enigmatical object they were in search
of.

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Note 1. A votive image of Lorenzo, in wax, hung up in the Church of the
Annunziata, supposed to have fallen at the time of his death. _Boto_ is
popular Tuscan for _Voto_.

Note 2. The phrase used to express the absence of disqualification--
i.e., the not being entered as a debtor in the public book--_specchio_.

CHAPTER TWO.

BREAKFAST FOR LOVE.

After Bratti had joined the knot of talkers, the young stranger,
hopeless of learning what was the cause of the general agitation, and
not much caring to know what was probably of little interest to any but
born Florentines, soon became tired of waiting for Bratti's escort; and
chose to stroll round the piazza, looking out for some vendor of
eatables who might happen to have less than the average curiosity about
public news. But as if at the suggestion of a sudden thought, he thrust
his hand into a purse or wallet that hung at his waist, and explored it
again and again with a look of frustration.

"Not an obolus, by Jupiter!" he murmured, in a language which was not
Tuscan or even Italian. "I thought I had one poor piece left. I must
get my breakfast for love, then!"

He had not gone many steps farther before it seemed likely that he had
found a quarter of the market where that medium of exchange might not be
rejected.

In a corner, away from any group of talkers, two mules were standing,
well adorned with red tassels and collars. One of them carried wooden
milk-vessels, the other a pair of panniers filled with herbs and salads.
Resting her elbow on the neck of the mule that carried the milk, there
leaned a young girl, apparently not more than sixteen, with a red hood
surrounding her face, which was all the more baby-like in its prettiness
from the entire concealment of her hair. The poor child, perhaps, was
weary after her labour in the morning twilight in preparation for her
walk to market from some castello three or four miles off, for she
seemed to have gone to sleep in that half-standing, half-leaning
posture. Nevertheless, our stranger had no compunction in awaking her;
but the means he chose were so gentle, that it seemed to the damsel in
her dream as if a little sprig of thyme had touched her lips while she
was stooping to gather the herbs. The dream was broken, however, for
she opened her blue baby-eyes, and started up with asto