Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




The Italian Twins, by Lucy Fitch Perkins.

________________________________________________________________________
This is a truly delightful little book, despite the sad predicament in
which the Twins find themselves.  Beppo and Beppina are twelve years old
and are the older children of the aristocratic Marchese Grifoni.  They
are taken by their family nurse to visit the cathedral in the centre of
the city of Florence, for it is Easter Saturday.  Unfortunately they
lose contact with Teresina the nurse, and set off to find their own way
back home.  But somehow they lose their way, and are wondering what
direction to take when they come across a man and woman with a
performing monkey and bear.  The woman offers to take the children home,
and they all jump up into the van, drawn by a donkey.  But when it gets
dark the children realise they have been kidnapped.

They travel on through the villages, and the children give performances
of dances the woman has taught them, and sing beautifully the songs they
have learnt previously.  In this way they earn their keep.  The woman is
determined to get back to the island-city of Venice, which is where her
family are.  After many months Beppo works out how to escape by stealing
a boat, and the children make their way due west to Padua.  By chance
their own nurse Teresina and their mother the Marchesa are in Padua to
pray to Saint Antony for his help in restoring the lost Twins to their
family.  Great are the rejoicings when Teresina finds the children.
________________________________________________________________________
THE ITALIAN TWINS, BY LUCY FITCH PERKINS.

CHAPTER ONE.

MORNING IN THE GRIFONI PALACE.

Near the banks of the river Arno, in an upper room of the beautiful old
palace of the Grifoni family, Beppina, the twelve-year-old daughter of
the Marchese, lay peacefully sleeping.  In his own room across the hall
from hers, Beppo, her twin brother, slept also, though it was already
early dawn of Easter Saturday in the city of Florence, and both children
had meant to be up before the sun, that no hour of the precious holiday
should be lost in sleep.

It was the jingle of donkey bells and the sound of laughing voices in
the street below her windows that at last roused Beppina.  Though it was
not yet light, the peasants were already pouring into the city from
outlying villages and farms, bringing their families in donkey-carts or
wagons drawn by sleek oxen, to enjoy the wonderful events which were to
take place in the city on that holy day.

Beppina opened her great dark eyes and sat up in bed to listen.  "I'm
awake before Beppo," she whispered joyfully to herself.  "I told him I
should be first.  I wonder what time it is!"

As if in answer to her question a distant clock struck five.  "Five
o'clock!" murmured Beppina, and, struggling to her knees in her great
carved bed, she dipped a dainty finger in the vase of holy water which
hung on the wall near by, and crossed herself devoutly.  Then, folding
her hands, she murmured an Ave Maria before the image of the Virgin
which stood on the little table beside her bed.  This duty done, she
slid to the floor, thrust her little white feet into a pair of blue felt
slippers, and her arms into the sleeves of a gay wrapper, then ran
across the room to the eastern windows.

As she pushed open the shutters, a gleam of sunshine flashed across the
room, lighting the dim frescoes on the high ceiling, and paling the
light of the little lamp which burned before the image of the Madonna.
A wandering breeze, fresh from the distant hills, blew in, making the
flame dance and flicker and flaunting a corner of the white counterpane
gayly in the air.

Beppina leaned her arms on the wide stone window-sill, and looked out
over Florence.  The sun had just risen above the blue crest of the
Apennines, its level rays tipping the Campanile and the great dome of
the Cathedral with light, and turning eastern window-panes into flaming
beacons.  The glowing colour of the sky was reflected in the waters of
the Arno, which flowed beneath its many bridges like a stream of molten
gold.  Pigeons wheeled and circled above the roofs, and the air was
filled with gentle croonings and the whir of wings.

For a moment Beppina stood drinking in the freshness of the lovely
spring morning, then, stepping softly to the door of her room, she
opened it cautiously and peered into the dark corridor.  She listened;
there was not a sound in the house except the gurgle of a distant snore.

"Ah, that Teresina!" murmured Beppina to herself.  "She sleeps like a
kettle boiling!  First the lid rattles, then there is a whistle like the
steam.  Why does she not put corks in her nose at night and shut the
noise up inside of her?"

She slipped silently into the hall and listened at the door of Beppo's
room.  She heard no sound, and was just on the point of turning the
knob, when the door flew open of itself and a boy with great dark eyes
like her own burst into the corridor and bumped directly into her.
Beppina backed hastily against the wall, and though the breath was
nearly knocked out of her, remembered to offer him her Easter greetings.

"Buona Pasqua, Beppo mio," she gasped.  "I was just going to wake you."

"To wake me!"  Beppo shouted derisively.  "That's a good joke.  I'm up
first, just as I said I should be!  See, I am all dressed, and you--you
have not even begun!"

Beppina laid her finger on her lips.  "Hush, Beppo!" she whispered.
"Don't roar so.  It's only five o'clock, and every one else in the house
is asleep.  Not even the maids have stirred, and as for Teresina--listen
to her!  She sleeps like the dead, though less quietly, yet she rouses
at once if the baby stirs, and if we should wake the baby at this hour,
she would be angry at us all day long."

They listened for a moment to the appalling sounds which rolled forth
from the room where Teresina, the nurse, slept.  Then Beppo said: "If
the baby can sleep through that noise, she can sleep through anything.
It sounds like a thunder-storm in the mountains."

At that moment a wicked idea popped into his head.  "I know what I'm
going to do," he whispered, grinning with delight.  "I'm going to creep
into her room like a cat and drop something into her mouth.  She sleeps
with it open, and I have a piece of soap just the right size!"

"Beppo!" gasped Beppina.  "Don't you dare!  Teresina would then refuse
to take us to the piazza, and you know very well there is no one else to
go with us, for the governess had a headache last night and went to bed
looking as yellow as saffron."

"Oh, but just think how funny Teresina would look, choking and
sputtering like a volcano pouring forth fire, smoke, and lava," chuckled
Beppo, who was studying geography and liked it much better than Beppina
did.

"If you do it you'll just have to spend Easter Saturday in the house and
miss all the fun," warned Beppina.  "Mammina would not let us go with
any of the other servants."

"I don't see why she won't let us go alone," said Beppo crossly.  "I
hate to go out on the street with Teresina all dressed up in her ruff
and streamers so people will know she's a baby nurse.  I'm big enough to
go by myself!"

Beppina looked despairingly at her brother.  "Oh, dear!" she said, "I
wish Mammina had taken us with her to the villa instead of leaving us to
go later with Teresina and the governess, when she has everything ready
for us.  I wouldn't mind missing Easter Saturday here if only we could
be up at the villa."

"Or if only our dear Babbo had not had to go away to Rome," added Beppo
gloomily.  "He would have taken us with him to see all the Easter
sights, and no thanks to Teresina either!"

"But they did go, both of them," sighed Beppina.  "So it's Teresina or
stay at home for us, and I'm sure I don't want to stay at home!"

Beppo thrust his hands into his pockets, hunched up his shoulders, and
looked so gloomy and obstinate that Beppina saw something must be done
at once.  "Oh, pazienza, Beppo mio!" she said, giving him a little
shake.  "It might be worse surely.  Come, let's go down to the garden
and feed the pigeons.  You get the crumbs while I dress."

"Hurry, then," said Beppo, brightening a little, as Beppina flung him a
butterfly kiss and ran back to her room.  She threw on her clothes in
two minutes, fastened her long black hair with a hair-pin, and appeared
again in the corridor just as Beppo returned from the kitchen with a pan
of crumbs in his hand.

The two children then quietly opened the door which led from the Grifoni
apartment into the public hall of the old palace and crept silently down
the long, dark stone stairs to the ground floor, where Pietro, the
porter, lived with his wife and six children.  Pietro opened the door of
his own apartment and stepped into the public hall just as the two dark
figures came stealthily down the last flight.  Beppo was certainly in a
mood for mischief that morning, for when he saw Pietro he crept softly
up behind him as he was buttoning the last button of his livery, and
suddenly shouted "Boom!" right in his ear!

Pietro thought it was one of his own children who had played this saucy
trick.  "Santa Maria!" he cried, wheeling about with his hands out to
catch and punish the offender.  "Come here, thou thorn in the eye!"
Then, as he saw the children of the Marchese grinning at him out of the
shadows, his hand went up in a salute instead.  "Buona Pasqua, Donna
Beppina!" he cried, "and you too, Don Beppo!  Why are you about at this
hour in the morning scaring honest people out of their wits?"

"Buona Pasqua, Pietro," laughed the Twins.  "We are going out in the
garden, and we want you to open the door for us."

No one but the gardener and the members of the Grifoni family ever went
into the garden, which lay at the back of the palace, for the tenants
who occupied other portions of the ancient building were not allowed to
use it, and the Marchese Grifoni lived in Florence only during the
winter months.  The rest of the year--and the children thought much the
best part of it--was spent in their beautiful vine-covered villa in the
hills near Padua.

Pietro selected a key from the jingling bunch which he carried at his
belt, and opened the old carved door.  It was a charming sight which
greeted their eyes as the door swung back on its rusty hinges.  The
garden was small, with a high wall all about it, over which ivy spread a
mantle of green.  In the middle of the space a fountain splashed and
bubbled, and the garden borders were gay with yellow daffodils, blue
chicory, and white Florentine lilies.  There were other delights also in
the Grifoni garden, for in the fountain lived Garibaldi, a turtle of
great age and dignity, and in the chinks of the walls were lizards which
liked nothing better than to be tickled with straws as they lay basking
in the sunshine.

