The grave, deep eyes above him grew
suddenly tender with divine compassion at the
sight of his face.
"Stand bark a little, friends," Montanelli said,
turning to the crowd; "I want to speak to him."
The people fell slowly back, whispering to each
other, and the Gadfly, sitting motionless, with
teeth clenched and eyes on the ground, felt the
gentle touch of Montanelli's hand upon his
shoulder.
"You have had some great trouble. Can I do
anything to help you?"
The Gadfly shook his head in silence.
"Are you a pilgrim?"
"I am a miserable sinner."
The accidental similarity of Montanelli's question
to the password came like a chance straw,
that the Gadfly, in his desperation, caught at, answering
automatically. He had begun to tremble
under the soft pressure of the hand that seemed
to burn upon his shoulder.
The Cardinal bent down closer to him.
"Perhaps you would care to speak to me alone?
If I can be any help to you----"
For the first time the Gadfly looked straight
and steadily into Montanelli's eyes; he was already
recovering his self-command.
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