that
young woman herself coming up the glen.

"Holloa!" I said, with great presence of mind, as she drew near, "my
lovely model, I declare! Just you ride on, old fellow, while I stop and
ask her when she can come and sit to me again."

"You artists are sad rogues; what chances your profession must give
you!" remarked my companion, as he cast an admiring glance on Valeria
and rode discreetly on.

"There is nothing to be afraid of, lovely Valeria," I said, in a low
tone, as I lingered behind; "be sure I will never betray either your or
your rascally--hem! I mean your excellent Croppo. By the by, was that
man much hurt that I was obliged to trip up?"

"Hurt! Santa Maria! he is dead, with a bullet through his heart. Croppo
says it must have been magic, for he had searched you and he knew you
were not armed, and he was within a hundred yards of you when poor Pippo
fell, and he heard no sound."

"Croppo is not far wrong," I said, glad of the opportunity thus offered
of imposing on the ignorance and credulity of the natives. "He seemed
surprised that he could not frighten me the other night. Tell him he was
much more in my power than I was in his, dear Valeria," I added, looking
tenderly into his eyes. "I didn't want to alarm you; that was the reason
I let him off so easily; but I may not be so merciful next time. Now,
sweetest, that kiss you owe me, and which the wall prevented your giving
me the other night." She held up her face with the innocence of a child
as I stooped from my saddle.

"I shall never see you again, Signor Inglese," she said, with a sigh;
"for Croppo says it is not safe, after what happened the night before
last, to stay another hour. Indeed, he went off yesterday, leaving me
orders to follow to-day; but I went first to put your sketch-book under
the bush where the donkey fell, and where you will find it."

It took us another minute or two to part after this; and when I had
ridden away I turned to look back, and there was Valeria gazing after
me. "Positively," I reflected, "I am over head and ears in love with the
girl, and I believe she is with me. I ought to have nipped my feelings
in the bud when she told me she was his wife; but then he is a brigand,
who threatened both my ears and my tongue, to say nothing of my life.
To what extent is the domestic happiness of such a ruffian to be
respected?" And I went on splitting the moral straws suggested by this
train of thought until I had recovered my