talking to him to-night. Wait till morning."

"Till morning!" A groan escaped from Alessandro, in spite of himself. "I
can't!" he cried. "I must go on to-night."

"Why, what for?" exclaimed Mrs. Hartsel, much astonished. For one brief
second Alessandro revolved in his mind the idea of confiding everything
to her; only for a second, however. No; the fewer knew his secret and
Ramona's, the better.

"I must be in San Diego to-morrow," he said.

"Got work there?" she said.

"Yes; that is, in San Pasquale," he said; "and I ought to have been
there three days ago."

Mrs. Hartsel mused. "Jim can't do anything to-night," she said; "that's
certain. You might see the man yourself, and ask him if he'd buy it."

Alessandro shook his head. An invincible repugnance withheld him.
He could not face one of these Americans who were "coming in" to his
valley. Mrs. Hartsel understood.

"I'll tell you, Alessandro," said the kindly woman, "I'll give you what
money you need to-night, and then, if you say so, Jim'll sell the violin
to-morrow, if the man wants it, and you can pay me back out of that, and
when you're along this way again you can have the rest. Jim'll make as
good a trade for you's he can. He's a real good friend to all of you,
Alessandro, when he's himself."

"I know it, Mrs. Hartsel. I'd trust Mr. Hartsel more than any other man
in this country," said Alessandro. "He's about the only white man I do
trust!"

Mrs. Hartsel was fumbling in a deep pocket in her under-petticoat.
Gold-piece after gold-piece she drew out. "Humph! Got more'n I thought
I had," she said. "I've kept all that's been paid in here to-day, for I
knew Jim'd be drunk before night."

Alessandro's eyes fastened on the gold. How he longed for an abundance
of those little shining pieces for his Majella! He sighed as Mrs.
Hartsel counted them out on the table,--one, two, three, four, bright
five-dollar pieces.

"That is as much as I dare take," said Alessandro, when she put down
the fourth. "Will you trust me for so much?" he added sadly. "You know I
have nothing left now. Mrs. Hartsel, I am only a beggar, till I get some
work to do."

The tears came into Mrs. Hartsel's eyes. "It's a shame!" she said,--"a
shame, Alessandro! Jim and I haven't thought of anything else, since it
happened. Jim says they'll never prosper, never. Trust you? Yes, indeed.
Jim and I'd trust you, or your father, the last day of our lives."

"I'm glad he is dead," said Alessan