188
ROMOLA.
over-taxed, "I had it from a man who was dying."
"He is dead, then?" said Tito, with a bounding of the heart.
"Not the writer. The man who gave it me was a pilgrim, like myself, to whom the writer had entrusted it, because he was journeying to Italy."
"You know the contents?"
"I do not know them, but I conjecture them. Your friend is in slavery—you will go and release him. But I am unable to talk now." The friar, whose voice had become feebler and feebler, sank down on the stone bench against the wall from which he had risen to touch Tito's hand, adding,
"I am at San Marco; my name is Fra Luca."