The moment the children appeared, a cloud of pigeons swept down from the
neighbouring roofs and begged for food.  Beppina held a piece of bread
between her lips, and a fat pigeon with glistening purple feathers on
his breast instantly lit upon her shoulder.  He was followed by another
and another, until she flung up her arms and sent them all skyward in a
whirl of wings, only to return again a moment later to peck the morsel
from her lips.

As she was playing in this way with the pigeons, she chanced to glance
up at the windows of the porter's rooms which overlooked the garden.
There, gazing wistfully out at them, were six pairs of eyes, belonging
to Pietro's six children.  Beppina waved her hand at them.  "Come out!"
she cried gayly, and, wild with delight at such an unheard-of privilege,
the six came scrambling into the garden at once.  There the eight
children played with the pigeons in the sunshine, until in an unlucky
moment Pietro's youngest baby fell into the fountain and was rescued,
screaming with fright, by Beppina, who got her own dress quite wet in
the process.

It was at this very moment, as luck would have it, that Teresina
appeared in the doorway, her ruffled cap bristling and her hands upheld
in horror at finding the children of the Marchese Grifoni playing in the
sacred palace garden with the dirty little children of the porter's
family.

"I have been looking everywhere for you," she said with freezing
dignity.  "The priest will soon be here to bless the house, and you,
Signorina, are not half dressed, and besides, you are as wet as if you
had been swimming in the fountain!  What would the Signora say if she
could see you now?"  She glared at the six children of Pietro as she
spoke, and they instantly scuttled back into their own quarters like
mice who had seen the cat.  Then she thumped majestically upstairs.

The children prepared to follow, but all the brightness had gone out of
the morning, and they went slowly and sullenly.  Though Teresina had a
good heart, she had a sharp tongue, and the Twins had some reason for
not loving her.  It was now six months since she had first appeared
before them, carrying a little red, wrinkled baby on a pillow, and had
told them that it was their little new sister, and that now the Signora,
their mother, would love the baby much better than she loved them, and
she had laughed when she said it!  Yes, believe it or not, she had
laughed!

"Teresina is always spoiling things," said Beppo, kicking his feet
against each step as he began to climb the stairs.

"Che, che!" said Beppina, which is Italian for "tut, tut."

"After all, it is quite true that we must be ready for the priest.  What
would Mammina say if she knew we were wet and dirty when he came?"

Beppo's face broke suddenly into a beaming smile.  "I know what I'll
do!" he cried, and disappeared into the garden again.  In a moment he
came back, carrying some water from the fountain in an old flower-pot,
and went bounding upstairs two steps at a time, slopping it all the way.
Beppina followed breathlessly, and reached the top step just in time to
see that bad boy give a vigorous pull at the bell.

There was a scrambling sound within before the door was thrown open by
Teresina, who, supposing it to be the priest, had instantly called the
other servants and flopped down upon her knees to receive his blessing,
and the sprinkling of holy water which always accompanied it.  Behind
Teresina knelt Maria, the cook, and Antonia, the house-maid, with their
hands clasped and their heads reverently bent, and it was only when they
had all received a generous dose of water which was not at all holy that
they raised their heads and saw the grinning face of Beppo and the empty
flower-pot in his hand.  Teresina started wrathfully to her feet, and if
the real priest had not been heard coming up the stairs at that moment
things might have gone badly with Beppo.  As it was, the real priest
followed the bogus one so quickly that there was just time for the
children to slip to their knees before Padre Ugo, who was short, fat,
and breathless, entered, followed by an acolyte carrying the vessel of
holy water.

Padre Ugo was in a tremendous hurry, for he had many other places to
visit that morning.  He fairly ran through the rooms, sprinkling each
with a dash of holy water, mumbling a prayer and raising his hand in
blessing, then racing on to the next, with all the household trailing
behind him like the tail of a kite.  He blessed the kitchen and
pantries, he even blessed the cat which was washing her face by the
kitchen range.  Not being a religious cat, she put up her tail and fled
into the coal-hole, where she stayed until the priest had gone.

The only room in the whole house to be missed was the one occupied by
the governess.  That poor lady had locked herself in with her headache,
and she was a Protestant besides, so that room had to go unblessed the
whole year through.

When Padre Ugo had gone, Teresina was obliged to give her whole
attention to the baby, and it was not until she and the Twins were ready
for the street that at last she said stiffly to Beppo, "To-morrow
morning, Don Beppo, you will find that the hares have left no Easter
eggs in the garden for such a naughty boy as you."

CHAPTER TWO.

IN THE PIAZZA.

The clock in the reception hall had already struck eleven, when the two
children, dressed in their best, followed by Teresina, passed out
beneath the carved stone arch of the palace door into the streets of
Florence.  Their way lay through the edge of the beautiful Boboli
Gardens, where lilacs bloomed, and birds were singing as they built
their nests, past churches and palaces, across the Ponte Vecchio, one of
the oldest of all the old bridges across the Arno, and then on through
narrow streets on the other side of the river, and it was nearly noon
when at last they reached the Piazza del Duomo.

The square was a wonderful sight on that beautiful spring morning.
There in front of them rose the great Cathedral, with its mighty dome,
and beside it stood the bell-tower, which Beppina had watched from her
window in the dawn.  Here also in the square was the old Baptistery, _il
bel San Giovanni_, where Beppo and Beppina, and all the other children
in Florence had been baptised when they were babies.

From all the side streets entering the piazza there poured streams of
people, until it seemed as if everybody in the world must be there.  In
that great crowd there were peasants leading donkeys, with bells
jingling from their scarlet trappings; there were carts filled with
black-eyed babies and women whose only head-covering was their own sleek
black braids; there were farmers and peddlers, noblemen and beggars,
great ladies and gypsies, bare-footed monks and tourists, black-hooded
Brothers of the Misericordia, and organ-grinders, fruit-sellers,
flower-sellers, old people and young, rich and poor, every one eager for
the great Easter spectacle to begin.

Teresina found a place for the children and herself on the edge of the
crowd, and almost at once there appeared right before their eyes a great
black car drawn by four splendid white oxen all garlanded with flowers.
This strange black car stopped directly in front of the Cathedral; then
from the open door of the Baptistery came a solemn procession, headed by
the Archbishop bearing a brazier filled with sacred fire.  The
procession disappeared within the Cathedral doors, and there was a
moment of breathless silence both within the church and without, as the
Archbishop lighted the candles on the high altar from the holy fire.

The instant the candles flamed, the choir burst forth in a great
swelling chorus.  "Glory to God in the highest," they sang, and the
bells in the Campanile began to ring as if they had suddenly gone mad.

Then the wonderful thing happened for which every one had been waiting.
Out of the door of the Cathedral, high above the heads of the people,
there flashed a white dove!  It sped along a wire to the great black
car, and the instant it touched it there was a terrific bang, then
another, and another, as hissing rockets tore their way into the sky.
The whole car seemed to blow up in a joyful burst of sound!

"Look!  Look! the Colombina!" shouted the people, and as the mechanical
dove returned along its wire to the altar, the air was filled with
shouts of "Christ is risen!  Buona Pasqua!  Buona Pasqua!" from a
thousand throats.

The bells of the Campanile clashed and sang overhead, waking all the
bells in Florence and in the hills for miles around, so that, with the
singing and the ringing, there was never a more joyful noise made than
was heard in the Piazza del Duomo on that Easter Saturday in Florence!

Teresina and the children, shouting like the others, had just turned
with the crowd to follow the car as it moved away from the Cathedral
doors, when suddenly Teresina gave a shriek of joy, and, dropping their
hands, rushed to the side of a cart which was standing beside the curb
in one of the streets opening into the square.  It is not surprising
that she forgot the children for a moment, for there in the cart sat her
mother, holding in her arms Teresina's own baby, which she had left at
home in order to take care of the baby of the Marchesa.  Moreover,
beside the cart was Teresina's husband, and in it there were also her
little brothers and sisters!

The Twins, thus suddenly loosed from Teresina's grasp, were swept along
by the crowd, and when, a few moments later, she turned to look for
them, they were no longer in sight.

Beppina clutched Beppo's arm as they were pushed along by a fat man
behind them.  "We must find Teresina!" she shouted in his ear.

"We can't get back!"  Beppo shouted in reply, punching the fat man in
the stomach with his elbow and pulling Beppina closer to his side; "and
besides," he went on in a lower key, "I'm glad to get away from her.
We'll have a good time by ourselves and go home when we get ready
without being followed around by a nurse like two babies."

"What will Mammina say?" gasped Beppina.

"She isn't here, so she won't say anything at all," said naughty Beppo.
Then he added with an important wag of his head; "Just you stick by me;
I'll take care of you."

Beppina had her doubts, but she considered Beppo the most remarkable boy
in the world, so she trotted obediently along with her hand in his, sure
that he was equal to any situation that might arise.

For an hour or more the two children wandered about the piazza, carried
hither and thither in the wake of the crowds.  First they followed the
black-cowled Misericordia Brothers as they bore away to the hospital a
sick old man who had fallen in the street.  Then they found a marionette
show and stood entranced for a long time before it, watching the
thrilling adventures of Pantalone.  After that they crept into the dim
Cathedral, now nearly empty of people, and watched the women who came to
light their tapers at the Great Paschal Candle beside the altar.  It was
then that they discovered they were hungry, and, going out on the
street, they refreshed themselves with oranges bought of a fruit-vendor.

If Teresina could have seen the children of the Marchesa as they stood
sucking oranges in the public street, it is likely she might have
fainted with horror, and been carried away to the hospital by the
black-robed Brothers of Mercy in her turn; but as it was, Teresina was
not there to see.  After searching the crowds distractedly for an hour,
she had rushed back to the palace, hoping to find the Twins there before
her, and turning the whole establishment into an uproar when she found
they had not yet appeared.

