ving on these poor Bavarelli, and, for aught I
knew, paying them not a penny. The good farmer might be grateful to
his priest-brother down yonder; but even if his gratitude were
inexhaustible we--strangers as we were--ought not to test it so.
To be sure, he and his wife wore a smile for us, morning and
evening--and this, though I had a notion that Donna Battestina was of
a saving disposition. I had heard the pair of them protest when the
Princess offered to make herself useful in the farm-work--for which
she was plainly unfit--or, failing that, in the housework. They had
made up their minds about us, that we were persons of gentle blood,
to whom all work must be derogatory.

The next day I insisted on climbing the slope to the pine-wood
without support of her arm.

"It is time," said I, "that I grew strong; unless somewhere you are
hiding a fairy purse."

She looked at me--for between us, by this time, one spoken word would
be the key to a dozen unspoken. "You are not fit to start," she
stammered hastily, "nor will be for a long while. There are
mountains behind these, and again more mountains--" She broke off
and sat down upon a pine-log, trembling.

"I was not thinking of that," said I; "but of these people and their
hospitality. Since we have no money I must work for them--at least,
until I can get money sent from England."

She glanced at me again, and with a shiver up at the snow peaks
beyond the pines. I could read that she struggled with something,
deep within her, and I waited. By-and-by she leaned forward, clasped
her hands about her knee, and sat silent for a long minute, gazing
southward over the plain at our feet.

"Listen," she said at length, but without turning her eyes. "I have
something to confess to you." Her voice dragged upon the words; but
she went on, "You have not asked me what has happened in Genoa
after--that night. The snow covered up our footmarks and the
blood--for you were bleeding all the way; but at our lodgings the
actors were frightened out of their wits, and worse than ever when I
told them what had happened to Marc'antonio and Stephanu. They would
all be arrested, they declared; the Bank of Genoa had eyes all over
the city. Nevertheless one of them showed great courage. It was
that strange friend of yours, Messer' Badcock. My first thought was
to get you down to the boat and slip away to sea; and he offered--he
alone--first of all to make his way to the harbour