k anywhere rather than here."

"Why?" asked Giovanni, carelessly. "It is a very good road."

"I should think that our Roman Campagna would be anything but a source of
satisfaction to its possessors--like yourself," answered Del Ferice.

"It is a very good grazing ground."

"It might be something better. When one thinks that in ancient times it
was a vast series of villas--"

"The conditions were very different. We do not live in ancient times,"
returned Giovanni, drily.

"Ah, the conditions!" ejaculated Del Ferice, with a suave sigh. "Surely
the conditions depend on man--not on nature. What our proud forefathers
accomplished by law and energy, we could, we can accomplish, if we
restore law and energy in our midst."

"You are entirely mistaken," answered Saracinesca. "It would take five
times the energy of the ancient Romans to turn the Campagna into a
garden, or even into a fertile productive region. No one is five times as
energetic as the ancients. As for the laws, they do well enough."

Del Ferice was delighted. For the first time, Giovanni seemed inclined to
enter upon an argument with him.

"Why are the conditions so different? I do not see. Here is the same
undulating country, the same climate--"

"And twice as much water," interrupted Giovanni. "You forget that the
Campagna is very low, and that the rivers in it have risen very much.
There are parts of ancient Rome now laid bare which lie below the present
water-mark of the Tiber. If the city were built upon its old level, much
of it would be constantly flooded. The rivers have risen and have swamped
the country. Do you think any amount of law or energy could drain this
fever-stricken plain into the sea? I do not. Do you think that if I could
be persuaded that the land could be improved into fertility I would
hesitate, at any expenditure in my power, to reclaim the miles of desert
my father and I own here? The plain is a series of swamps and stone
quarries. In one place you find the rock a foot below the surface, and
the soil burns up in summer; a hundred yards farther you find a bog
hundreds of feet deep, which even in summer is never dry."

"But," suggested Del Ferice, who listened patiently enough, "supposing
the Government passed a law forcing all of you proprietors to plant trees
and dig ditches, it would have some effect."

"The law cannot force us to sacrifice men's lives. The Trappist monks at
the Tre Fontane are trying it, and dying by score