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It seemed hard to take leave
of his mother's oratory in the presence of these
officials.
"Have you any objection to leaving the room
for a moment?" he asked. "You see that I cannot
escape and that there is nothing to conceal."
"I am sorry, but it is forbidden to leave a
prisoner alone."
"Very well, it doesn't matter."
He went into the alcove, and, kneeling down,
kissed the feet and pedestal of the crucifix, whispering
softly: "Lord, keep me faithful unto death."
When he rose, the officer was standing by the
table, examining Montanelli's portrait. "Is this
a relative of yours?" he asked.
"No; it is my confessor, the new Bishop of
Brisighella."
On the staircase the Italian servants were waiting,
anxious and sorrowful. They all loved Arthur
for his own sake and his mother's, and crowded
round him, kissing his hands and dress with
passionate grief. Gian Battista stood by, the
tears dripping down his gray moustache. None
of the Burtons came out to take leave of him.


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