spectator to his shame; he heard no step, but he saw a shadow thrown over
the sward. He held his breath, and would not look up, with some vague
idea that if he refused to see he might escape being seen.




CHAPTER IX.

"/Per Bacco/!" said Dr. Riccabocca, putting his hand on Lenny's shoulder,
and bending down to look into his face,--"/per Bacco/! my young friend,
do you sit here from choice or necessity?"

Lenny slightly shuddered, and winced under the touch of one whom he had
hitherto regarded with a sort of superstitious abhorrence.

"I fear," resumed Riccabocca, after waiting in vain for an answer to his
question, "that though the situation is charming, you did not select it
yourself. What is this?"--and the irony of the tone vanished--"what is
this, my poor boy? You have been bleeding, and I see that those tears
which you try to check come from a deep well. Tell me, /povero fanciullo
mio/" (the sweet Italian vowels, though Lenny did not understand them,
sounded softly and soothingly),--"tell me, my child, how all this
happened. Perhaps I can help you; we have all erred,--we should all help
each other."

Lenny's heart, that just before had seemed bound in brass, found itself a
way as the Italian spoke thus kindly, and the tears rushed down; but he
again stopped them, and gulped out sturdily,--