Tito still wore the armour, for now at
last his fainting hope would have been contented with a successful stab
on this side the grave; but he would never risk his precious knife
again. It was a weary time he had had to wait for the chance of
answering this question by touching Tito's back in the press of the
street. Since then, the knowledge that the sharp steel was useless, and
that he had no hope but in some new device, had fallen with leaden
weight on his enfeebled mind. A dim vision of winning one of those two
wives to aid him came before him continually, and continually slid away.
The wife who had lived on the hill was no longer there. If he could
find her again, he might grasp some thread of a project, and work his
way to more clearness.

And this morning he had succeeded. He was quite certain now where this
wife lived, and as he walked, bent a little under his burden of yarn,
yet keeping the green and white figure in sight, his mind was dwelling
upon her and her circumstances as feeble eyes dwell on lines and
colours, trying to interpret them into consistent significance.

Tessa had to pass through various long streets without seeing any other
sign of the Carnival than unusual groups of the country people in their
best garments, and that disposition in everybody to chat and loiter
which marks the early hours of a holiday, before the spectacle has
begun. Presently, in her disappointed search for remarkable objects,
her eyes fell on a man with a pedlar's basket before him, who seemed to
be selling nothing but little red crosses to all the passengers. A
little red cross would be pretty to hang up over her bed; it would also
help to keep off harm, and would perhaps make Ninna stronger. Tessa
went to the other side of the street that she might ask the pedlar the
price of the crosses, fearing that they would cost a little too much for
her to spare from her purchase of sweets. The pedlar's back had been
turned towards her hitherto, but when she came near him she recognised
an old acquaintance of the Mercato, Bratti Ferravecchi, and, accustomed
to feel that she was to avoid old acquaintances, she turned away again
and passed to the other side of the street. But Bratti's eye was too
well practised in looking out at the corner after possible customers,
for her movement to have escaped him, and she was presently arrested by
a tap on the arm from one of the red crosses.

"Young woman," said Bratti, as she unwilli