Meanwhile, the children, unconscious of time, were wandering about
enjoying their new freedom, and growing more adventurous at every step.
Though they had finished their oranges, they were still hungry, and
there was a wonderful smell of roasting chicken in the air, which Beppo
followed with the unerring instinct of a hungry boy, and soon the two
children were standing before an open cook-shop in a side street,
gnawing chicken bones and smacking their lips with as much gusto as if
they had been bred in the streets instead of a palace.

When they left the cook-shop, with its rows of bright copper pots and
pans and its delicious smells, Beppo had only a few soldi left in his
pockets, and as for Beppina, there had been nothing but a handkerchief
in hers from the beginning.

"Avanti!" cried Beppo, made more bold than ever by the courage which
comes with a full stomach.  "Let's explore!" and, seizing the hand of
the more timid Beppina, he ventured farther and farther up the narrow
street.  They had never been in this part of the city before in their
lives.  They had never even dreamed that people could live in such dark,
dirty houses, more like rabbit-warrens than homes for human beings, and
on streets so narrow that Beppo could easily leap across them in one
jump.

They made their way through groups of idle loungers, stepping cautiously
around dirty babies playing in the gutters, and past slatternly mothers
gossiping in shrill tones from doorsteps and open windows, quite
unconscious of the fact that every one turned to look with astonishment
at the strange spectacle of two well-dressed children walking alone
through the burrow-like streets of old Florence.

At the opening of a dark passage they almost stumbled over an old woman
bent over a charcoal-brazier, where she was roasting chestnuts.

"She looks just like a witch," whispered Beppina, making the devil's
horns with her fingers to protect herself from the Evil Eye.  "Let's
hurry past."

They shrank back against the opposite wall of the narrow passage and
tried to squeeze by, but the old woman swept out a bony hand and seized
Beppina by the skirt.

"For the love of Santa Maria, just a few soldi, my pretty little lady,"
she whined, pulling the child toward her.  Her smile was so terrifying
that Beppina gave a little scream, and with Beppo's help tore herself
free of the old woman's grasp.  Then the two fled still farther up the
street, followed by a storm of abuse and the laughter of the idle people
they passed in their flight.

When at last they paused for breath, they found themselves in a
labyrinth of narrow alleys, with no idea of which way to turn to get
back to the piazza.  Beppina was frightened, but Beppo said confidently,
"All we've got to do is to keep on going, and we are sure to strike
either the piazza or the river, and we shall know how to get home from
either one, so don't you be afraid."

Inspired by his boldness, Beppina followed him from one narrow passage
to another, until at last the streets began to widen again, and they saw
before them an open square, and heard the sound of music.  They ran
joyously forward and found themselves in a beautiful but strange piazza,
with a great fountain playing in the centre, and fine old buildings
surrounding it on all sides.

The source of the music was hidden by a throng of people gathered
together near the fountain.  "It's a hand-organ," cried Beppo eagerly.
"Maybe there's a monkey!" and he dashed into the midst of the crowd.

Beppina followed close behind, and the two worked their way under the
elbows of the grown people until they reached the very centre, where
they were thrilled to find a dark, swarthy man, holding a bear by a
rope.  The bear was dancing clumsily on his hind legs, and near by a
woman with black eyes and hair and great rings in her ears was grinding
an organ.  On top of the organ sat a monkey in a red cap shaking a
tambourine.  Behind the group stood a yellow van, drawn by two donkeys
gayly tricked out with scarlet nets and jingling bells.

The Twins had no sooner arrived upon the scene than the music stopped,
the bear dropped upon all fours, and the monkey, hopping down from the
organ, began to leap about among the people, holding out the tambourine
for money.  Then it was wonderful to see how rapidly the crowd melted
away!  In a few moments the children were the only ones left.  Beppo
gave his last coin to the monkey, and the woman, throwing a black look
after the disappearing crowd, ground out another tune for them on the
organ, while the monkey, to Beppo's great delight, leaped upon his
shoulder and searched his pockets with her little black paws.

The man, meanwhile, was preparing to start away.  He handed the bear's
rope to his wife and, climbing to the driver's seat of the van, cracked
his whip, and shouted, "Aiou! aiou! you laggards!" to the donkeys.  The
monkey leaped from Beppo's shoulder to the back of the bear, and, as the
caravan began to move, turned somersaults on the bear's back with such
wonderful agility that no boy on earth could have resisted following
her.  The woman said something to her husband which the children did not
understand, though they did not know that it was because she spoke to
him in the Venetian dialect; then she turned to Beppo and said with an
insinuating smile, "Where is it that the Signore lives?"

Now here was a woman of sense!  She called him Signore, as if he were
already a grown man!  Beppo swelled with satisfaction and answered
promptly, "In the Palace Grifoni, across the river."

"Si, si," said the woman, which in Italian means "Yes, yes."

"We are going in that direction.  Would you not like to go with us and
lead the bear?"  Oh, if Teresina could have heard that!  Here were
people who thought him quite big enough to lead a live bear, while she--
and Mammina, too, for that matter--thought he still should be followed
by a nurse!

Beppo leaped boldly forward, though Beppina tried to hold him back, and,
seizing the bear's rope, marched proudly along behind the van.  The
woman laughed and clapped her hands.  "Bravo, bravo!" she cried.  Then,
turning to the panic-stricken Beppina, she said comfortingly: "The old
Ugolone will not hurt him.  He is very old and as tame as a kitten.
See!"  She gave the bear a slap and walked along beside him with her
hand on his back, and Beppina could do nothing but follow.

For some time they trailed the van in this way, together with a small
army of boys and girls, who were consumed with envy for Beppo and hoped
they too might be allowed a turn at leading the bear.  One by one they
had dropped away and returned to their homes before the Twins realised
that the afternoon was nearly spent and night was approaching.

"We must go home now, please," said Beppina politely to the woman.

"Si, si," said the woman, nodding her head and smiling more than ever.
"We shall soon see the river."

This assurance quieted Beppina for a time, and she trudged patiently
along until they reached the very outskirts of the city, and still no
bridge and no river had appeared.  Not Beppina only, but Beppo too now
began to be alarmed.  Where were they going?  Oh, if only the grey walls
of the Grifoni palace would rise before them!  Beppo even began to
modify his opinion about Teresina.  Her ruff and streamers would have
been as welcome a sight to him just then as an oasis to travellers in
the desert.  But alas!  Teresina was at that moment many miles away, and
distracted with anxiety and grief.  The bewildered Beppina now began to
cry.

"Come, my pretty," said the woman in a wheedling tone, "you are tired,
is it not so?  You shall rest the weary legs."  Her voice was soft, but
she seized Beppina with a grip of steel, and swung her up into the back
of the moving van.  "You too, my brave one," she went on, taking the
bear's rope from Beppo's hand, and tying it to a ring in the back of the
cart.  "Up you go."  She gave him a shove as he scrambled up beside
Beppina, and then, tossing the monkey in after him, swung herself up
beside the children.

The road now began to ascend, and the Twins with growing terror watched
the sun sink lower and lower behind the dome of the Cathedral, which
they could see in the distance.  Beppina shook with sobs, and Beppo sat
pale and frightened as the tower and the dome, the only landmarks they
knew in Florence, grew darker and darker against the sunset sky.

"Do not cry, madonna mia," said the woman, giving Beppina a little
shake.  "You have missed your way, but what of that?  You are safe with
us.  If you have money in your pockets you might possibly find your way
home even yet, though it is nearly dark, and it is very dangerous for
children to go about alone."

"But we haven't any money," said Beppo.  "I gave all I had to the
monkey!"

"Ah," said the woman, "that is bad, to go back without money!  You would
spend the night in the streets without doubt, or possibly in the jail.
If the police found you they would take you for vagrants.  It would be
terrible indeed if the police should get you!  Still, if you think best
you can jump down and start back right now.  I do not believe the bear
would hurt you, even though he does not like to have any one jump right
in front of him!"

The children looked down at Ugolone, lumbering along behind the van.  If
they jumped it must be almost on top of him, and in the darkness he
looked as big as a house and very alarming.  Even Beppo lost his
swagger, and as for Beppina, she was speechless with terror.  The woman
continued to cajole them.

"Soon we shall camp beside the road for the night," she said, "and you
shall have something hot for your supper, and sleep in the van as cozy
as birds in a nest.  That is surely much better than the jail!  And
to-morrow--oh, la bella vita! just think, you shall grind the organ and
play with Carina all day long, and there will be no lessons!"

There was no response to this alluring prospect.  The children,
homesick, weary, terror-stricken, clung to each other in the darkness,
and shrank as far as possible from the woman, whom they now saw to be
not their friend, but their jailer.

On and on through the deepening darkness lumbered the yellow van, until
it seemed to the unhappy children that it must be nearly morning.  At
last, however, the team turned from the highroad and stopped beside a
little stream.  The woman sprang out, and while her husband unharnessed
the donkeys and tied Ugolone to a tree for the night, she built a fire,
and hung a kettle over it.  She put the monkey in Beppina's arms, and
sent Beppo for water from the stream, and to gather sticks for the fire.
Soon a kettleful of steaming mush was ready, and the woman, whose name
was Carlotta, called Luigi, her husband, and, giving the children each a
tin dish, bade them eat their supper.  Even if it had been her favourite
food, Beppina could not have swallowed a mouthful that night, but Beppo,
though he too was homesick, could still eat, even though nothing better
than polenta was offered him.  He sat down with Carlotta and Luigi
before the fire on the ground, while Beppina stayed in the back of the
van, hugging the monkey to her lonely heart and striving to keep back
the tears.

