ed a bleeding
elbow.

'N--no, not dangerously--but I think perhaps Tony is.'

Tony however was at least able to run, as he was again on his feet and
after the donkey. Captain Coroloni and her father helped Constance to her
feet while Lieutenant di Ferara recovered a side-comb and the white sun
hat. They all climbed down together to the path below, none the worse for
the averted tragedy. Tony rejoined them somewhat short of breath, but
leading a humbled Fidilini. Constance, beyond a brief glance, said
nothing; but her father, to the poor man's intense embarrassment, shook
him warmly by the hand with the repeated assurance that his bravery
should not go unrewarded.

They completed their journey on foot; Tony following behind, quite
conscious that, if he had played the part of hero, he had done it with a
lamentable lack of grace.

CHAPTER VI

Tony was stretched on the parapet that bordered the stone-paved platform
of the fortress. Above him the crumbling tower rose many feet higher,
below him a marvellous view stretched invitingly; but Tony had eyes
neither for mediaeval architecture nor picturesque scenery. He lay with
his coat doubled under his head for a pillow, in a frowning contemplation
of the cracked stone pavement.

The four other men, after an hour or so of easy lounging under the pines
at the base of the tower, had organized a fresh expedition to the summit
a mile farther up. Mr. Wilder, since morning, had developed into an
enthusiastic mountain-climber--regret might come with the morrow, but as
yet ambition still burned high. The remainder of the party were less
energetic. The three ladies were resting on rugs spread under the pines;
Beppo was sleeping in the sun, his hat over his face, and the donkeys,
securely tethered (Tony had attended to that), were innocently nibbling
mountain herbs. There was no obvious reason why, as he lighted a
cigarette and stretched himself on the parapet, Tony should not have
been the most self-satisfied guide in the world. He had not only
completed the expedition in safety, but had saved the heroine's life by
the way; and even if the heroine did not appear as thankful as she might,
still, her father had shown due gratitude, and, what was to the point,
had promised a reward. That should have been enough for any reasonable
donkey driver.

But it was distinctly not enough for Tony. He was in a fine temper as he
lay on the parapet and scowled at the pavement. Nothing w