note
that, having the power, you use it. But two things puzzle me: of
which the first is, where shall I find my charges?"

"Marc'antonio shall fetch them down to you from the other side of the
mountain."

"And next, how shall I learn to tend them?" I asked, still keeping my
matter-of-fact tone.

"They will give you no trouble. You have but to pen them at night
and number them, and again at daybreak turn them loose. They know
this forest and prefer it to the other side: you will not find that
they wander. At night you have only to blow a horn which
Marc'antonio will bring you, and the sound of it will fetch them
home."

"A light job," said Stephanu, with a grin, "when a man can bring his
stomach to it."

"Not so light as you suppose, my friend," I answered. "The sty,
here, will need some cleansing; since if these are to be my subjects,
I must do my best for them. It may not amount to much, but at least
my hogs shall keep themselves cleaner than some Corsicans, even than
some Corsican cooks."

"Stephanu," said Marc'antonio, gravely, "the Englishman meant that
for you: and I tell you what I have told you before, that yours are
no fitly kept hands for a cook. I have travelled abroad and seen the
ways of other nations."

"The sty will need mending too, Princess," said I: "but before
nightfall I will try to have it ready."

"You will find tools in the hut," she answered, with a glance at
Marc'antonio, who nodded. "For food, you shall be kept supplied.
Stephanu has brought, in his suck yonder, flesh, cheese, and wine
sufficient for three days, with milk for your friend: and day by day
fresh milk shall be sent down to you."

Her words were commonplace, yet her cheeks wore an angry flush
beneath their sun-burn; and I knew why. Her insult had miscarried.
In accepting this humiliation I had somehow mastered her: even the
tone she used, level and matter-of-fact, she used perforce, in place
of the high scorn with which she had started to sentence me.
My spirits rose. If I could not understand this girl, neither could
she understand me. She only felt defeat, and it puzzled and angered
her.

"You have no complaint to make?" she asked, hesitating in spite of
herself as she turned to go.

I laughed, having discovered that my laugh perplexed her.

"None whatever, Princess. Am I not your hostage?"

When they were gone I laughed again, with a glance at Nat who lay
with closed eyes and white still face whe