e walls, relics of the castle's
decorations. At sharp corners were tiny shops with dark interiors, and
strange assortments of golden oranges, big pearly onions, ruby beets,
and bright green, peasant pottery in low-browed windows and on uneven
doorsteps. Dark Saracen eyes gleamed out of the cold shadows in
tunnelled streets, seeming to warm them with their light; and as Vanno
reached the tiny _Place_ where towered a large, old church, the pavement
was flooded by a wave of brown-faced boys and girls, laughing and
shouting. School was just out; and behind the children followed a man in
the black cassock of a priest. He was walking slowly, reading from a
little book. Vanno stood still, with eagerness and affection in his
eyes, and willed him to look up.

This man had been the Prince's tutor, after Vanno was six, until he had
passed his tenth birthday. It was years now since they had seen each
other, eight perhaps, for it must be as long ago that the cure had come
back to visit Rome. But the cheery, intelligent dark face had not
changed much, except that it was less round, and the silvering of the
once black hair had spiritualized it strangely.

The wave of children, after glances thrown at the newcomer, had ebbed
away in different directions. The little cobble-paved _Place_ became
suddenly still. The priest moved leisurely, reading his book. Then, when
he was quite near Vanno, he suddenly lifted his thick black lashes as if
a voice had called his name. His good brown eyes and sunburned face lit
up as though in a flash of sunlight.

"Principino!" he exclaimed.

Vanno grasped both his hands, book and all.

"What a happy surprise!" cried the cure, in Italian, and Vanno answered
in the same language.

"But you knew I was coming one of these days. You got my letter? And
perhaps Angelo has written?"

"Yes. He has written. I am to take the second breakfast with him and his
bride one day soon after they arrive at Cap Martin, and bless their
villa for them. You see, he too remembers the poor old friend!" and the
cure smiled, a charming smile, showing beautiful teeth, strong and white
as a boy's. "He said you would meet him, for the week of the flying men,
but that is not quite yet. And your letter said the same. I did not look
for you till some days later."

"Well, here I am," cried Vanno. "I came only yesterday afternoon, and my
first thought is for you, Father. You look just the same. It might be
months instead of years