better comrade. But what I do, I must do alone."
He broke from the man's entreaties and conjurations, and went up through the tangled thickets of arbutus and through the fields of millet rapidly, and never looking back; every moment was so precious.
The físherman stood watching him sadly.
"It is she," he said. "It is so with them all! She is a sorceress. I am glad I crossed myself whenever I met her, though old Bice calls her an angel, because she promised Fanciulla a dower. I am glad I crossed myself!"
A league brought him to Antina—a league that lay through olive-grounds, and green fields of maize, and vineyards. and sunburnt grass-land, which his slashing stride, that was the walk of the mountaineer, covered rapidly. To anything like fatigue he was insensible. Since the hour when she had found him in the pine-woods his life had been spent in one vain pursuit—the search for Idalia; yet never had he sought her as he sought her now.
He passed into the villa grounds: nearer the building he dared not venture; it would be occupied, in all likelihood, also by soldiers, and the sight of a fisherman loitering so far inland would of itself excite suspicion. But towards the entrance
