tone. He divined suspicion behind
these persistent inquiries, and he knew that in case Tony were dismissed,
his own munificent pay would stop.

'Do you understand any English?' she suddenly asked.

He modestly repudiated any great knowledge. 'A word here, a word there; I
learn it in school.'

'I see!' She paused for a moment and then inquired casually, 'Have you
known Tony long?'

'_Si_, signorina.'

'How long?'

Beppo considered. Some one, clearly, must vouch for the man's
respectability. This was not in the lesson that had been taught him, but
he determined to branch out for himself.

'He is my father, signorina.'

'Really! He looks young to be your father--have you any brothers and
sisters, Beppo?'

'I have four brothers, signorina, and five sisters.' He fell back upon
the truth with relief.

'_Davvero_!'

The signorina smiled upon him, a smile of such heavenly sweetness that he
instantly joined the already crowded ranks of her admirers. She drew from
her pocket a handful of coppers and dropped them into his grimy little
palm.

'Here, Beppo, are some soldi for the brothers and sisters. I hope that
you will be good and obedient and _always_ tell me the truth.'

CHAPTER V

After some delay--owing to Tony's inability to balance the chafing-dish
on Cristoforo Colombo's back--they filed from the gateway, an imposing
cavalcade. The ladies were on foot, loftily oblivious to the fact that
three empty saddles awaited their pleasure. Constance, a gesticulating
officer at either hand, was vivaciously talking Italian, while Tony,
trudging behind, listened with a sombre light in his eye. She now and
then cast a casual glance over her shoulder, and as she caught sight of
his gloomy face the animation of her Italian redoubled. The situation
held for her mischief-loving soul undreamed-of possibilities; and though
she ostensibly occupied herself with the officers, she by no means
neglected the donkey-man.

During the first few miles of the journey he earned his four francs.
Twice he reshifted the pack because Constance thought it insecure (it was
a disgracefully unprofessional pack; most guides would have blushed at
the making of it); once he retraced their path some two hundred yards in
search of a veil she thought she had dropped--it turned out that she had
had it in her pocket all of the time. He chased Fidilini over half the
mountainside while the others were resting, and he carried the
chafing-dish