nd give you up to the carabinieri.'

'I'll not quit the good blade so long as I can wear it,' said he
resolutely; and then added to himself, 'I am nobly born, and have a
right to a sword. "Cinctus gladio," says the old statute of knighthood;
and if I be a Geraldine, I am noble!'

And with these words the boy bade his last farewell, and issued from the
house.

CHAPTER XII. A FOREST SCENE

Once more did Gerald find himself alone and penniless upon the world. He
was not, however, as when first he issued forth, timid, depressed, and
diffident. Short as had been the interval since that time, his mind had
made a considerable progress. His various readings had taught him much;
and he had already learned that in the Mutual Assurance Company we call
Life men are ever more or less dependent on their fellows. 'There must,
then,' said he to himself, 'be surely some craft or calling to which I
can bring skill or aptitude, and some one or other will certainly accept
of services that only require the very humblest recognition.' He walked
for hours without seeing a living thing: the barren mountain had not
even a sheep-walk; and save the path worn by the track of smugglers,
there was nothing to show that the foot of man had ever traversed its
dreary solitudes. At last he gained the summit of the ridge, and could
see the long line of coast to the westward, jagged and indented with
many a bay and promontory. There lay St. Stephano: he could recognise it
by the light cloud of pale blue smoke that floated over the valley, and
marked where the town stood; and, beyond, he could catch the masts and
yards of a few small craft that were sheltering in the offing. Beyond
these again stretched the wide blue sea, marked at the horizon by some
far-away sails. The whole was wrapped in that solemn calm, so striking
in the noon of an Italian summer's day. Not a cloud moved, not a leaf
was stirring; a faint foam-line on the beach told that there the waves
crept softly in, but, except this, all nature was at rest.

In the dead stillness of night our thoughts turn inward, and we mingle
memories with our present reveries; but in the stillness of noonday,
when great shadows lie motionless on the hillside, and all is hushed
save the low murmur of the laden bee, our minds take the wide range of
the world--visiting many lands--mingling with strange people. Action,
rather than reflection, engages us; and we combine, and change, and
fashion the mighty