ly. "I do not wish to be his
enemy. I do not promise to be his friend." |

"I will send him to you," said the Prior. "Wait here till he comes."

He left Brian alone; and the young man, thinking it likely that | he
would be undisturbed for sometime to come, bent his face upon his hands,
and tried to [missing word] his position. The strange tangle of
circumstances in which he found himself involved would never be easy of
adjustment; he wished with all his heart that he had refused the Prior's
offer to make his foster-brother known to him, but it was too late now.
Was it too late? Could he not send for Padre Cristoforo, and beg him to
leave the Italian peasant in his own quiet home, ignorant of Brian's
visit to the place where he was born? He would do it; and then he would
leave San Stefano for ever; it was not yet too late.

He lifted up his head and rose to his feet. He was not alone in the
room. To his surprise he saw before him his friend, Dino.

"You have come from Padre Cristoforo, have you?" said Brian, quickly and
impetuously. He took no notice of the young man's manifest agitation and
discomfort, which would have been clear to anybody less pre-occupied
than Brian, at that moment. "Tell him from me that there is no need for
me to see the man that he spoke of--that I do not wish to meet him. He
will understand what I mean."

A change, like that produced by a sudden electric shock, passed over
Dino's face. His hands fell to his sides. They had been outstretched
before, as if in greeting.

"You do not want to see him?" he repeated.

"I will not see him," said Brian, harshly, almost violently. "Weak as I
am, I'll go straight out of the house and village sooner than meet him.
Why does he want to see me? I have nothing to give him now."

Long afterwards he remembered the look on Dino's face. Pain, regret,
yearning affection, seemed to struggle for the mastery; his eyes were
filled with tears, his lips were pale. But he said nothing. He went away
from the room, and took the message that had been given him to the
Prior.

Brian felt that he had perhaps been selfish, but he consoled himself
with the thought that the peasant lad would gain nothing by a meeting
with him, and that such an embarrassing interview, as it must
necessarily be, would be a pain to them both.

But he did not know that the foster-brother (brother or foster-brother,
which could it be?) was sobbing on the floor of the Prior's cell, in a
passio