend. For amusement he walked forth alone measuring the islandmeadow with slow feet; standing to gaze now at the dark cypress-tops, now far away to the opaline still distance where Venice veiled herself; murmuring half a hundred times a day, "O Solitudo, sola Beatitudo."

One day he sat staring from Cheepyre's window, quietly congratulating himself for he had discerned a decided improvement in his charge. Heretofore the wounded hero had been too weak and listless to do more than live, and had accepted help and care with only a faint wish to be let alone. But to-day there was a real change for the better, and therewith a tendency to loquacity. Lying in bed with his curly hair in disorder and his complexion delicate as a girl's he looked very unlike the man of the world. Letting a little blood had let out a wonderful amount of knowingness. Further dissimulation was impossible. He was frankly,