ta. "I wish only water. It is a
long way from Civitella, and there is no good spring. There is the brook
that runs out of the pond at the foot of the last hill. But it is heavy
water, full of stuff."

Serafina came back, bringing two heavy tumblers of pressed glass on a
little black japanned tray, with a decanter of cold water. In her other
hand she carried two bottles, one half full of wine, the other
containing the white and sugary syrup of peach kernels of which Italians
are so fond.

"I brought this also," she said, holding up the bottle as she set down
the tray. "Perhaps it is better."

"Yes," said Sor Tommaso, nodding in approbation. "It is better."

"You will drink a little orgeat?" asked the old woman, in a tone of
persuasion, and mixing it in the glass.

"Water, simply water," said Annetta, who was still suspicious. "Give me
water in the other glass."

"But I have mixed already in both," answered Serafina. "Eh, you will
drink it. You will not make an old woman like me go all the way down the
stairs again. But then, it is good. It is I that tell you. I made it
myself, yesterday morning, for the doctor, to refresh his blood a
little."

Annetta had risen to her feet and was watching the glasses, as the old
woman stirred the white syrup in the water with an old-fashioned,
long-handled spoon. She did not wish to seem absurdly suspicious, and
yet she distrusted her enemy. She took one of the glasses, went to his
side, and held it to his lips as one gives an invalid drink.

"After you," he said, with a polite smile, but raising his hand to take
the glass.

"Sick people first, well people afterwards," answered Annetta, smiling
too, but watching him intently.

He had satisfied himself that she really suspected foul play, for he
knew the peasants well, and was only a degree removed from them himself.
He at once dismissed her suspicions by drinking half the tumbler at a
draught. She immediately took the other and emptied it eagerly, as she
was really very thirsty.

"A little more?" suggested Serafina, in her croaking voice.

"No," interposed Sor Tommaso. "It might hurt her--so much at once."

But Annetta filled the tumbler with pure water, and emptied it again.

"At last!" she exclaimed with a sigh of satisfaction. "What thirst! I
seemed to have eaten ashes! And now I thank you, Sor Tommaso, and I am
going home; for it is Ave Maria, and I do not wish to make a bad meeting
in the dark as happened to you.