"I believe not," said I. "On the other hand, he will not find me Virginia. Get up, Belviso, let us take counsel together. What is your opinion?" Belviso, thus adjured, rose to his feet and stood humbly before me. He was agitated--if by fear, then curiously; but it did not seem to be fear which put the slurred accents into his voice. "Senta, Don Francesco," he began, "what Virginia has done was all for love. She has acted according to her nature--as many would act--as all would act towards you, who knew your worth. O Dio!" cried the lad suddenly, gripping his chest with both hands, "O Dio! I would prove my love in the same sort if I were--if I were not--if you were--if you were not----" He began to weep piteously. I stared. "What is the matter with you, Belviso?" I asked him. "What would you do if you were, or were not, something which you are, or are not? Riddles, riddles, my dear." I was sorry he had seen me in such a rage, and laid a kindly arm upon his drooped shoulders. But Belviso sprang away. "Don't touch me--do not touch me," he said, panting. "You little know-- you cannot guess--and you never shall! What! shall I prove such an ingrate? You have befriended me, lifted me out of the mud. I have a soul now, it is worth saving. Virginia, that savage, fine girl, is not the only servant in the world. No, Mother Diana, we have hearts too in the Veneto----" He swept the storm from his eyes and calmed himself by the gesture. "Don Francis," he said, "let me leave you at this moment. I will find your Virginia--that fine girl. Trust me, leave all to me. I know Tuscany and the Tuscans. I will give her to you, never fear. In six weeks from now I will have her snug in Lucca. There you shall find her if you still want her, and if you do not----" "If I do not," I said, "you may blot the name of Francis Strelley from the Book of Life and Judgment. God bless you, Belviso, dear friend. Your words convince me. Go in peace. Take money, take what you choose--my love, my gratitude---" "I choose nothing but your confidence, and a kiss of your noble hand," said Belviso. "You shall grasp, not kiss, my hand," I told him. "You are a man, or will be one, as I am. Let us love, trust, meet, part, as men." I held out my hand, he took it, pressed it, seemed unable to let it go. Suddenly he dropped down and kissed my knee--but with ardour, with reverence, indescribable devotion; then sprang to his feet, and was gone. I made all preparations for my journey to Florence. CHAPTER XLI I RETURN TO FLORENCE AND THE WORLD OF FASHION