"What is it?"

"I haven't got the mule under my pillow, you know, papa."

"No, no, dear, but now go to sleep."

"Yes, papa, I am going to sleep."

Once more she was silent for a moment and then said--

"Is mamma in bed, papa?"

"No, dear."

"Why not?"

"Because she is making little shoes for you."

"Shall I wear shoes in heaven also, like great grandfather?"

"Hush! Go to sleep."

"Tell me a story, papa."

He tried, but he had neither Luisa's imagination nor her skill, and soon
came to a stand-still. "Oh, papa!" said Maria, in a compassionate tone,
"you don't know how to tell stories."

This was humiliating. "Listen, listen!" he answered, and began reciting
a ballad by Carrer, always going back to the beginning after the first
four lines, which were all he knew of it, his expression becoming ever
more mysterious, his voice ever fainter, until it was only an
inarticulate murmur, and thus at last Signorina Missipipi, lulled by the
rhythm of the lines, passed with them into the world of dreams. When he
heard her sleeping peacefully it seemed to him he was so cruel to leave
her, he felt himself such a traitor, that he wavered in his resolve. He
at once controlled himself, however.

The sweet dialogue with the child had greatly soothed him and raised his
spirits. He began to be conscious of an imperative duty towards his wife
which would henceforth be incumbent upon him. He must show himself a
man, both in will and in deed, and this at the cost of any sacrifice. He
must defend his faith against her by his works, by leaving home, by
labour and suffering; and then--and then--if Almighty God should see
fit to allow the cannon to roar for Italy, he must push ever to the
front; and let the Austrian ball come, if it but teach her to weep and
pray at last!

He remembered that he had not said his evening prayers. Poor Franco, he
had never been able to say them in bed without dropping off to sleep
before they were half finished. Feeling comparatively calm, and
reflecting that it might perhaps be some time before Luisa came to bed,
he feared he should go to sleep, and what would she say if she found him
sleeping? He rose very softly and said his prayers; then he lighted the
candle and sat down at the writing-desk, intending to read, but
presently he fell asleep in his chair.

* * * * *

He was aroused by the beat of Veronica's wooden shoes on the stairs.
Luisa was not yet come. So