ing to you."

"Go on! Rag me as much as you like. I don't care," declared Dulcie
sturdily. "I think I had far the best of it. You were all awake and
scared, while I was snug and comfy. I shall sleep through the next if we
have one. Ashamed of myself? Not a bit of it! I tell you I'm _proud_."

Everybody was looking forward to a day's sight-seeing in Palermo, and as
soon as breakfast was over the party started out to view the cathedral,
the beautiful Palatine chapel, with its Saracen arches and priceless
mosaics, and the ancient oriental-looking Norman church of S. Giovanni
degli Eremite. Dulcie, who had been learning Longfellow's _Robert of
Sicily_ for her last recitation in the elocution class at school, was
much thrilled, and wanted to know in which of the churches he had made
his famous defiance of Heaven, and had been turned from his throne by
the angel, who temporarily took his place as king till he repented of
his vain glory. Nobody could tell her, however, and the guide-book gave
no information on the subject, though Douglas obligingly searched its
pages. Knowing she loved old legends about the places, he found another
item of interest for her in connection with one of the ancient towers of
S. Giovanni degli Eremite. It was from there that in the Middle Ages,
when the French ruled the island, a vesper bell had tolled the signal
for the inhabitants to rise and fall upon their cruel masters in a
massacre that was known ever afterwards as "The Sicilian Vespers."

"Bells have never been rung in Sicily since," said Douglas, then as
Dulcie's eyebrows went up in amazed contradiction he explained: "They
are never really _rung_ here. In most countries the bells swing
backwards and forwards, but in our churches they are quite steady, and
only the clapper moves about inside the bell."

"Oh, that's why they sound so frightfully clangy, then; we noticed the
difference at once when we came over from Malta."

"Yes, you would. The church bells of Malta are the most beautiful in the
world. They're partly made of silver, and they swing properly in the
belfries."

"I love to see really Sicilian things."

"Then you shall," put in Signor Trapani. "We'll try and show you the
local color of Palermo to-day."

"Oh, please do! I like to watch how the people live."

In order to keep his promise to Dulcie, Signor Trapani took his guests
to have lunch at a restaurant near the harbor, where, instead of the
usual French menu which obt