A cyclist rode up, got off his machine,
and, having inquired why these people were assembled there, made them
tell him exactly where the Saint of Jenne was. Then he mounted his
bicycle once more and started off at full speed. Shortly afterwards a
close carriage--a so-called "_botte_"--followed by the same cyclist,
stopped before the door. A gentleman got out, pushed his way through the
crowd, and entered the house. The cyclist remained near the carriage.
The gentleman exchanged a few words with the concierge, whom he desired
to accompany him as far as the door, where the little hunchback stood,
trembling, and clasping her rosary. He knocked, regardless of her silent
gesticulations, as she implored the Madonna to send this intruder away.
It was Benedetto who came to open the door.
"I beg your pardon," said the stranger, politely, "are you Signor
Maironi?"
"I no longer bear that name," Benedetto replied, quietly, "but I once
bore it."
"I am sorry to trouble you. I should be greatly obliged if you would
kindly come with me. I will tell you where presently.
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