y,
watching Alvina between whiles as if she were some alien creature.
Words of American sounded among the Italian dialect.

There seemed to be a confab of some sort, aside. Ciccio came and
said to her:

"They want to know if we will stay the night here."

"I would rather go on home," she said.

He averted his face at the word home.

"You see," said Pancrazio, "I think you might be more comfortable
here, than in my poor house. You see I have no woman to care for
it--"

Alvina glanced round the cave of a room, at the rough fellows in
their black hats. She was thinking how she would be "more
comfortable" here.

"I would rather go on," she said.

"Then we will get the donkey," said Pancrazio stoically. And Alvina
followed him out on to the high-road.

From a shed issued a smallish, brigand-looking fellow carrying a
lantern. He had his cloak over his nose and his hat over his eyes.
His legs were bundled with white rag, crossed and crossed with hide
straps, and he was shod in silent skin sandals.

"This is my brother Giovanni," said Pancrazio. "He is not quite
sensible." Then he broke into a loud flood of dialect.

Giovanni touched his hat to Alvina, and gave the lantern to
Pancrazio. Then he disappeared, returning in a few moments with the
ass. Ciccio came out with the baggage, and by the light of the
lantern the things were slung on either side of the ass, in a rather
precarious heap. Pancrazio tested the rope again.

"There! Go on, and I shall come in a minute."

"Ay-er-er!" cried Giovanni at the ass, striking the flank of the
beast. Then he took the leading rope and led up on the dark high-way,
stalking with his dingy white legs under his muffled cloak, leading
the ass. Alvina noticed the shuffle of his skin-sandalled feet, the
quiet step of the ass.

She walked with Ciccio near the side of the road. He carried the
lantern. The ass with its load plodded a few steps ahead. There were
trees on the road-side, and a small channel of invisible but noisy
water. Big rocks jutted sometimes. It was freezing, the mountain
high-road was congealed. High stars flashed overhead.

"How strange it is!" said Alvina to Ciccio. "Are you glad you have
come home?"

"It isn't my home," he replied, as if the word fretted him. "Yes, I
like to see it again. But it isn't the place for young people to
live in. You will see how you like it."

She wondered at his uneasiness. It was the same in Pancrazio. The
latter now came r