He twisted on his pallet of straw, and opened his eyes to horrible visions that marched across the roof of his cell. Fire, screams and Simonetta in danger. He slept at last, but the visions lived then behind his eyes, and he awoke to the grey day with his cheeks wet, in a panic of consternation that he could no longer remember Simonetta’s face. He headed for the lay hall to begin his work, and as he heard the nuns finish the songs of Terce he waited for Sister Bianca’s footsteps. He knew she would come, as she always did before she began the day’s offices. She took his instruction seriously, and he welcomed her company, more than ever today when he was afraid to be alone with his own forebodings. Presently he knew she was there, though she had entered on silent feet; and he felt rather than heard her seated behind him, knew he would turn to see her with her hands piously crossed, watching with wonder as a heathen painted a Holy scene as if he believed every story and symbol.
What do You think about The Madonna Of The Almonds?
