And as the monk plied his pencil, touching here and there, and elaborating the outlines of his drawing, he sang,—­

  “Ave, Maris Stella,
  Dei mater alma,
  Atque semper virgo,
  Felix coeli porta!

  “Virgo singularis,
  Inter omnes mitis,
  Nos culpis solutos
  Mites fac et castos!

  “Vitam praesta puram,
  Iter para tutum,
  Ut videntes Jesum
  Semper collaetemur!"[A]

[Footnote A: 

  Hail, thou Star of Ocean,
  Thou forever virgin
  Mother of the Lord! 
  Blessed gate of Heaven,
  Take our heart’s devotion!

  Virgin one and only,
  Meekest ’mid them all,
  From our sins set free,
  Make us pure like thee,
  Freed from passion’s thrall!

  Grant that in pure living,
  Through safe paths below,
  Forever seeing Jesus,
  Rejoicing we may go!
]

As the monk sang, Agnes soon appeared at the door.

“Ah, my little bird, you are there!” he said, looking up.

“Yes,” said Agnes, coming forward, and looking over his shoulder at his work.

“Did you find that young sculptor?” she asked.

“That I did,—­a brave boy, too, who will row down the coast and dig us marble from an old heathen temple, which we will baptize into the name of Christ and his Mother.”

“Pietro was always a good boy,” said Agnes.

“Stay,” said the monk, stepping into his little sleeping-room; “he sent you this lily; see, I have kept it in water all night.”

“Poor Pietro, that was good of him!” said Agnes.  “I would thank him, if I could.  But, uncle,” she added, in a hesitating voice, “did you see anything of that—­other one?”

“That I did, child,—­and talked long with him.”

“Ah, uncle, is there any hope for him?”

“Yes, there is hope,—­great hope.  In fact, he has promised to receive me again, and I have hopes of leading him to the sacrament of confession, and after that”——­

“And then the Pope will forgive him!” said Agnes, joyfully.

The face of the monk suddenly fell; he was silent, and went on retouching his drawing.

“Do you not think he will?” said Agnes, earnestly.  “You said the Church was ever ready to receive the repentant.”

“The True Church will receive him,” said the monk, evasively; “yes, my little one, there is no doubt of it.”

“And it is not true that he is captain of a band of robbers in the mountains?” said Agnes.  “May I tell Father Francesco that it is not so?”

“Child, this young man hath suffered a grievous wrong and injustice; for he is lord of an ancient and noble estate, out of which he hath been driven by the cruel injustice of a most wicked and abominable man, the Duke di Valentinos,[B] who hath caused the death of his brothers and sisters, and ravaged the country around with fire and sword, so that he hath been driven with his retainers to a fortress in the mountains.”