ved not to delay his grandson's departure, had chosen Cantapresto
as the boy's companion. The courtyard, when Odo descended, fairly
bubbled with the voluble joy of the fat soprano, who was giving
directions to the servants, receiving commissions and instructions from
the aunts, assuring everybody of his undying devotion to the
heir-presumptive of Pianura, and citing impressive instances of the
responsibilities with which the great of the earth had formerly
entrusted him.
As a companion for Odo the abate was clearly not to Don Gervaso's taste;
but he stood silent, turning the comment of a cool eye on the soprano's
protestations, and saying only, as Cantapresto swept the company into
the circle of an obsequious farewell:--"Remember, signor abate, it is to
your cloth this business is entrusted." The abate's answer was a rush of
purple to the forehead; but Don Gervaso imperturbably added, "And you
lie but one night on the road."
Meanwhile the old Marquess, visibly moved, was charging Odo to respect
his elders and superiors, while in the same breath warning him not to
take up with the Frenchified notions of the court, but to remember that
for a lad of his condition the chief virtues were a tight seat in the
saddle, a quick hand on the sword and a slow tongue in counsel. "Mind
your own business," he concluded, "and see that others mind theirs."
The Marchioness thereupon, with many tears, hung a scapular about Odo's
neck, bidding him shun the theatre and be regular at confession; one of
the canonesses reminded him not to omit a visit to the chapel of the
Holy Winding-sheet, while the other begged him to burn a candle for her
at the Consolata; and the servants pressed forward to embrace and bless
their little master.
Day was high by this, and as the Marquess's travelling-chariot rumbled
down the valley the shadows seemed to fly before it. Odo at first lay
numb; but presently his senses woke to the call of the brightening
landscape. The scene was such as Salvator might have painted: wild
blocks of stone heaped under walnut-shade; here the white plunge of
water down a wall of granite, and there, in bluer depths, a charcoal
burner's hut sending up its spiral of smoke to the dark raftering of
branches. Though it was but a few hours since Odo had travelled from
Oropa, years seemed to have passed over him, and he saw the world with a
new eye. Each sound and scent plucked at him in passing: the roadside
started into detail lik
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