brazier, in
which charcoal and ashes smouldered. Men were drinking. Ciccio
ordered coffee with rum--and the hard-faced Grazia, in her unfresh
head-dress, dabbled the little dirty coffee-cups in dirty water,
took the coffee-pot out of the ashes, poured in the old black
boiling coffee three parts full, and slopped the cup over with rum.
Then she dashed in a spoonful of sugar, to add to the pool in the
saucer, and her customers were served.

However, Ciccio drank up, so Alvina did likewise, burning her lips
smartly. Ciccio paid and ducked his way out.

"Now what will you buy?" asked Pancrazio.

"Buy?" said Ciccio.

"Food," said Pancrazio. "Have you brought food?"

"No," said Ciccio.

So they trailed up stony dark ways to a butcher, and got a big red
slice of meat; to a baker, and got enormous flat loaves. Sugar and
coffee they bought. And Pancrazio lamented in his elegant English
that no butter was to be obtained. Everywhere the hard-faced women
came and stared into Alvina's face, asking questions. And both
Ciccio and Pancrazio answered rather coldly, with some _hauteur_.
There was evidently not too much intimacy between the people of
Pescocalascio and these semi-townfolk of Ossona. Alvina felt as if
she were in a strange, hostile country, in the darkness of the
savage little mountain town.

At last they were ready. They mounted into a two-wheeled cart,
Alvina and Ciccio behind, Pancrazio and the driver in front, the
luggage promiscuous. The bigger things were left for the morrow. It
was icy cold, with a flashing darkness. The moon would not rise till
later.

And so, without any light but that of the stars, the cart went
spanking and rattling downhill, down the pale road which wound down
the head of the valley to the gulf of darkness below. Down in the
darkness into the darkness they rattled, wildly, and without heed,
the young driver making strange noises to his dim horse, cracking a
whip and asking endless questions of Pancrazio.

Alvina sat close to Ciccio. He remained almost impassive. The wind
was cold, the stars flashed. And they rattled down the rough, broad
road under the rocks, down and down in the darkness. Ciccio sat
crouching forwards, staring ahead. Alvina was aware of mountains,
rocks, and stars.

"I didn't know it was so _wild_!" she said.

"It is not much," he said. There was a sad, plangent note in his
voice. He put his hand upon her.

"You don't like it?" he said.

"I think it's lovely