'Oh, no. I reeked, I stank of dog. The great hound I had ripped up when it was upon me had left me in that condition, and the other hounds scented nothing but dog in me. The explanation, my lord, lies between that and miracle.' Facino slowly nodded. 'And you do not believe in miracles?' he asked. 'Your lordship's patience with me is the first miracle I have witnessed.' 'It is the miracle you hoped for when you adopted me for your father?' 'Nay, my lord. My hope was that you would never hear of the adoption.' Facino laughed outright. 'You're a frank rogue,' said he, and heaved himself up. 'Yet it would have gone ill with you if I had not heard that a son had suddenly been given to me.' To Bellarion's amazement the great soldier came to set a hand upon his shoulder, the dark eyes, whose expression could change so swiftly from humour to melancholy, looked deeply into his own. 'Your attempt to save Pusterla's life without counting the risk to yourself was a gallant thing, for which I honour you, and for which you deserve well of me. And they are to make a monk of you, you say?' 'That is the Abbot's hope.' Bellarion had flushed a little under the sudden, unexpected praise and the softening of the voice that bestowed it. 'And it may follow,' he added, 'when I return from Pavia.' 'The Abbot's hope? But is it your own?' 'I begin to fear that it is not.' 'By Saint Gotthard, you do not look a likely priest. But that is your own affair.' The hand fell from his shoulder, Facino turned, and sauntered away in the direction of the loggia, beyond which the night glowed luminously blue as a sapphire. 'From me you shall have the protection you invoked when you adopted me, and to-morrow, well-accredited and equipped, you shall resume the road to Pavia and your studies.' 'You establish, my lord, my faith in miracles,' said Bellarion. Facino smiled as he beat his hands together. Lackeys in his blue-and-white liveries appeared at once in answer to that summons. His orders were that Bellarion should be washed and fed, whereafter they would talk again. CHAPTER III THE COUNTESS OF BIANDRATE Facino Cane and Bellarion talked long together on the night of their first meeting, and as a result the road to Pavia was not resumed upon the morrow, nor yet upon the morrow's morrow. It was written that some years were yet to pass before Bellarion should see Pavia, and then not at all with the eyes of the student seeking a seat of learning.