elf in the road driving a small flock of goats, whose
he knew not, nor whence he got them. Sitting down by the roadside, he
buried his head in his hands. "What has happened to my memory?" he said.
"I must be ill of a fever!" As he sat there, the goats, of their own
accord, turned and trotted back into a corral near by, the owner of
which stood, laughing, on his doorsill; and when Alessandro came up,
said goodnaturedly, "All right, Alessandro! I saw you driving off my
goats, but I thought you'd bring 'em back."

Everybody in the valley knew him, and knew his condition. It did not
interfere with his capacity as a worker, for the greater part of
the time. He was one of the best shearers in the region, the best
horse-breaker; and his services were always in demand, spite of the risk
there was of his having at any time one of these attacks of wandering.
His absences were a great grief to Ramona, not only from the loneliness
in which it left her, but from the anxiety she felt lest his mental
disorder might at any time take a more violent and dangerous shape. This
anxiety was all the more harrowing because she must keep it locked in
her own breast, her wise and loving instinct telling her that nothing
could be more fatal to him than the knowledge of his real condition.
More than once he reached home, breathless, panting, the sweat rolling
off his face, crying aloud, "The Americans have found us out, Majella!
They were on the trail! I baffled them. I came up another way." At such
times she would soothe him like a child; persuade him to lie down and
rest; and when he waked and wondered why he was so tired, she would say,
"You were all out of breath when you came in, dear. You must not climb
so fast; it is foolish to tire one's self so."

In these days Ramona began to think earnestly of Felipe. She believed
Alessandro might be cured. A wise doctor could surely do something for
him. If Felipe knew what sore straits she was in, Felipe would help her.
But how could she reach Felipe without the Senora's knowing it? And,
still more, how could she send a letter to Felipe without Alessandro's
knowing what she had written? Ramona was as helpless in her freedom on
this mountain eyrie as if she had been chained hand and foot.

And so the winter wore away, and the spring. What wheat grew in their
fields in this upper air! Wild oats, too, in every nook and corner.
The goats frisked and fattened, and their hair grew long and silky; the
shee