vey the most subtle shades of emotion. He seemed ten or twelve years
of age, but might have been much older.

As soon as the American had returned to the path the boy came toward him
in an eager, excited way, and exclaimed:

"Is it not Signor Merrick?"

The English was fluent, and only rendered softer by the foreign
intonation.

"It is," said Uncle John, cheerfully. "Where did you drop from, my lad?
I thought these hills were deserted, until now."

"I am sent by a friend," answered the boy, speaking rapidly and
regarding the man with appealing glances. "He is in much trouble,
signore, and asks your aid."

"A friend? Who is it?"

"The name he gave me is Ferralti, signore. He is near to this place, in
the hills yonder, and unable to return to the town without assistance."

"Ferralti. H-m-m. Is he hurt?"

"Badly, signore; from a fall on the rocks."

"And he sent for me?"

"Yes, signore. I know you by sight--who does not?--and as I hurried
along I saw you standing on the rock. It is most fortunate. Will you
hasten to your friend, then? I will lead you to him."

Uncle John hesitated. He ought to be getting home, instead of
penetrating still farther into these rocky fastnesses. And Ferralti was
no especial friend, to claim his assistance. But then the thought
occurred that this young Italian had befriended both him and his nieces
in an extremity, and was therefore entitled to consideration when
trouble in turn overtook himself. The natural impulse of this thought
was to go to his assistance.

"All right, my lad," said he. "Lead on, and I'll see what can be done
for Ferralti. Is it far?"

"Not far, signore."

With nervous, impatient steps the child started up the narrow path and
Uncle John followed--not slowly, but scarcely fast enough to satisfy his
zealous guide.

"What is your name, little one?"

"Tato, signore."

"Where do you live?"

"Near by, signore."

"And how did you happen to find Ferralti?"

"By chance, signore."

Uncle John saved his remaining breath for the climb. He could ask
questions afterward.

The path was in a crevasse where the rocks seemed once to have split. It
was narrow and steep, and before long ended in a _cul de sac_. The
little man thought they had reached their destination, then; but without
hesitation the boy climbed over a boulder and dropped into another path
on the opposite side, holding out a hand to assist the American.

Uncle John laughed at the necessity, b