His face was lividly
pale, and his eyes gleamed out from under the cowl with a restless
feverish brightness.
That he was ill could hardly be doubted. And it seemed to the lawyer
and the Commissary as well as to the old lay-brother, natural enough
to suppose that a man who fell ill at St. Apollinare was ill with
fever and ague. But whether that were really the nature of his
malady, his visitors had not sufficient medical knowledge to judge;
but it was probable enough that the aged monk had had quite
sufficient experience of fever and ague, to know pretty well
himself, whether he were suffering from that cause or not.
"We are sorry to find you ill, father," said Fortini; "and though we
have come from Ravenna on purpose to speak with you, we would not
have disturbed you if our business had not been important. Are you
suffering much now?"
"Not much more than usual," said the sick man, shutting his eyes,
while his pallid lips continued to move, as he muttered to himself
an "Ave Maria."
"And can you give us your attention for a few minutes?" rejoined the
lawyer.
"I will answer to your asking as far as I can; but my head is
confused, and I don't remember much clearly about anything. It seems
to me as if I had been lying on this bed for months and months,"
replied the old friar.
"And yet, you know, you were up and well yesterday morning, when you
were with the young girl who came to copy the mosaics, you know, on
the scaffolding in the church?" said the lawyer.
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