“I wonder do you understand yourself?” he asked. “I think not. I think not. Since God has made you a fool, it but remains for man to make you a priest, and thus complete God's work.” “You cannot move me by your taunts,” I said. “You have a foul mind, Messer Fifanti.” He approached me slowly, his untidily shod feet slip-slopping on the wooden floor. “Because,” said he, “I suspect that Messer Gambara... that Messer Gambara and Madonna... that... You understand me,” he mocked me, with a mimicry of my own confusion. “And what affair may it be of yours whom I suspect or of what I suspect them where my own are concerned?” “It is my affair, as it is the affair of every man who would be accounted gentle, to defend the honour of a pure and saintly lady from the foul aspersions of slander.” “Knight-errantry, by the Host!” quoth he, and his brows shot up on his steep brow. Then they came down again to scowl. “No doubt, my preux-chevalier, you will have definite knowledge of the groundlessness of these same slanders,” he said, moving backwards, away from me, towards the door; and as he moved now his feet made no sound, though I did not yet notice this nor, indeed, his movement at all. “Knowledge?” I roared at him. “What knowledge can you need beyond what is afforded by her face? Look in it, Messer Fifanti, if you would see innocence and purity and chastity! Look in it!” “Very well,” said he. “Let us look in it.” And quite suddenly he pulled the door open to disclose Giuliana standing there, erect but in a listening attitude. “Look in it!” he mocked me, and waved one of his bony hands towards that perfect countenance. There was shame and confusion in her face, and some anger. But she turned without a word, and went quickly down the passage, followed by his evil, cackling laugh. Then he looked at me quite solemnly. “I think,” said he, “you had best get to your studies. You will find more than enough to engage you there. Leave my affairs to me, boy.” There was almost a menace in his voice, and after what had happened it was impossible to pursue the matter. Sheepishly, overwhelmed with confusion, I went out--a knight-errant with a shorn crest. CHAPTER IV. MY LORD GAMBARA CLEARS THE GROUND I had angered her! Worse; I had exposed her to humiliation at the hands of that unworthy animal who soiled her in thought with the slime of his suspicions. Through me she had been put to the shameful need of listening at a door, and had been subjected to the ignominy of being so discovered. Through me she had been mocked and derided! It was all anguish to me. For her there was no shame, no humiliation, no pain I would not suffer, and take joy in the suffering so that it be for her. But to have submitted that sweet, angelic woman to suffering--to have incurred her just anger! Woe me!