—now laughing alone, then silent and serene. Oh! pale and wan poet of the plains, let your songs now charm the dear love of your heart and thus make the world happy and beautiful with the strength of you solemn love.
Realizing afterwards what he had done, and laughing alone, he pursued his way towards the field where Camilo was working in their hut together with his peasants.
Camilo, on beholding his friend so taciturn and flushed with unusual feelings of exhilaration, remarked:
"What ho, now, Lucio, anything new?" "Nothing—"
"Why nothing? When I see and read in your physiognomy that there is something missing or there is something doing!" He laid up his work aside and put it on the ground and faced Lucio and they sat on the bamboo bench covered with a buri mat.
"Now don't conceal it, I know it. And if I am not mistaken, it seems, that you have come across some fortune or struck a mine--and most probably you have met again that young friend of mine-Rosa-the Rose of the Village."
"What the devil's keen mind you have!" Lucio exclaimed. "True... Ay, Camilo, that is true-and you, dearest of friends, I saw her-yes, I saw her in her glory-but quiet!-breathe you not a word to any-
