ort, which last would only have
added to the embarrassing redness of her burning cheeks. So she made
but little progress, and still grew hotter and hotter. She heard the
roll of the big drums and the boom of the trombones through the roar of
voices and laughter all round her. She saw the campanile of the town
hall and the clapper that hung below the great bell, and these last
objects were all she could discern above the billows of living humanity
that surged about and over her. Her father's suffering visage warned
her how flurried and unpresentable she must be growing, and the poor
little thing began to cry.

But Luigi had also been one of the first to find his way to the
neighbourhood of the bandstand, and as the square in front of the
guildhall of the little town was by no means extensive, it came about
in due course that these two, who were seeking one another through the
eddying mass of spectators, at last stood face to face. He glanced at
her, and saw the deep blush and smile that shone through her tears. The
blush he took for one of joy, the tears he thought were those of
sympathy with his trouble, and the smile he welcomed as an earnest of
what was to come. To her father in his distress and anxiety Luigi
seemed like a guardian angel, and he called to him hastily, "Help us to
get out of this, Luigi;" and Luigi applied himself to the task with
vigour. It was a matter of some difficulty, and once or twice both
Amanda and her father were in actual danger, so that the young man felt
that he was acting quite an heroic part. With arms and shoulders at
work he protected them, and with his eyes fixed on Amanda's he hung on
her long, timid gaze. But he spoke no word, so he had not violated his
promise. The consciousness of all this gave him a proud satisfaction.
His bearing might well be noble, and he knew from the approving
reflection in Amanda's eyes that in fact it did seem so to her.

But happiness in this world is doomed to be transient. A quarter of an
hour previously Giuseppe Mansana had marked Luigi in the crowd, and
with the instinct of jealousy he had been watching him from a
distance--an easy enough matter for one of his height. The other, in
his restless search, had constantly pressed forward, and thus had no
suspicion of the danger that threatened him from behind; and now he was
so deeply absorbed in his work of rescue--or rather in seeing his own
gallant image flashed back from Amanda's eyes--that he did not