polita. "Have I killed that Jew, Annina?"

"It is to be understood, my dear. Now come, there is everything to
arrange."

There was indeed. Del Dardo would have swooned to see how Annina handled
his Unapproachable. Her burnished hair was off with a clip or two of the
great shears; a mixture of soot and walnut-juice hid up her roses, and
transformed her ivory limbs to the similitude of a tanner's. Ippolita
did not know herself. Veiled up close, she crept into the garden with
her confidante, and in a bower by the canal completed her
transformation. Not Daphne suffered a ruder change. A pair of ragged
breeches, swathes of cloth on her legs, an old shirt, a cloak of patched
clouts, shapeless hat of felt, sandals for her feet, shod staff for her
hand--behold the peerless Ippolita, idol of half Padua, turned into a
sheepish overgrown boy in tatters, whose bathing could only have been in
sweat, and the scent of his garments the rankness of goats. On the floor
in a shining heap lay the silk robes, the chains and jewels, only
witness with Annina of what had been done. That same Annina clasped in
her arms the tall boy.

"Oh, my dear, my dear!" she said, half sobbing, "if any ill should come
of this I shall kill myself."

"No ill will come, Nannina, believe me," replied Ippolita, quite calm.
"You are sure they expect me?"

"I see them on the riviera now. Slip into the boat. I will put you
across."

On the other bank, Ippolita was received by the herd-boys, all agog to
see the champion who had killed the Jew.

"Addio, Silvestro," said Annina, keeping up the play.

"Addio, Nannina," said Silvestro, with a chuckle.

"Are we ready, boys?" Petruccio called out, turning about him. "We must
be careful what we're doing."

"Hist, Silvestro," whispered one, with a nudge; "did he bleed much?"

"Cosa terribile--a flood!" Silvestro spread out his hands.

"Cristo! The glory of it!"

"Valentino, I scrag you, my man, if you speak of the Jew till we are out
of the Porta San Zuan," growled Petruccio, the leader: "Avanti!" And the
drab-coloured crew moved off towards the sunset.

VI

SILVESTRO

The guard at the Porta San Zuan let them go unheeded; one ragamuffin
more or less made no odds. The heart of the new-born Silvestro gave a
great bound as they cleared the gate, and she saw before her the
straight white road with its border of silver stems and the spreading
tent-roof of golden green. These stems were so obviously li