t
was in myself; that here was a sign of Heaven's displeasure at the
impurity of the guardian of that holy place.

"But the music!" cried one of the cripples raucously. "I hear the
blessed music!"

I halted, and the crowd fell very still to listen. We all heard it
pealing softly, soothingly, as from the womb of the mountain, and a
great cry went up once more from that vast assembly, a hopeful cry that
where one miracle was happening another must happen, that where the
angelic choirs were singing all must be well.

And then with a thunder of hooves and clank of metal the troop that I
had seen came over the pasture-lands, heading straight for my hermitage,
having turned aside from the road. At the foot of the hillock upon which
my hut was perched they halted at a word from their leader.

I stood at gaze, and most of the people too craned their necks to see
what unusual pilgrim was this who came to the shrine of St. Sebastian.

The leader swung himself unaided from the saddle, full-armed as he was;
then going to a litter in the rear, he assisted a woman to alight from
it.

All this I watched, and I observed too that the device upon the
bannerols was the head of a white horse. By that device I knew them.
They were of the house of Cavalcanti--a house that had, as I had heard,
been in alliance and great friendship with my father. But that their
coming hither should have anything to do with me or with that friendship
I was assured was impossible. Not a single soul could know of my
whereabouts or the identity of the present hermit of Monte Orsaro.

The pair advanced, leaving the troop below to await their return, and as
they came I considered them, as did, too, the multitude.

The man was of middle height, very broad and active, with long arms, to
one of which the little lady clung for help up the steep path. He had a
proud, stern aquiline face that was shaven, so that the straight lines
of his strong mouth and powerful length of jaw looked as if chiselled
out of stone. It was only at closer quarters that I observed how the
general hardness of that countenance was softened by the kindliness of
his deep brown eyes. In age I judged him to be forty, though in reality
he was nearer fifty.

The little lady at his side was the daintiest maid that I had ever
seen. The skin, white as a water-lily, was very gently flushed upon her
cheeks; the face was delicately oval; the little mouth, the tenderest
in all the world; the fore