The flickering flames lit up the trunks of the trees, making them stand
out like sentinels against the velvet darkness of the woods beyond, and
sending dancing shadows of the bear and the donkeys far across the
murmuring stream.  The moon looked down through the tree-tops and the
nightingales sang plaintively in the shadows.

After supper, while Luigi sat smoking his pipe by the fire, Carlotta
threw a heap of straw into one corner of the van, and said to the
children: "Come hither, my poverelli!  Here is a soft bed for you!  Lie
down and sleep!"

Too tired to do anything else, if, indeed, there had been anything else
in the world for them to do, the children obeyed, and, clasped in each
other's arms, soon fell asleep, worn-out with sorrow and fatigue.

CHAPTER THREE.

IN THE MOUNTAINS.

They were awakened next morning by the chattering of the monkey, and,
looking out from their corner, they could not for a moment remember
where they were, or how they came to be there.  The sun was shining
brightly, the birds were singing, and Carlotta was up and stirring
something in a pot over the fire.  Luigi had gone with the donkeys to
give them a drink, and Ugolone was standing on his hind legs beside his
tree, grunting impatiently for his breakfast.

Beppina gazed at the strange scene for one blank moment, then, as memory
came back, she buried her head in the straw and sobbed.  Beppo tried to
comfort her.

"Don't cry, Beppinella," he whispered.  "To-day we shall find some way
of returning to Florence.  I feel sure of it!  It might be worse.
Pazienza!  We must make the best of it."

Just then, Carlotta, hearing the muffled sobs and the murmur of his
voice, appeared at the end of the van.

"Come out, little lost ones," she called to them.  "The sun shines, and
we shall have a fine day in the mountains.  See, here is Carina waiting
to greet you!"  She tossed the monkey toward them as she spoke, and
disappeared around the end of the van.  Soon she returned, carrying in
her hand a green blouse and a gay striped skirt.

"Here," she said to Beppina, "I will lend these to you.  Then you can
save your pretty clothes so they will be clean to wear when you return
to your Mammina."  She spoke so confidently of their return that Beppina
thought perhaps the woman meant to take them back that very day.  She
reluctantly put on the queer blouse and the striped skirt, while Beppo
arrayed himself in a pair of velveteen trousers which were as much too
long for him as the skirt was for Beppina.  Carlotta had brought these
also, and she gave him a red sash to bind around his waist as well.
When they were equipped in these garments the two children gazed at each
other in dismay.

"You don't look like Beppo at all.  You look just like a bandit," said
Beppina.

"And you--you look like a gypsy girl!" gasped Beppo.

"Even Mammina wouldn't know us if she were to see us now," Beppina
whispered, despairingly.

"That's just why that woman did it!" gasped Beppo, with sudden
illumination.  "She doesn't care a bit about saving our clothes!  She
wants to disguise us, so people will think we belong to them!"

"Oh, dear!" shuddered Beppina.  "Let's change back again."

They seized their clothes, but just then they saw Carlotta's glittering
black eyes gazing in at them from the end of the van.  It was as if she
knew their very thoughts.


"Avanti, avanti!" she called.  "Is it that you are lazy?  Come!  We must
be on the road!"

Not daring to linger or protest, the two strange little figures came
tumbling out of the straw at once, and, after washing in the brook, sat
down on a fallen log to eat their breakfast.  Carina perched beside them
on the log, and, when she had finished her own portion, leaped on
Ugolone's back, and, leaning down, snatched away some of his breakfast
from under his nose.  In vain poor old Ugolone growled and slapped at
her with his clumsy paws.  He was always too slow to catch her.

The children were so absorbed in watching this drama that they did not
notice what Carlotta was doing meanwhile, but later, when they looked
for their own clothes again, they had mysteriously disappeared, and were
not seen again.

When they had finished breakfast, Carlotta called to Beppina, "Come
here, poverina!  Your hair is full of straw.  I will fix it for you."
Beppina obeyed, and the woman coaxed her tangled locks into place,
combing them with her fingers, and at last succeeded in plaiting them
into a number of tight braids which she wound about her head.  "There,"
said she when this was done, "now you will no longer need your hat."

"But," said Beppina, "I want my hat!  Only peasants go bare-headed."
The woman gave a short laugh, and her teeth gleamed so white between her
lips that Beppina thought of the wolf who tried to pass himself off for
Red Riding Hood's grandmother.

"Do as you are told," said Carlotta.  She smiled as she said it, but
there was such a fierce look in her face that Beppina made the sign
against the Evil Eye, with her hand behind her, and submitted silently
as Carlotta tied a red kerchief over the braids.  These preparations
completed, the caravan moved on, with Luigi as usual in the driver's
seat, Carlotta leading the bear, and the Twins, carrying the monkey,
bringing up the rear.

On and on they travelled, but in which direction the children could only
guess.  There were many turns in the road, which wound constantly
upward, and with every mile the country grew more wild.  Through
openings between the hills they caught fleeting glimpses of quaint
villages clinging to the mountain-sides, and of ancient castles
commanding beautiful views across fertile valleys.  At one time they saw
the roofs of a great stone monastery, hidden away among olive trees.
They heard the music of its bells and caught faint echoes of the
chanting of the monks.  It was then that they remembered that it was
Easter Sunday.

"If we were at home, we should now be hunting Easter eggs and sugar
lambs in the garden," whispered Beppina.

"Teresina said there wouldn't be any there, anyway," Beppo answered,
winking very hard; and then neither one said anything for a long time.

All day long the donkeys plodded up the steep slopes, only stopping by
the wayside for rest and food at noon.  It was evident that Luigi
thought best to keep to the least-frequented mountain ways, so all
through the sunny hours the sad little travellers walked behind the van,
or climbed inside to rest their weary feet, not knowing where they were
going and not daring to ask.

At sunset they reached the crest of a high hill, and, looking back, they
could see far, far away in the purple distance, the twinkling lights of
the city of Florence, looking like a sky full of stars fallen to earth.
On the slopes of nearer hills there were other twinkling lights like
chains of jewels winding in and out among the trees.  The mountain
villages were celebrating the Easter festival with candle-lit
processions and with singing.  The words of the Easter song floated
across the blue spaces.  "The Royal Banners forward go," came the faint
chant, and, mingling with the vesper song of thrush and nightingale,
lulled the tired travellers to dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER FOUR.

THEY LEARN TO DANCE.

It was cold in the mountains, and the children shivered as Carlotta
routed them out in the early dawn of the next morning.  "Come," she said
crossly, as she set up the forked sticks for the kettle, "bestir
yourselves, lazy ones!  We are poor people.  Do you think we can afford
to feed you and wait upon you like servants besides?  To-day there must
be no more snivelling and whining.  Beppo, take the pail and fetch
water.  You, Beppina, gather sticks for the fire."

Her wheedling manner was now quite gone.  Instead she gave her orders
with such a threatening look that the children trembled with fear as
they hastened to obey.  At a little distance from the spot where they
were encamped, a stream, fed by a mountain spring, gushed forth from a
pile of rocks, and Beppo, seizing the pail, plunged into the dark pine
woods to find it.  Beppina followed, and the instant they found
themselves alone in the forest, the two hid behind a tree and held a
hurried consultation.

"Listen, cocca mia," whispered Beppo.  "I have thought this all out.
They do not mean to take us back, ever!  They will keep us like slaves
to work for them!  If we want to see our home again, we must obey
everything they say, no matter how hard.  Then some day, when they
aren't watching, we will run away.  Only not in these mountains!  We
should only die of hunger and be eaten by the wolves."

Beppina shuddered.  "Oh, Beppo," she sobbed, "there is a lump in my
throat as big as an egg!  I cannot swallow it.  When I think of Mammina,
it seems to me I shall die!"

Beppo gave her a little shake.  "But you _must_ be brave," he said.
"Every day we will have a word together, and soon our chance will come."

"I'll try, Beppo," said Beppina, gulping down her sobs.

"Good girl!" said Beppo, patting her approvingly, though his own lips
trembled and his voice shook.  "Don't you remember how it is in the
fairy tales?  The prince _always_ kills the giants and dragons if only
he isn't afraid, even if he has to pass through enchanted forests."

Beppina looked fearfully over her shoulder.  "Oh, Beppo," she gasped, "I
didn't think of it before, but now I'm sure.  This _is_ an enchanted
forest, and Carlotta is a witch woman!  We must pray always to the Holy
Virgin to protect us.  Promise me you will!"

"I promise," said Beppo solemnly; "and don't you forget about the prince
either."

Just then they heard Carlotta's voice shouting at them, and, leaping
apart, they fled to do their errands.

When breakfast had been eaten, and the animals fed, Luigi lit his pipe
and stretched out on the ground beside the fire with the monkey beside
him.

"Here we stay a little," he said.  "Ugolone lies there like one dead.
The donkeys are tired and so am I.  We have come thirty miles from
Florence."

"Ecco!" said Carlotta.  "Then there is time for bean soup."  She sent
Beppo for more water, and, when the kettle was bubbling on the fire,
called the children to her side.  "Tell me," she said, "can you dance?"

"A little," quavered Beppina.  "Dance, then," said the woman.  Beppina
reluctantly seized her skirts, and, making a dancing-school bow, took a
few dainty steps and tripped over a stone.

