e
neighbouring country. She was anxious to hurry on as quickly as
possible, lest night should overtake her party on the way, and, still
pale and tremulous, she sprang eagerly to the work of gathering up the
scattered belongings. While she and Joseph put the tea-basket to
rights, the boy and I rearranged the gorgeous fittings of the bag, and
discovered that not even a single bottle-top was missing.

"What a burden to carry on a donkey's back!" I laughed. "You are a
regular Beau Brummel."

"Why not?" pleaded the boy. "I like pretty things, and this is very
convenient. It is no trouble for Souris. When the bag is in the
_ruecksack_, no one would suspect that it is valuable. I have carried
all this luggage so, ever since Lucerne, and never had any bother
before."

"What, you too started from Lucerne?"

"Yes. I had Innocentina and the donkeys come up from the Riviera, to
meet me there. We have been a long time on the way--weeks: for we have
stopped wherever we liked, and as long as we liked. Until to-day we
haven't had a single real adventure. I was wishing for one, but
now--well, I suppose most adventures are disagreeable when they are
happening, and only turn nice afterwards, in memory."

"Like caterpillars when they become butterflies. But look here, my
young friend David, lest you meet another Goliath, I really think
you'd better put up with the proximity (I don't say society) of that
hateful animal, Man, as far as Aosta. Joseph and I will either keep a
few yards in advance, or a few yards in the rear, not to annoy you
with our detestable company, but----"

"Please don't be revengeful," entreated the ex-Brat. "You have been so
good to us, don't be un-good now. I suppose one may hate men, yet be
grateful to one man--anyhow, till one finds him out? I can't very well
find you out between here and Aosta, can I?--so we may be friends, if
you'll walk beside me, neither behind nor in front. I am excited, and
feel as if I _must_ have someone to talk to, but I am a little tired
of conversation with Innocentina. I know all she has ever thought
about since she was born."

"It's a bargain then," said I. "We're friends and comrades--until
Aosta. After that----"

"Each goes his own way," he finished my broken sentence; "as ships
pass in the night. But this little sailing boat won't forget that the
big bark came to its help, in a storm which it couldn't have weathered
alone."

"Do you know," said I, as we walked on togethe