self checked by the pleading of his early religious
recollections; for now he had a leader who realized in his own person
all his conceptions of those primitive apostles and holy bishops who
first fed the flock of the Lord in Italy. He had heard from his lips the
fearless declaration, "If Rome is against me, know that it is not
contrary to me, but to Christ, and its controversy is with God: doubt
not that God will conquer"; and he embraced the cause with all the
enthusiasm of patriotism and knighthood. In his view, the most holy
place of his religion had been taken by a robber, who reigned in the
name of Christ only to disgrace it; and he felt called to pledge his
sword, his life, his knightly honor to do battle against him. He had
urged his uncle in Milan to make interest for the cause of Savonarola
with the King of France; and his uncle, with that crafty diplomacy which
in those days formed the staple of what was called statesmanship, had
seemed to listen favorably to his views,--intending, however, no more by
his apparent assent than to withdraw his nephew from the dangers in
which he stood in Italy, and bring him under his own influence and
guardianship in the court of France. But the wily diplomate had sent
Agostino Sarelli from his presence with the highest possible
expectations of his influence both with the King of France and the
Emperor of Germany in the present religious crisis in Italy.

And now the time was come, Agostino thought, to break the spell under
which Agnes was held,--to show her the true character of the men whom
she was beholding through a mist of veneration arising entirely from the
dewy freshness of ignorant innocence. All the way home from Florence he
had urged his horse onward, burning to meet her, to tell her all that he
knew and felt, to claim her as his own, and to take her into the sphere
of light and liberty in which he himself moved. He did not doubt his
power, when she should once be where he could speak with her freely,
without fear of interruption. Hers was a soul too good and pure, he
said, to be kept in chains of slavish ignorance any longer. When she
ceased singing, he spoke from the outer apartment,--"Agnes!"

The name was uttered in the softest tone, but it sent the blood to her
heart, as if it were the summons of doom. Everything seemed to swim
before her, and grow dark for a moment; but by a strong effort she
lifted her heart in prayer, and, rising, came towards him.

Agosti