"If it be God's will!" said Benedetto, with an affectionate gesture of
farewell.
The lad detained him a moment, holding his hand.
"I am a Lombard also," said he. "I am Alberti, from Milan. Do not forget
me!"
And his intense gaze followed Benedetto until he disappeared at a bend
of the mule-path.
* * * * *
At sight of the cross with its great arms, rising on the brow of the
hill, Benedetto suddenly shuddered with emotion, and was obliged to
stop. When he once more started forward he was seized with giddiness.
Swaying, he stepped aside a few yards, leaving the way free for
passers-by, and sank upon the grass, In a hollow of the field. Then,
closing his eyes, he realised that this was no passing disturbance, but
something far more serious. He did not become entirely unconscious, but
he lost the sense of hearing and of touch, his memory, and all account
of time. When he first recovered his senses, the feeling on the backs of
his hands, of the coarse cloth, different from that of his usual habit,
filled him with a curiosity, rather amused than troubled, concerning his
own identity.
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