t in a wooden bowl. These he
placed on the seat of the settle in front of the fire. Ciccio was
silent.

The settle was dark and greasy. Alvina feared for her clothes. But
she sat with her enamel plate and her impossible fork, a piece of
meat and a chunk of bread, and ate. It was difficult--but the food
was good, and the fire blazed. Only there was a film of wood-smoke
in the room, rather smarting. Ciccio sat on the settle beside her,
and ate in large mouthfuls.

"I think it's fun," said Alvina.

He looked at her with dark, haunted, gloomy eyes. She wondered what
was the matter with him.

"Don't you think it's fun?" she said, smiling.

He smiled slowly.

"You won't like it," he said.

"Why not?" she cried, in panic lest he prophesied truly.

Pancrazio scuttled in and out with the lantern. He brought wrinkled
pears, and green, round grapes, and walnuts, on a white cloth, and
presented them.

"I think my pears are still good," he said. "You must eat them, and
excuse my uncomfortable house."

Giovanni came in with a big bowl of soup and a bottle of milk. There
was room only for three on the settle before the hearth. He pushed
his chair among the litter of fire-kindling, and sat down. He had
bright, bluish eyes, and a fattish face--was a man of about fifty,
but had a simple, kindly, slightly imbecile face. All the men kept
their hats on.

The soup was from Giovanni's cottage. It was for Pancrazio and him.
But there was only one spoon. So Pancrazio ate a dozen spoonfuls,
and handed the bowl to Giovanni--who protested and tried to
refuse--but accepted, and ate ten spoonfuls, then handed the bowl
back to his brother, with the spoon. So they finished the bowl
between them. Then Pancrazio found wine--a whitish wine, not very
good, for which he apologized. And he invited Alvina to coffee.
Which she accepted gladly.

For though the fire was warm in front, behind was very cold.
Pancrazio stuck a long pointed stick down the handle of a saucepan,
and gave this utensil to Ciccio, to hold over the fire and scald the
milk, whilst he put the tin coffee-pot in the ashes. He took a long
iron tube or blow-pipe, which rested on two little feet at the far
end. This he gave to Giovanni to blow the fire.

Giovanni was a fire-worshipper. His eyes sparkled as he took the
blowing tube. He put fresh faggots behind the fire--though Pancrazio
forbade him. He arranged the burning faggots. And then softly he
blew a red-hot fire for t