ckly ducal infant, between Odo and thesuccession to the throne of Pianura. Such was the news conveyedpost-haste from Turin by Donna Laura; who added the Duke's express w

et the change inhis condition was striking enough to excuse the fancy of those about himfor shaping the future to their liking. The priestling was to turncourtier and perhaps soldier; Asti was to b

rficial incident had dropped from his past, that those last days atDonnaz gained their full distinctness. He saw them then, heavy with thewarmth of the long summer, from the topmost pine-belt to the bronzedviney

aste words and heknew the futility of asserting the Church's claim to theheir-presumptive of a reigning house. Therefore if he showed noenthusiasm he betrayed no resentment; but, the evening b

e throne ofPianura; but even so," he went on, "there is this I would have youremember: that should this dignity come to you it may come as a calamityrather than a joy; for when God confers earthly honours on a child ofHis predilection, He sometimes deigns to render them as innocuous asmisfortune; and my chief prayer for you is that you should be raised tothis eminence, it may be at a moment

e oldhuntsman's rheumatism had caught him in the knee, and that the Marquess,resolved not to delay his grandson's departure, had chosen Cantaprestoas the boy's companion. The courtyard, when Odo descended, fairlybubbled with the voluble joy of the fat soprano, who was giving

ed, "And youlie but one night on the road."Meanwhile the old Marquess, visibly moved, was charging Odo to respecthis elders and superiors, while in the same breath warning him not totake up with the Frenchified notions of the court, but to remember thatfor a lad of his condition the chief virtues were a tight seat in thesaddle, a quick hand on the sword and a slow tongue in counsel. "Mindyour own business," he c

t was but a few hours since Odo had travelled fromOropa, years seemed to have passed over him, and he saw the world with anew eye. Each sound and scent plucked at him in passing: the roadsidestarted into detail like the foreground of some minute Dutch painter;every pendent mass of fern, dark dripping rock, late tuft of harebellcalled out to him: "Look well, for this is your last sight of us!" Hisfirst sight too, it seemed: since he had lived through twelve Italiansummers without sense of t

ain unrolled to the southward its interminable blue-green distancesmottled with forest. A sight to lift the heart; for on those sunnyreaches Ivrea, Novara, Vercelli lay like sea-birds on a summer sea. Itwas the f

foot, hadlapped the abate in Capuan slumber. The midday halt aroused him. Thetravellers rested at an inn on the edge of the hills, and hereCantapresto proved to his charge that, as he phrased it, his be

e raising such apother north of the Alps: a set of madmen that, because their birthdoesn't give them the entree of Versailles, are preaching that menshould return to a state of nature, great ladies suckle their young likeanimals, and the peasantry own their land like nobles. Luckily you'llhear little of this infectious talk in Turin: the King stamps out thephilosophers like vermin or packs them off to splutter their heresies inMilan or Venice. But to a nobleman mindful of the privileges of hiscondition there is no more agreeable sojourn i

wheat from this indulgent soil? I protestwhen I look on such a scene as this, it is sufficient incentive tolowliness to remember that the meek shall inherit the earth!"This mood held Cantapresto till his after-dinner sleep overtook him; andwhen he woke again the chariot was clattering across the bridge ofChivasso. The Po rolled its sunset crimson between flats that seemeddull and featureless after the broken scenery of the hills; but be

prano with cries of joyous recognition. He was evidently anold favourite of the band, for a duenna in tattered velvet fell on hisneck with genial unreser

the curiosity with which he observed these strange objects ofthe Church's reprobation. They struck him, it must be owned, as morepitiable than alarming, for the duenna's toes were coming through hershoes, and one or two of the children who hung on the outskirts of thegroup looked as lean and

mpanions! When was it weparted? In the spring

u have the same old cassock toyour back!""And the same old passage from your mouth to your belly," added anelastic Harlequin, reaching an arm across the women's shoulders. "Come,Cantapresto, we'll help you line it with good wine, to the health of hismost superlatively serene Highness, the heir-presumptive of Pianura; andwhere is that fabulous personage, by the way?"Odo at this retreated hastily behind the soprano; but a pretty girlcatching sight of him, he found himself dragged into the c

linged tavern. Even the face ofthe pretty girl who had dragged him from his concealment, and who nowsat at his side, plying him with sweets from her own plate, began tofade into the general blur; and his last impression was of Cantapresto'sfigure dilating to immense proportions at the other end of the table, asthe sopra

the heir-presumptive of Pianurafell asleep