"
"Or I to see this morning a Venetian--much less--but we will speak
more of that another time--if you will permit an old man sometimes
to speak to you when you are at your work?"
"Ma come--I can talk while I work. It will be a real pleasure to me
to hear the dear home tongue. I will go down the ladder first. I am
not the least afraid."
So Paolina left the church, and the monk stood at the yawning ever-
open western door, looking after her as she took the path he had
indicated to her towards the forest.
CHAPTER V
"The Hours passed, and still she came not"
There was misgiving in the heart of the old man as he stood at the
door of the Basilica looking after the light little form of Paolina
as she moved along the path, raised above the swamp on either side,
that led towards the edge of the forest.
The rays of the sun slanting from the eastward lighted up all the
path on which she was walking; and though the western front of the
church was still in shade, had begun to suck up the mists, and to
make the air feel at least somewhat more genial and wholesome. The
monk pushed back the cowl of his frock, which had hitherto been
drawn over his head, the better to watch the receding figure of the
girl as she moved slowly along the path; and still, as he gazed
after her, he shook his head from time to time with an uneasy sense
of misgiving.
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