news."

"Will you assume all responsibility toward Nino, signorina, if I turn
so that I can see you?" I asked, as she sat down.

"I will say that I positively ordered you to do so," she answered,
gaily. "Now look, and tell me where Signor Cardegna is gone."

I looked indeed, and it was long before I looked away. The rest, the
freedom, and the happiness had done their work quickly, in spite of
all the dreadful anxiety and fatigue. The fresh, transparent colour
was in her cheeks, and her blue eyes were clear and bright. The statue
had been through the fire, and was made a living thing, beautiful, and
breathing, and real.

"Tell me," she said, the light dancing in her eyes, "where is he
gone?"

"He is gone to find the mayor of this imposing capital," I replied.
Hedwig suddenly blushed, and turned her glistening eyes away. She was
beautiful so.

"Are you very tired, signorina? I ought not to ask the question, for
you look as though you had never been tired in your life."

There is no saying what foolish speeches I might have made had not
Nino returned. He was radiant, and I anticipated that he must have
succeeded in his errand.

"Ha! Messer Cornelio, is this the way you keep watch?" he cried.

"I found him here," said Hedwig, shyly, "and he would not even glance
at me until I positively insisted upon it." Nino laughed, as he would
have laughed at most things in that moment, for sheer superfluity of
happiness.

"Signorina," he said, "would it be agreeable to you to walk for a few
minutes after your sleep? The weather is wonderfully fine, and I am
sure you owe it to the world to show the roses which rest has given
you."

Hedwig blushed softly, and I rose and went away, conceiving that I had
kept watch long enough. But Nino called after me, as he moved the
bench from the door.

"Messer Cornelio, will you not come with us? Surely you need a walk
very much, and we can ill spare your company. My lady, let me offer
you my arm."

In this manner we left the inn, a wedding procession which could not
have been much smaller, and the singing of an old woman, who sat with
her distaff in front of her house, was the wedding march. Nino seemed
in no great haste, I thought, and I let them walk as they would, while
I kept soberly in the middle of the road, a little way behind.

It was not far that we had to go, however, and soon we came to a large
brick house, with an uncommonly small door, over which hung a wooden
shield