Carlotta laughed contemptuously.  "Santa Maria!" she said, "you don't
call that dancing!"  Then, beckoning to her husband, she cried, "But
they know nothing!  They cannot earn their salt!  We have made a bad
bargain.  Come, then, and we will teach these ignorant ones the
trescone!"

Luigi grunted as he rose unwillingly from his hard couch, tied the
monkey's string about a tree branch, and came forward.

"Watch closely, both of you," said Carlotta to the children.  "It is for
you to dance like Tuscans, not like marionettes.  Even old Ugolone can
do better."

Once he was roused, Luigi's weariness seemed to vanish.  He suddenly
seized Carlotta's hands, and, holding her at arm's length, began to
wheel and jump, to turn and twist in all sorts of curious figures.
Sometimes the dancers' arms were linked above their heads.  Sometimes
they shook a lifted foot.  Faster and faster they whirled, and the
monkey, inspired by their example, began to leap and bound about at the
end of her string, chattering wildly.

The speed of the dancers slackened like that of a spinning top, and they
came to a sudden standstill.  Luigi returned to Carina and his place by
the fire, and Carlotta got out the hand-organ.  All the morning she made
the children practice the figures of the dance to music, until they were
ready to drop with fatigue.  While she prepared the soup for their noon
meal they were allowed to rest, but immediately afterwards the donkeys
were harnessed again, and to the music of their tinkling bells the
little cavalcade moved on.

For some time they travelled over the steep mountain roads without
seeing a soul; then they met a girl driving a flock of sheep to pasture.
Later they overtook some peasant women walking like queens with great
loads of wood on their heads.  Beyond them they passed an ox-team, and
Beppo whispered to Beppina, "It's a good sign to meet oxen in the road."
But alas, a moment later they met a priest, mumbling his prayers as he
walked.  It was a glance of despair that Beppina gave her brother then,
for it is very bad luck to meet a priest in the road, as every Tuscan
child can tell you.

Nevertheless, all these signs, bad and good, indicated that they were
approaching a town, and a few moments later they came to a stream where
women were washing clothes, and the van rumbled across a bridge and into
the open square of a small mountain village.  In an instant there was
great excitement in the town, and all the inhabitants swarmed about the
van.

Luigi climbed down from the driver's seat, with Carina on his shoulder,
and loosed the bear's rope, while Carlotta brought out the organ, and
gave the tambourine to the monkey.

"Balla!  Balla!" cried Luigi, and Ugolone rising to his hind legs
wearily began his clumsy dance.  The children, meanwhile, shrank back
out of sight in the van.

"She will make us dance like the bear, I know she will," moaned Beppina,
"and I cannot remember the steps!"  She crossed herself frantically, and
said a prayer to the Virgin, but it was of no avail, for soon Carlotta's
wheedling tones reached their hiding-place.

"Avanti, carissimi," she called, and, not daring to disobey or even to
linger, the children leaped from the back of the van into the centre of
a crowd of round-eyed villagers.  The children of the Marchese Grifoni
dancing in company with a monkey and a bear for the entertainment of an
audience of peasants!  The humiliation of it was almost more than they
could endure, but the Twins did their best, and the moment the
performance was over dived into the back of the van, and hid themselves
again, while Carina leaped about among the crowd, gathering the soldi in
her tambourine.

Their stay in the village was short, for the people were poor.

"It is a town of pigs," said Carlotta angrily, as she counted the money,
and to the great relief of the children she gave the order to move on
into the hills beyond the village.

They stopped at one more village during the afternoon, and here things
went better.  The children remembered their steps, and there were more
soldi in the tambourine, even though Ugolone sat firmly down upon his
haunches and refused to budge.  In vain Luigi tugged at his rope and
shouted "Balla!  Balla!"  It was as if Ugolone, seeing the children
dance, had concluded that his dancing days were over, and had resigned
in their favour.

To make up for Ugolone the Twins had to dance again and again, and then
to their great surprise Carlotta made them sing!  They had voices like
the whistle of song thrushes in the spring, but how in the world could
Carlotta have guessed that?  They were too astonished to refuse, even if
they had dared, so they opened their mouths and quavered out a song
about the swallow, which they had learned in the nursery at home.

This was the song:--

  "Pilgrim swallow, lightly winging,
  Now upon the terrace sitting,
  Ev'ry morn I hear thee singing,
  In sad tones thy song repeating.
  What may be the tale thou'rt telling,
  Pilgrim swallow, near my dwelling?

  "Thou art happier far than I am;
  On free wing at least thou'rt flying
  Over lake and breezy mountain.
  Thou canst fill the air with crying
  His dear name through cave and hollow.
  Thou art free, thou pretty swallow."

It was so familiar a song that all the people joined with them in
singing it, and some of them danced to the music of the hand-organ when
it played, so that altogether the villagers had a gay time, and as a
result Carlotta found many more coins than usual in the tambourine when
the performance was over.  She glanced triumphantly at her husband as
she counted the money.  "We have caught two pigeons with one pea after
all," she said to him.

"As for that lazy Ugolone, he gets no supper!  If he will not work, he
shall not eat!"

The children heard and shuddered.  "She will treat us like that, too,"
sobbed Beppina, "and if she's truly a witch she may even turn us into
bears!"

Out through sunny vineyards and grey olive orchards beyond the town they
followed the winding road, and, as night came on, the weary children saw
that they were approaching a ruined castle set high on a spur of the
Apennines.  The wind swept over the bare hill-top and whistled through
the windows of its ruined towers, where hundreds of years before lovely
ladies had watched their knights ride forth to battle.

It was a bleak and lonely spot, fit only to be inhabited by ghosts, and
Beppina shivered as the wheels of the van rattled over the ancient
draw-bridge, and stopped in the overgrown court-yard.

"I know it's enchanted," she whispered to Beppo, and Beppo, his own
teeth chattering, could only say, "Remember about the prince," to keep
up their failing courage.

There was no sign of human beings about the place, and Luigi took
possession as if he owned it.  He tied Ugolone in the ruins of what had
once been a stately banqueting-hall, and let the donkeys eat their
supper from the green grass which carpeted the court-yard.

Soon a fire was blazing in the ruins of an ancient chimney, and the
tired travellers gathered about it for their evening meal.  From the
tower came the surprised hoot of a solitary owl, and bats, disturbed by
the light, swooped in great circles about the little group as they
silently ate their polenta.  Even the monkey seemed to feel the weird
spell of the place, for she cowered in a corner by the fire, chattering
to herself, while from the banqueting-hall came the complaining growls
of poor hungry Ugolone.  It was to such music as this that the children
of the Marchese at last fell asleep.

CHAPTER FIVE.

ON THE ROAD.

When they awoke the next morning Carlotta and Luigi were nowhere in
sight.  The monkey was tied to one wheel of the van, and from the
banqueting-hall came the sound of human voices, quarrelling.  The tones
were so loud that the children could not help hearing the words.

"It is all your fault!" said Luigi's voice.  "It was you who made me get
the bear in the first place, and undertake this foolish trip, all
because you must again see your people in Florence.  If we had but
stayed in Venice!  The bear was old when we got him; he was already
tired and sick when we left Florence, and now, per Bacco, he is dead!
You would not feed him, yet it was Ugolone that we depended upon to
bring in the money.  A hand-organ, a monkey--what are they?  And now you
have added those brats beside for us to feed!  This comes of listening
to a woman and a smooth-tongued Tuscan at that.  I could beat you!"

Carlotta's wheedling voice answered him.  "Do not grieve, my angel," she
said; "you will yet see the wisdom of your Carlotta.  Ugolone was old
and sick, it is true.  A pest upon the villain who sold him to us!  May
his eyes weep rivers of tears!  But you are wrong about the children.
They are worth more than Ugolone, the donkeys, and the van, all put
together.  Did you not see how they pleased the people yesterday?  I
will teach them to sing more songs, and to dance the tarantella as well
as the trescone, and we shall soon forget this sorrow.  When we reach
the coast, we will sell the van and the donkeys, and go back to your
beloved Venice, to live in comfort on the earnings of these brats!  You
shall see!"

"That's more of your oily Tuscan talk," growled Luigi.  "Think of the
risk we run!  If the ragazzini should be recognised, it would go hard
with us.  Their parents will lay every trap to catch us.  It is safe
enough in these mountain villages, but in the larger towns it will be a
different story.  There are the police--"

Carlotta interrupted him.  "Che, che!" she cried.  "You have the heart
of a chicken!  I tell you, even their own mother would hardly know them
now, and it will be easy to hide them in Venice.  We shall be like rats
in the walls of a house, where the cat cannot follow.  As for traps--we
are too sharp for them.  Even if we were to be seen and tracked, they
will not seek donkeys and a van in Venice, where there are no such
things."

Luigi only grunted for reply, and Carlotta, seeing that her arguments
had made an impression, boldly finished her plan.

"When we reach the coast," she said, "you remain behind to sell the van,
and I will go on to Venice with the ragazzini.  We shall not be pursued
upon the boat.  Courage!  In a few days we shall be safe, and then we
can live at ease, and you will say, `Ah, what a great head has my
Carlotta!'"

There was no reply from Luigi, and soon the children heard their
returning footfalls on the stone flagging.

"Pretend you're asleep," whispered Beppo.  "We mustn't let them think we
overheard."  They instantly lay down in the straw again, and when
Carlotta came to the back of the van a moment later, she was obliged to
call twice before she could arouse them!

