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MONNA VALENTINA.
In after years the Lord of Aquila was wont to aver in all solemnity that it was the sight of her wondrous beauty set up such a disorder in his soul that it overcame his senses, and laid him swooning at her feet.
That he, himself, believed it so, it is not ours to doubt, for all that we may be more prone to agree with the opinion afterwards expressed by Fanfulla and the friar--and deeply resented by the Count--that in leaping to his feet in over-violent haste his wound re-opened, and the pain of this, combining with the weak condition that resulted from his loss of blood, had caused his sudden faintness.
"Who is this, Peppe ?" she asked the fool, and he, mindful of the oath he had sworn, answered her brazenly that he did not know, adding that it was--as she might see---some poor wounded fellow.
"Wounded ?" she echoed, and her glorious eyes grew very pitiful.

"And alone ?" "There was a gentleman here, tending him, Madonna; but he is gone with Fra Domenico to the Convent of Acquasparta to seek the necessaries to mend his shoulder." "Poor gentleman," she murmured, approaching the fallen figure.

"How came he by his hurt ?" "That, Madonna, is more than I can tell." "Can we do nothing for him until his friends return ?" was her next question, bending over the Count as she spoke.

"Come, Peppino," she cried, "lend me your aid.