om their
midst, thus ridding the tribe of a useless member and retaining
Borachio's child. It was Corcovita, the mother of the poor heart-broken
creature, who was the strongest advocate of this shameful outrage.

"We shall leave here to-morrow to go to Avignon," said she. "We must
obtain possession of the child and then find an opportunity to abandon
Tiepoletta on the road."

This plan gave general satisfaction, and Corcovita was charged with its
execution. Tiepoletta had heard enough. Wild with terror she endeavored
to devise some means of escape from this new peril, and during the long
watches of the night she finally resolved to flee with her child. The
next morning at day-break the little band was on its way. A seat in the
carriage was offered to Tiepoletta. She accepted it, knowing she must
save all her strength if she would carry her plan into successful
execution.

After a long march, they paused at nightfall to encamp near Avignon.
Tiepoletta, a prey to the most intense anxiety, had detected the
interchange of divers signs that convinced her they were only waiting
for her to fall asleep to steal her child from her. She watched. At
eight o'clock the men had gone to stroll around the suburbs of the city;
the old women were dozing; the young people were laughing and teasing
one another, and the children were sound asleep. Tiepoletta profited by
a moment when no one was observing her to steal from the camp on
tip-toe. She proceeded perhaps a hundred paces in this way, then, seized
with sudden fright, she began to run, holding her child pressed close to
her heart; fancying she heard her mother's voice behind her, she rushed
wildly on, never pausing until she sank exhausted on the lonely road.

She had pursued her flight for more than an hour without even asking
herself where she was going, and with no thought save that of escaping
from her persecutors. She was now beyond their reach. Still she could
not dismiss her fears. Dreading pursuit, she soon resumed her journey,
turning her steps in the direction of the Pont du Gard, in the hope
that her former companions would not think of looking for her there, and
that she might find in the cave they had just deserted a little straw
upon which she could rest her weary limbs, and some fragments of food
that would keep her alive until she had decided upon her future course.
She walked all night. When she found herself near the Pont du Gard day
was breaking.

The wind wa