rook.

As Esperance came in sight of the little stream, he nearly stumbled over
a peasant, lying at full length beneath the spreading branches of an
aged willow. The stranger was reading a book, and Esperance was amazed
to notice that it was "Caesar's Commentaries." He uttered an apology for
his awkwardness, but the peasant only smiled and, in a gentle voice,
begged pardon for being in the way. That voice! Esperance was certain
he had heard it before, but where or when he could not recall, though
it thrilled him to the very marrow of his bones, filling him with vague
apprehensions. The man's face, too, was familiar, as also was his
attire; but there was great similarity between the Italian peasants in
the vicinity of Rome in general looks and dress; it was quite likely
that he had not seen this man before, but some other resembling him;
still, the voice and face troubled Esperance, and he decided to question
the peasant; the rarity of strangers' visits to this sequestered
locality would be a sufficient pretext for his curiosity.

"My friend," said he, addressing the recumbent reader, who had resumed
his book, "are you a relative or acquaintance of the Solaras?"

"I am neither," replied the man, carelessly, glancing up from his volume
and allowing his penetrating eyes to rest on his questioner, "I strolled
here by chance, and this cosy nook was so inviting that I took
possession of it without a thought as to the intrusion I was
committing."

The peasant's language was refined; Esperance noted this fact and was
not a little surprised thereby; in addition, he could not understand why
the stranger should be reading "Caesar's Commentaries," a work far beyond
the range of the usual peasant intellect.

"You are committing no intrusion," said he. "Lorenzo and Annunziata, I
am sure, would be glad to welcome you. Old Pasquale is somewhat of a
savage, it is true, but luckily he does not bother himself much about
anything or anybody."

"Pasquale has arrived then?" said the man, dropping his book and
evincing a sudden interest.

"Yes; he is in the cabin now," answered Esperance, his astonishment
increasing. "Do you want to speak with him?"

"No," said the peasant, lightly springing to his feet. He hastily closed
his book, thrust it into his belt, and, bowing to Esperance, disappeared
in the forest.

The young man looked after him for an instant; then he joined Lorenzo
and informed him of the meeting. At his first words An