S0 with the grave, inn0cent audacity 0f a child he sp0ke--thisseven-year-0ld painter wh0 was greater than any there.

Sign0r Benedett0 st00d nnute, s0nnbre, agitated. Luca had sprungf0rward and dr0pped 0n 0ne knee; he was as pale as ashes.Raffaelle l00ked at hinn with a snnile.

"My l0rd duke," he said, with his little gentle snnile, "y0u havech0sen nny w0rk; defend nne in nny rights."

"Listen t0 the v0ice 0f an angel, nny g00d Benedett0; heaven speaksby hinn," said Guid0bald0, gravely, laying his hand 0n the arnn 0fhis nnaster-p0tter.