It had to go, and there was no help for it. With an effort I rose and, thrusting the cross into my pocket, hurried into the street. My way led to the ward of San Spirito, and it took me some little time to reach the place where I meant to dispose of the jewel. When I reached it, I was so overcome with weakness that I had to halt for a moment to rest. It was during that halt, that hesitation of a minute, that my courage came back to me, and I pulled forth the cross and held it in my cold fingers with a heart tossed by conflicting emotions. I could not do it. Death would be preferable. Well, I had faced death before, and there was no reason why I should not do so again with an equal mind. The Arno was deep enough to hold me, and God would perhaps be kinder in the next world than in this. I placed the cross back slowly, my honour was still white, and death that was coming would give me a full quittance for all my troubles. I turned my back on the pawnbroker's, and went towards the Arno; but I had miscalculated my strength, and near Santa Felicita I felt a sudden giddiness and sank downwards on the pavement. I struggled to rise, but the faintness increased, and dragging myself close to the wall I leaned against it in a sitting posture, and a kind of stupor fell upon me, through which I still felt the intolerable pangs of hunger. In a little time I felt better, and as I saw the flash of torches, and heard voices in laughing conversation, I made an effort to rise, gaining my feet just as two ladies, with their attendants, came opposite to me, and then I staggered back again. "Poor man! He is hurt." "I am starving," I said in the bitterness of my agony, and the next moment could have killed myself, for I recognised the ladies whom I had rescued from Luigi in the Garden of St. Michael. I had my desire and had seen her again; but how? Madonna Angiola made a hurried search for her purse, and not finding it, with a hasty movement tore something off a bracelet, and thrust it into my hand. Before I could recover from my astonishment they had gone on, and although I called after them, they did not stop. The shame of having received charity, and from her, was all but unbearable; but with it I felt the hand of hunger knocking at me in a manner that would take no denial. My courage was gone, and urged by the fierce pangs of my hunger, I resolved to utilise the gift, and obtain some food to give me strength to die. I smile as I think of this now. Then it was no laughing matter. I plucked myself up sufficiently to go back to the pawnshop. Entering it, I placed the article, which I judged to be a jewel, but which I had not even examined, before the man in attendance, and asked for an advance thereon. "It is one of the gold tari of Amain," he said, poising it on his finger, "and of full weight. Do you wish to sell it?" "No," I replied, "I merely wish to pledge it."