heir horses moved prevented all conversation, but when the hills
grew so steep that they were obliged to go at a foot's pace, they
began to exchange a few words about the friends from whom they had just
parted. Colomba spoke with admiration of Miss Nevil's beauty, of her
golden hair, and charming ways. Then she asked whether the colonel
was really as rich as he appeared, and whether Miss Lydia was his only
child.

"She would be a good match," said she. "Her father seems to have a great
liking for you----"

And as Orso made no response, she added: "Our family was rich, in days
gone by. It is still one of the most respected in the island. All these
_signori_ about us are bastards. The only noble blood left is in the
families of the corporals, and as you know, Orso, your ancestors were
the chief corporals in the island. You know our family came from beyond
the hills, and it was the civil wars that forced us over to this side.
If I were you, Orso, I shouldn't hesitate--I should ask Colonel Nevil
for his daughter's hand." Orso shrugged his shoulders. "With her
fortune, you might buy the Falsetta woods, and the vineyards below ours.
I would build a fine stone house, and add a story to the old tower in
which Sambucuccio killed so many Moors in the days of Count Henry, _il
bel Missere_."

"Colomba, you're talking nonsense," said Orso, cantering forward.

"You are a man, Ors' Anton', and of course you know what you ought to
do better than any woman. But I should very much like to know what
objection that Englishman could have to the marriage. Are there any
corporals in England?"

After a somewhat lengthy ride, spent in talking in this fashion, the
brother and sister reached a little village, not far from Bocognano,
where they halted to dine and sleep at a friend's house. They were
welcomed with a hospitality which must be experienced before it can be
appreciated. The next morning, their host, who had stood godfather to a
child to whom Madame della Rebbia had been godmother, accompanied them a
league beyond his house.

"Do you see those woods and thickets?" said he to Orso, just as they
were parting. "A man who had met with a misfortune might live there
peacefully for ten years, and no gendarme or soldier would ever come to
look for him. The woods run into the Vizzavona forest, and anybody who
had friends at Bocognano or in the neighbourhood would want for nothing.
That's a good gun you have there. It must carry a long way