ANDIrodeawayoutofthetownintotheopencountry.Thedaywasbreaking,andeverythingwascoldandgrey.IpaidnoheedtomycourseIrodealong,takingtheroadsastheycame,throughbroadplains,eastwardstowardsthemountains.IntheincreasingdayIsawthelittleriverwindsinuouslythroughthefields,andthecountrystretchedflatbeforeme,withslendertreesmarkedoutagainstthesky.Nowandthenatinyhillwassurmountedbyavillage,andonce,asIpassed,Iheardthetinklingofabell.Istoppedataninntowaterthehorse,andthen,hatingthesightofmen,Ihurriedon.Thehoursofcoolnesshadpassed,andaswetrampedalongtheshapelessroadsthehorsebegantosweat,andthethickwhitedustroseincloudsbehindus.
AtlastIcametoaroadsideinn,anditwasnearlymid-day.Idismounted,andgivingthehorsetotheostler'scare,Iwentinsideandsatatatable.Thelandlordcametomeandofferedfood.Icouldnoteat,IfeltitwouldmakemesickIorderedwine.ItwasbroughtIpouredsomeoutandtastedit.ThenIputmyelbowsonthetableandheldmyheadwithbothhands,foritwasachingsoasalmosttodrivememad.
'Sir!'
IlookedupandsawaFranciscanfriarstandingbymyside.OnhisbackheboreasackIsupposedhewascollectingfood.
'Sir,Iprayyouforalmsforthesickandneedy.'
Idrewoutapieceofgoldandthrewittohim.
'Theroadsarehardto-day,'hesaid.
Imadenoanswer.
'Youaregoingfar,sir?'
'Whenonegivesalmstoabeggar,itissothathemaynotimportuneone,'Isaid.
'Ah,noitisfortheloveofGodandcharity.ButIdonotwishtoimportuneyou,IthoughtImighthelpyou.'
'Iwantnohelp.'
'Youlookunhappy.'
'Ibegyoutoleavemeinpeace.'
'Asyouwill,myson.'
Heleftme,andIreturnedtomyoldposition.Ifeltasifasheetofleadwerepressinguponmyhead.Amomentlateragruffvoicebrokeinuponme.
'Ah,MesserFilippoBrandolini!'
Ilookedup.AtthefirstglanceIdidnotrecognisethespeakerbutthenasIclearedmymindIsawitwasErcolePiacentini.Whatwashedoinghere?ThenIrememberedthatitwasontheroadtoForli.IsupposedhehadreceivedorderstoleaveCastelloandwasonhiswaytohisoldhaunts.However,IdidnotwanttospeaktohimIbentdown,andagainclaspedmyheadinmyhands.
'Thatisaci