While Carlotta, looking very glum, was cooking the everlasting polenta,
the children crept fearsomely into the ruined tower to take a last look
at poor old Ugolone.  There he lay on the flag-stones, a shapeless lump
of fur, and a little later Luigi skinned him, hung the pelt on the back
of the van, and, leaving the bones to whiten where they lay, set forth
once more upon the road.  From this time on things grew harder and
harder for the unhappy children.  Carlotta was caressing and smooth in
her manner to them when they were in the villages, calling them "my
children," "carissimi," which means "dearest," and other tender names,
but when they were by themselves she grew more and more harsh, while
Luigi was sullen, and scarcely spoke to them at all.

It was Carlotta who made them dance until they were ready to drop with
fatigue, and sing when their hearts were breaking.  Everywhere the
people thought them charming, and it was true, as Carlotta had said,
that they brought in more money than Ugolone.

They were now passing through one of the most lovely regions in the
world, but its beauty failed to comfort them or reconcile them to their
lot.  The rocky ramparts and blue horizon of the mountains were but
prison walls to them, from which they longed to escape.  One night, as
they lay shivering in the straw, with Carlotta and Luigi snoring at the
other end of the van, Beppo cautiously nudged his sister.

"It sounds like Teresina," he whispered.  "Don't you remember how she
snored that day we left home?"

"Don't," begged Beppina.  "It makes me homesick."

"I never thought I could wish to hear Teresina snore," Beppo answered,
"but now it would be music in my ears."  They were silent a few minutes,
and then Beppina--timid Beppina--put her lips close to Beppo's ear and
whispered, "Let's get out and run away."

"Where to?"  Beppo whispered.

"Anywhere, _anywhere_ away from here!" said poor Beppina.  "I'd rather
starve in the mountains than stay any longer.  We could creep out
without waking them."

"It's awfully dark," said Beppo, "and we'll have to climb right over
them!"

"Oh, let's try," urged Beppina.  They sat up cautiously and peered out.
They could just see a dark mass blocking up the open end of the van.
They struggled to their knees.  The straw rustled, and they stopped
dead, until everything was still again.  Then Beppo rose to his feet,
and, treading very carefully, took a step toward the end of the van.
But alas, he had forgotten the monkey!  She slept beside her mistress,
and Beppo stepped on her tail!  There was a scream as Carina leaped up
in the air, and lit on Beppo's shoulder, chattering furiously, and Beppo
instantly dropped down into the straw again.

"What's the matter?" said Carlotta.

The children could see her dark silhouette as she sat up and looked into
the dark interior of the van.

"Carina mia!  What is the matter?"

"Lie down," growled Luigi.  "She has had a bad dream.  Go to sleep!"
The monkey leaped to Carlotta's arm, snuggled down beside her, and quiet
reigned once more.  When the snores began again, the children had no
courage for a second attempt, and morning found things as hopeless as
ever.

They were now descending the eastern slopes of the Apennines, and Beppo,
remembering his geography, knew that they were getting farther and
farther from Florence.  At noon that day, as they were walking ahead of
the van, they rounded a turn in the road, and came suddenly upon a view
stretching far across the plains of eastern Italy to where the blue
waters of the Adriatic lay sparkling in the sun.  The landscape was
dotted with villages, and far away in the blue distance they could see
the spires and towers of a large coast town.

Beppo's spirits rose a little.  "See," he said to Beppina, "we are
coming out of the mountains into a region where there are many towns.
Who knows?  Perhaps we may find a chance to get away.  It would be less
dangerous here than in the hills."

But again they were doomed to disappointment, for the next day it
rained, and Carlotta made them stay hidden in the van as it lumbered
slowly through the villages on the road to the sea.  Though it was only
two days, it seemed at least a week that they lay in the straw,
listening to the rumble of the wheels and the patter of the rain on the
roof.  There could be no fires, so their food was bread and cheese,
which Carlotta bought in the towns.

At last, early on the third morning, they heard from their prison a new
sound, and, peering cautiously over Luigi's shoulder, saw that at last
they had reached the sea.  They could hear the slapping of waves against
the piles of a dock, and could catch glimpses of green water.  Men with
trucks were hurrying by, loading fruit and vegetables upon a large boat
which was tied to the pier.  There was so much noise about them that the
children could talk together in low tones without being overheard.

"I know where we are," said Beppo.  "I tell you, I'm glad I studied
geography!  The sun is breaking through the clouds over the water, and
it's early morning, so that's the east, of course.  We heard Carlotta
say they were going to take us to Venice, so this must be a coast town
on the Adriatic.  It isn't Ravenna, because Ravenna is back from the sea
a few miles.  The only other big port along here is Rimini, and I'll bet
that's just where we are."

"Oh, Beppo, what a wonderful boy you are, to think that all out
yourself!" said Beppina.  "You're such a wonderful thinker!  Why can't
you think of away to escape?"


"I do think, all the time," answered poor Beppo, "but Carlotta is just
like a cat at a mouse-hole.  Her eyes never leave us, and if we should
try to run, she would pounce--"

"Hush!" whispered Beppina, "there she is."  There, indeed, she was,
smiling craftily at them from the end of the van.

"You may come out now, my little ones," she said in her most syrupy
tones.  "Here we leave the van with Luigi, while we take a nice
boat-ride!"  She seized them firmly by the hands, and, followed by Luigi
carrying the organ and the monkey, led them over the gang-plank on to
the boat.  Once aboard, she sought an obscure corner, behind the baskets
of fruit and vegetables with which the vessel was loaded, and made the
children sit beside her, while Luigi piled around them numerous bundles
brought from the van.

At last the rumble of trucks ceased, the sailors loosed the great
hawsers which tied the boat to the dock, and in a few moments the
children, looking back to the shore, saw a widening strip of green water
between them and their native land.

CHAPTER SIX.

VENICE.

For two beautiful bright days they remained on the boat, as it made its
way up the eastern coast of Italy, and on the morning of the third,
there, rising before them out of the mists, like a dream city afloat
upon the waters, was Venice!  It was so lovely, with its domes, towers,
and palaces mirrored in the still waters, and its hundreds of sails
making spots of bright colour against the blue, that for a short time
the children almost forgot their grief.  As the boat entered a great
lagoon, and slowly made its way through the Canal della Giudecca to the
landing-place, Carlotta grew more than ever vigilant.  The children had
hoped against hope that some way of escape might appear when they
reached the dock, but Carlotta remained at their elbows every moment,
and under her watchful eyes they could not even speak to each other,
much less to any one else.

It was evident that she meant to make them understand how impossible it
would be for them to get away from Venice, for as the boat rounded the
western side of the island upon which the city is built, she pointed out
to them the mainland, lying two miles away across the water, and the
long black railroad bridge which is the only connection between the two.

"You see how it is, my little ones," she said.  "One cannot leave Venice
without a boat, a ticket on the railway, or wings!  And truly, how could
any one wish to leave it?  Luigi has been wretched all the time he has
been away, and never wishes to desert his beloved city again.  You too
will feel the same."

The children made no reply.  They were as helpless as caged birds, and
could only follow her silently, as she loaded them with bundles, and,
herself carrying the organ and the monkey, led the way across the
gang-plank to the dock.  Staggering under their burdens, they entered
the city of Venice.  Oh, if they could only have entered it with their
dear Babbo, or Mammina, how happy they would have been, for there, right
before their eyes as they walked, were all the wonderful things which
Beppo had learned about in his geography!

There were the canals with the gondolas flitting about on them like
black beetles on a pool.  There were the great beautiful buildings with
their facades rising out of the water, and their back doors opening upon
narrow streets or tiny open squares.  There were the glimpses of
blossoming tree-tops hanging over high walls, and of balconies gay with
potted geraniums and carnations in bloom.  There were the beautiful
stone door-ways with gayly painted posts beside them, to which empty
gondolas were tied.

The air was misty and fragrant with sea smells, and in every direction
they looked their eyes were greeted with the lovely colours of the old
buildings, reflected in the water so clearly that it seemed as if there
were two cities, one hanging suspended upside down below the other.  It
was so different from Florence, from Rome, from anything they had ever
seen before, that the children forgot even that they were hungry, and
went up the streets wide-eyed with wonder, absorbed in all these
marvels.

"Get on, get on!" said Carlotta crossly, behind them.  "Your eyes will
pop out of your heads, and drop in the street if you stare so.  Carina
is hungry, and so am I, and we must earn our dinner before we eat it."

Through one narrow street after another they made their way, until at
last they reached an open square fronting on the water.

"Here is the market," said Carlotta, depositing the organ in the middle
of the open space, and the children, sighing with relief, also dropped
their bundles and gazed about them.  Drawn up to the water's edge were
many boats loaded with great baskets of fruit and vegetables.  Merchants
swarmed about these boats like flies, and the produce was immediately
purchased and placed in stalls or booths around the edge of the square,
where people with market-baskets on their arms were buying their
provisions for the day.

It was a busy and crowded place, but Carlotta gave the children little
time to look.  "Dance," she commanded, as she began to grind out a tune
upon the organ.  Carina sprang to the top of the box, and began to hop
up and down in time to the music as the children went through the wild
contortions of the trescone.  A crowd immediately gathered about them,
and the coins began to rain into Carina's tambourine.

When the dance was finished, Carlotta led the way to a booth in the
square, where hot macaroni was for sale, and here their hungry mouths
were filled with the first warm food they had tasted for several days.
They ate and were comforted.  Then, leaving the market-place, they
passed through narrow streets and over little bridges spanning the
canals, until they reached another small open square in a crowded
portion of the city.  Carlotta walked faster and faster as they
approached it, and the Twins had almost to run to keep up with her.

