“Well, what is it?” “Montague Hill is recovering consciousness,” he said. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. He knew she had been weeping. She spent many days in the castle alone as he busied himself with his alchemy, or traveled to Florence to visit his remaining political connections. It was not the arrival of the guests, but merely the maid moving about in the hall. Accordingly, having armed himself with various weapons, including a stout oaken staff then ordinarily borne by the watch, and put a coil of rope and a gag in his pocket, to be ready in case of need, he set out, about ten o'clock, on the expedition. So, adroitly and patiently, he pulled Ruth apart; that is, he plucked forth a little secret here, another there, until he had quite a substantial array. To think of him as loving her would make all that different.
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