ding. Suddenly I was disturbed by a sound of voices just
below me.

The boxwood hedge, being twice my height and fully two feet thick,
entirely screened the speakers from my sight.

There were two voices, and one of these, angry and threatening, I
recognized for that of Rinolfo--Messer Giojoso's graceless son; the
other, a fresh young feminine voice, was entirely unknown to me; indeed
it was the first girl's voice I could recall having heard in all my
eighteen years, and the sound was as pleasantly strange as it was
strangely pleasant.

I stood quite still, to listen to its expostulations.

"You are a cruel fellow, Ser Rinolfo, and Madonna the Countess shall be
told of this."

There followed a crackling of twigs and a rush of heavy feet.

"You shall have something else of which to tell Madonna's beatitude,"
threatened the harsh voice of Rinolfo.

That and his advances were answered by a frightened screech, a screech
that moved rapidly to the right as it was emitted. There came more
snapping of twigs, a light scurrying sound followed by a heavier one,
and lastly a panting of breath and a soft pattering of running feet upon
the steps that led up to the terrace where I walked.

I moved forward rapidly to the opening in the hedge where these steps
debouched, and no sooner had I appeared there than a soft, lithe body
hurtled against me so suddenly that my arms mechanically went round it,
my right hand still holding the De Civitate Dei, forefinger enclosed
within its pages to mark the place.

Two moist dark eyes looked up appealingly into mine out of a frightened
but very winsome, sun-tinted face.

"O Madonnino!" she panted. "Protect me! Save me!"

Below us, checked midway in his furious ascent, halted Rinolfo, his big
face red with anger, scowling up at me in sudden doubt and resentment.

The situation was not only extraordinary in itself, but singularly
disturbing to me. Who the girl was, or whence she came, I had no thought
or notion as I surveyed her. She would be of about my own age, or
perhaps a little younger, and from her garb it was plain that she
belonged to the peasant class. She wore a spotless bodice of white
linen, which but indifferently concealed the ripening swell of her young
breast. Her petticoat, of dark red homespun, stopped short above her
bare brown ankles, and her little feet were naked. Her brown hair, long
and abundant, was still fastened at the nape of her slim neck, but fell
loose be