As they entered the square, a small dirty boy about Beppo's size
suddenly gave a shout.  "It is Carina!" he cried, and, not noticing
Carlotta or the Twins, he seized the monkey in his arms and kissed its
little black face.  Carlotta gave him a playful slap.

"Ecco!" she cried to the Twins.  "Here we have the brave Giovanni!  And
he cares nothing for his godmother!  He loves only the little black
monkey!  See, Giovanni!  I have brought two playmates for you.  They
were lost, and I have protected them out of charity.  They will live
with us."

Giovanni stared at the Twins for a moment, then he ran out his tongue at
Beppo.  "I can lick you!" he cried.  Beppo stiffened with fury.  All the
pent-up rage of the past weeks rose up within him, and here was some one
on whom he could legitimately wreak it!  He dropped his bundles, rolled
up his sleeves, and roared, "Come on!"

Giovanni threw the monkey at Carlotta and instantly came on!  A crowd of
ragged boys and girls gathered about them, and the fight began.  It did
not last long, for Beppo had taken boxing-lessons along with his other
studies, and he met Giovanni's advance with a swift blow which sent him
spinning to the ground.  Then he sat upon him until he begged for mercy,
while the crowd squealed with delight.  Carlotta turned the organ and
the monkey over to Beppina, picked Beppo off the prostrate Giovanni, and
then, seizing the two boys by their collars, thumped their heads smartly
together.

"Ecco!" she said.  "Now you have had your fight, you can be friends."
Loading them both with bundles, she marched them across the square to
the back door of a dilapidated house, with the crowd surging about them.
Here she drew them into a narrow entrance and, leading them up two
flights of dirty stairs, knocked at a door.  It was opened by a
slatternly woman, who gave a shrill cry of astonishment when she saw the
group on her threshold.

The monkey evidently knew her, for he leaped from Giovanni's arms to her
shoulder and began to pull her hair.

"Santa Maria!  Santa Maria!" screamed the woman.  "If it is not that
devil of a Carina come back again!  Let go of my hair, you demon, or
I'll wring your black neck!"

Carlotta laughed, and picked the monkey off of Giovanni's mother just as
she had picked Beppo off of her son a few moments before.

The children, left to themselves, stared about at their new quarters,
while Giovanni stared at them.  The room was large, bare, dilapidated,
and dirty.  On the floor were some old mattresses filled with
corn-husks, which were evidently used as beds.  There was a wooden table
with some soiled dishes standing on it, and, beyond this and a few
chairs, there was no furniture except two pots of geraniums on the
window-sill.  A door opened into a smaller room beyond, and through it
they could see a stove, with a kettle standing on the floor beside it.

Giovanni had evidently made up his mind that any one who could "lick"
him must indeed be a hero, for, having finished his critical survey of
the Twins, he said affably, "My father is a gondolier.  What's yours?"

"A Marchese," said Beppo.

"Holy Madonna!" gasped the boy.  "Doesn't he do any work?"

"No," said Beppo.  "He just goes to Rome to help the King."

Carlotta overheard them.  "Don't you ever say that again, you wicked
little liar!" she cried fiercely.  "If you do, I'll cut off your
tongue."  She turned again to the other woman.

"Do they look like the children of a Marchese?  I ask you," she said.
"They were lost, and I have taken care of them out of charity!  They
sing and dance to pay for their keep, but it's little enough they bring
in at best!  Old Ugolone is dead, and Luigi has stayed behind to dispose
of the van and the donkeys.  With the money he gets for them he'll buy a
boat and pick up a living on the canals.  We shall go no more on tours
about the country.  It does not pay.  There are as many soldi to be
found in Venice as anywhere, and with the organ and Carina we shall get
along, even with two extra mouths to feed!"

Giovanni's mother winked her eye and nodded a great many times.

"Si, si," she said.  "There will be many tourists in Venice this summer,
and it is not to believe the way Americans throw money about.  Mario
says their pockets are lined with gold!"

Sick with terror, the children turned away from Carlotta and looked out
of the windows.

"See me," said Giovanni.  He wanted to do something to make himself
admired after his recent humiliation, so he doubled himself across the
sill of the open window and leaned far out over the canal which flowed
directly beneath.  "Look!" he cried, waving his legs at the peril of
taking a header into the water.

His mother seized him.  "Madonna mia," she screamed, "that boy would
rather drown than not," and, giving him a smart spank, she jerked him
back into the room by a leg.  Giovanni rubbed the spot and grinned
sheepishly, as his mother followed up the punishment by a flow of speech
which sounded to the Twins much like the chattering of the monkey.  "Get
along with you!" she said finally, giving him a shove.

"Come," said Carlotta to the Twins when this little scene was over.
"Soldi grow only in the street," and, picking up the organ, she led the
way down the stairs.

The children were glad to follow, for they preferred the streets to such
a dwelling, and Giovanni, thinking it advisable to remain out of his
mother's sight for a while, followed them, carrying the monkey in his
arms.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

THREE WEEKS DRIFT BY.

All the rest of that day, and for many days after, the children followed
Carlotta through the maze of streets, dancing and singing in the piazzas
and the market-place, or anywhere else where crowds were gathered.
Giovanni, having nothing else to do, went with them much of the time,
and added his talents to the exhibition.  He could turn "cart-wheels"
until he looked like a real whirling wheel with only four spokes, and he
could walk on his hands.  He was glad to display these accomplishments,
for he liked being away from home, he liked Carina, and best of all he
liked the Twins.  The three became quite friendly, and Carlotta, seeing
this, smiled her sly smile, and winked knowingly at Giovanni's mother,
as though to say: "You see, they are getting used to their new way of
living.  Soon they will forget their old home, and I shall have no more
trouble with them."

Little by little the children came to know Venice better than they had
known Florence, which is not saying much, since in Florence they had so
completely lost themselves.  They could go from Giovanni's house to the
Rialto, the largest of the three bridges which span the Grand Canal, and
find their way through the maze of streets to the beautiful Piazza of
San Marco.  They liked best to go there, not only because it is the most
beautiful spot in Venice, not even because it is said to be the finest
piazza in the world, but also because the flocks of pigeons flying about
in clouds, and lighting upon their shoulders, made them think of their
own little garden in Florence.

Carlotta liked the piazza because it was the best place in Venice to
gather in the soldi.  There were always tourists in the square, walking
about with guide-books in their hands, and reading passages about its
history aloud to one another.  Indeed, there was no end to the wonderful
things in that famous square.  There was the Church of San Marco itself,
with its beautiful mosaics and the four splendid bronze horses over the
entrance.  There was the magnificent Ducal Palace, packed full of
thrilling stories of past splendour; and, back of it, spanning the
canal, the "Bridge of Sighs," which led from the palace to a dark prison
on the other side.  On the day she first saw that, Beppina shed tears,
thinking of all the unhappy prisoners who had passed over the bridge
never to return.  She knew how prisoners felt.

Giovanni tried to comfort her.  "Don't you fret about them," he said.
"They're as dead as they can be, all of 'em, and in purgatory or a worse
place, and you can't get 'em out no matter how hard you pray.  Come on;
let's go look at the clock."

Beppina knew that Carlotta would be angry if they lingered, but still
she crossed herself and murmured a hurried "Our Father" for the poor
prisoners, on the chance of its helping them, before she ran back to
Beppo and Giovanni.  She found them standing before the great
clock-tower which rose above a high gateway over the street.  It was
almost noon, and a crowd had gathered to see the clock strike the hour.
There was always a group waiting there on the hour, for this was no
ordinary clock.  The children watched with breathless interest as two
bronze giants on the platform high above their heads suddenly lifted
their arms and struck a huge bell twelve times, then relapsed into
bronze statues again.  Giovanni told the Twins that at Christmas-time
the Three Wise Men came out of the clock and bowed before the Madonna
and Child.  The Twins thought this could be nothing else than a miracle,
but Giovanni, who was wise beyond his years, said it was just works in
the clock's insides.  "It's no more a miracle than a stomach-ache inside
of you," he explained.

There was no time for further revelations on the day this happened, for
at that moment Carlotta called them.  She was afraid the crowd would
disperse before she had coaxed money from their pockets.  Every moment
that they were not dancing or singing, the children wandered about this
magic place, where in every direction they looked there were wonderful
stories in bronze, marble, or mosaic.  One could stay there a year and
not begin to know them all.  If it rained, they took refuge under the
arcade of the Ducal Palace or in the quiet interior of the Church of San
Marco itself.  Sometimes they could even step in and pray before the
altar.  Their prayers were always the same, that the Holy Virgin and
Saint Anthony, the special guide of those who were lost, would take care
of them and bring them safely again to their Babbo and Mammina and their
lovely home.

Many days passed in this way, and it was the middle of May before the
children ever rode in a boat, for though Giovanni's father had a
gondola, it was his business to take passengers about Venice just like a
cab-driver in our own cities, and he did not use it for pleasure rides
for Giovanni and his friends.

Then one afternoon when they returned from singing in the piazza, they
found Luigi waiting to show Carlotta the boat which he had bought with
the money he received for the donkeys and the van.  It was not a
gondola, but a _sandalo_, a large row-boat, with a pair of oars, suited
to carry either passengers or freight.


"The weather is warm now," said Luigi to Carlotta; "the tourists are
already lingering on the canals for pleasure in the evenings, and I
believe we should do well to let the children go about with me in the
boat to sing."

Though they were weary from dancing and singing all day in the streets,
it would be far pleasanter to drift about on the canal in the evening
than to spend it tossing about on the husk mattresses in Giovanni's
squalid house, and the children listened with eager attention to
Carlotta's reply.

