he frontier. There, between the Valle del Confine and the Val
Malghera, the forest had been recently cut down, and the rocky slope was
bare. This enhanced both the danger of falling, and that of discovery.
He crossed this tract very slowly, often pausing, sometimes crawling on
hands and knees. Before reaching Oria he heard the faint dip of oars far
below. He knew the customs-guards' boat sometimes passed the shore of
Val Malghera at night. Surely these were the guards. Beneath the
chestnut trees of Origa he breathed freely once more. There he was
hidden, and could walk noiselessly on the grass. He descended the
western slope of Val Malghera and climbed up the other side without
encountering any obstacles. On approaching Rooch his heart beat
furiously. Rooch is a sort of outpost of Oria. There the little path
ends that he had so often followed with Luisa on mild winter afternoons,
gathering violets and laurel leaves, and talking of the future. He
remembered that the last time, they had had a discussion concerning the
most desirable husband for Maria, and the qualities he must possess.
Franco had hoped he would be a country gentleman, but Luisa had been in
favour of a civil engineer.

Rooch is a little farmhouse perched above a few small fields which lie
terraced against the hillside, and form a small, light clearing among
the surrounding woods. The stable, a room above it, a small portico in
front of the stable, a cistern under the portico--that is all. The
little portico is just above the narrow paved way that passes some two
or three metres below. It is only a few steps from the comb of the
ravine of Val Malghera, to Rooch. Having reached the comb, Franco heard
low voices in the farmhouse.

He paused and drawing aside, stretched himself, face downwards, upon the
grass, beyond the path, and near a cluster of low chestnut trees. The
voices became silent, but he heard a man's steps coming rapidly towards
him; he lay quite still, holding his breath. The man stopped almost at
his side, waited a moment, and then slowly retraced his steps, saying in
a loud voice, with a foreign accent: "There is no one here, it must have
been a fox."

The guards! A long silence followed, during which Franco did not dare to
move. The guards once more began to talk, and he decided to crawl
noiselessly backwards, to drop down into Val Malghera and pass behind
and above the house. Slowly, very slowly he pulled off his boots. He was
about to mo