the absence of all answer to such question was supplied by the
gossips of Ravenna, by tales of some terrible crime against
ecclesiastical discipline of which the Padre Fabiano had been guilty
some sixty years or so ago. Certain it was that be had occupied his
dreary position for many years; and it was wonderful that fever and
ague and the marsh pestilence had not long since dismissed him to
the reward of his long penitence on earth.

He rose from his knees as Paolina approached him, and gravely bent
his cowled head to her in salutation.

"You are early, Signora," he said. "I suppose you are the person for
whom yonder scaffold has been prepared."

"Yes, father, I am the artist for whom leave has been obtained to
copy some of your mosaics."

"You will find it cold work, daughter. The church is damp somewhat.
You would do better, methinks, not to begin your day's work till the
sun has had time to warm the air a little."

"I had no thought, father, of beginning to-day. I have brought
nothing with me. I only thought that I would walk out and have a
look at the job before me. It is not so far from the city as I
thought."

"It is far enough to be as lonely and as deserted as if it were a
thousand miles from a human habitation," said the monk, looking into
the girl's face with a grave smile.