"As you like," she said, shrugging her shoulders; and that very evening
the plan was carried out.  Luigi rowed the boat slowly about on the
Grand Canal, and the sweet voices of the children, floating out over the
still waters, attracted the gondolas about them, and many soldi were
flung to the singers.

As the weather grew warmer, the evenings on the canal grew longer and
longer.  Sometimes the gondolas would join together in long chains and
float about in the moonlight with every one joining in the singing.  On
festival nights there were Chinese lanterns in every prow, and the
boats, flitting about over the water, looked like giant fireflies at
play.

In this way three weeks drifted by, and at last it was June, and still
the children had made no progress toward freedom.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

BEPPO HAS A PLAN.

One day, when they had just finished a performance in the piazza and
were allowed to wander for a few moments by themselves, Beppo drew
Beppina to the water's edge, and, looking up at the winged lion of Saint
Mark's, said to her, "Do you remember what Carlotta said about having to
have a boat, a railroad ticket, or wings to get out of Venice?"

Beppina remembered very well.

"The wings on that lion made me think of it," said Beppo, "and I've
thought of something else too.  There's another thing you need, and
that's brains!  I've got those, and I'm going to get out of this
water-soaked old place or die in the attempt!"

"Oh, Beppo," breathed Beppina, "how?"

"I've got it all planned," said Beppo.

"I guess Saint Anthony must have put it into your head," sighed Beppina,
"for he takes care of all the lost people.  Anyway, you haven't thought
of anything before."

"I thought of this my own self," said Beppo, rather resentfully.

"Well," said Beppina, clasping her hands, "you think, and I'll pray.
I'm going to begin a novena.  I'll pray hard to Saint Anthony every day
for nine days, and ask him to please, please guide us!  I'm going to
begin right now."  She crossed herself and began moving her lips in
prayer, but got no farther than "Blessed Saint Anthony," when Beppo
nudged her with his elbow.

"Stop it!" he whispered, "here comes the old cat."  (He meant Carlotta.)
"Don't you let her catch you praying to Saint Anthony, or she'll know
what we're up to.  You can pray like fury, but say your prayers in your
heart, and then some night if I wake you up, you just keep as still as a
mouse and follow me."

Carlotta reached them just then and ordered them to go with her back to
the Cathedral to sing, and all that day there was no chance for Beppo to
explain his great idea.  Beppina caught him many times with his forehead
all snarled up as if he were trying to think how much 9 times 7 was, or
something hard like that, but just what he had in mind she could not
guess.

That night when they were out in the boat, Beppo asked Luigi if he might
try to row it home, and Luigi, being willing to loaf whenever it was
possible, said he might.  Beppo did so well that night that on the next
Luigi allowed him to row as well as sing, and very soon Beppo came to
know his way about the Grand Canal better than he knew the
multiplication-table--oh, much better!

At last one night, after they had gone to bed, Beppo lay still for a
long time, until he was sure that every one else in the room was asleep.
Then he quietly woke Beppina, and the two slid from their mattresses to
the floor.  Here they waited a moment, for the husks rattled a little,
and then, as no one stirred, they moved stealthily to the door, carrying
their shoes in their hands.  They had slept in their clothes, for they
still wore the ones Carlotta had given them, and had not seen their own
since the day she had made them change in the van.

They almost suffocated with fright as they opened the door, for it
creaked and they feared the monkey would begin to chatter, but Carina
was tired, too, and slept as soundly as the rest.  In a moment they had
quietly closed it behind them, and were feeling their way in the dark,
down the stairs and through the passage at the bottom to the canal
entrance of the house, where Mario and Luigi kept their oars.  Beppo had
noted carefully when they came in just where Luigi had placed his, and,
feeling cautiously along the wall with his hands, was able to locate
them in the dark.  He gave his shoes to his sister, took down the oars,
and managed to get them to the door without knocking anything over or
dropping them on the stone floor.

Followed by Beppina, who was holding on to his coat and praying to Saint
Anthony under her breath, he reached the water entrance to the house,
and stood upon the landing.  Luigi's boat and Mario's gondola were both
tied to a red pole beside the entrance.  Beppo put one oar down on the
step, and with the other managed to reach the pointed prow of the boat,
and draw it to the step.  Then he leaped in, helped Beppina in with the
shoes, took the other oar into the boat with him, and, untying the rope
which fastened it to the pole, shot out into the stream.

There was a scraping noise as the boat swung against the landing-step,
and Beppo used the oar to push it away.  There was also the rattling of
the oar-locks, as he backed round and glided out into the canal, but
though he was nearly dead with excitement and fright, Beppo kept his
head.  Never had he managed the boat so well.  It slid through the water
like a fish.  They had gone two or three hundred feet and reached the
point where the smaller waterway opened into the Grand Canal, when
Beppina was appalled to see the dim outline of another boat a little
distance behind them.  "They're following!" she gasped.  "Oh, Beppo,
hurry!"

Beppo bent to his oars and the boat fairly shot through the water!  On
and on they sped, past the great palaces now dark and grim in starlight,
past the market-place, round the great curve of the canal, and soon to
their great relief the black boat was no longer following.

"Do you suppose it was Luigi?" gasped Beppina.

"No," said Beppo, "he couldn't possibly have got after us so quickly,
because I untied Mario's gondola too.  It would drift away far enough so
Luigi would have to swim to get it, and he couldn't do it in this time,
I know.  Maybe it was a police boat, or maybe it was some one going home
late.  Anyway, he wasn't after us, so I don't care who he was."

"Oh, Beppo, tell me your plan.  Where are we going?" begged Beppina.

"Keep still," growled Beppo; "the less noise we make the more chance
there is of our getting away."

Beppina crumpled up in the bottom and said no more, while Beppo made the
boat skim on over the dark waters.  At last he turned the prow toward
shore and touched at a dock where many boats were already moored.  There
was no sign of life about the place, as they disembarked.  There was
only the soft lapping of the water to break the silence.

"Stoop down," whispered Beppo.  "These are the boats that cross over to
Mestre on the mainland before daylight to bring fruit and vegetables
back to market, and it may be that some of the men sleep in the boats.
We might wake them."

For a few moments they listened, crouching down on the dock, and then,
as they heard no sound, Beppo gave the sandalo a shove away from shore,
and let go the rope.

"Oh," whispered Beppina, "why did you do that?"

"We don't want it any more," answered Beppo, "and if they find it,
they'll think we fell out and were drowned.  Then they won't look for
us."

"Oh, Beppo," said Beppina, "what a wonderful boy you are!"

"I've been planning this a long time," Beppo answered, with a little of
his old swagger; "but we aren't out of our troubles yet."

They crept along the dock on their hands and knees until they came to
one of the largest flat-bottomed boats in the fleet.  Here Beppo paused,
and, after carefully examining to be sure it was the one he was looking
for, he helped Beppina aboard, and climbed in after her.  There was a
pile of empty baskets and boxes at one end of the boat, and behind these
the children hid themselves to wait for dawn.  For a long time they
crouched there, listening to the thumping of their own hearts, and the
lap-lap-lapping of the water, and at last, completely exhausted with
fatigue and fright, curled up on the floor of the boat and fell sound
asleep.

CHAPTER NINE.

THE ESCAPE.


Beppo awoke next morning in the early dawn, and, forgetting where he
was, stretched his cramped legs.  In doing so he kicked over a basket,
which fell on Beppina.  Beppina instantly sat up, and, blinking with
sleep, said quite loudly, "Where are we?"  She might well ask, for
there, directly in front of her, pulling stoutly at a pair of oars, sat
a short, thick-set man with brown skin and rings in his ears.  The level
rays of the sun, just rising over Venice, shone full upon his
weather-beaten face and astonished eyes, as he gazed at the apparition
before him.  Just then Beppo's head appeared beside his sister's, and
the man, overcome with astonishment, "caught a crab" and splashed both
children with water before he burst into speech.

"Madonna mia!" he cried, "am I bewitched?  How in the name of all the
saints in paradise did you get into this boat?  You weren't in it when I
left the dock!"

"Oh, yes, we were," said Beppo.  "We were behind the baskets."

"But what are you here for?" demanded the man.

"We want to go to Mestre," said Beppo.

The man regarded them suspiciously.  "Do your folks know where you are?"
he asked.

"No," said Beppo.  "That's why we are here.  We want to get back to
them."

Beppina interrupted.  "We were stolen away by gypsies," she said.

Then, still staring at them, the man asked, "Where are you from?"

"From Florence," Beppo answered.

The man threw back his head and laughed.  "That's a likely story!" he
roared.  "From Florence!  Ha, Ha!  Very good, per Bacco!  You are indeed
clever liars!  You are a pair of naughty little runaways, that's what
you are, and if I had time I'd take you straight back to Venice now!  As
it is, I'll wait until I get my load, and then back you go, and I hope
you'll get a good spanking into the bargain."

The children said nothing.  They couldn't; they were crushed.  But
during the rest of the journey Beppo thought as he had never thought in
his life before, while Beppina prayed fervently under her breath.
During the weeks that they had been so closely watched by Carlotta,
Beppina had grown almost to read Beppo's thoughts, so when he furtively
took her hand, lifted one eyebrow, and jerked his head in the direction
of Mestre, she knew he meant to try to go forward no matter what
happened.

They were now nearly across the lagoon and approaching the harbour.
Early as it was, the water was already swarming with craft of all
descriptions, for Venice has to get all her supplies from the mainland,
and many boats are required for the traffic.  There was consequently a
great deal of shouting back and forth as the men jockeyed for the best
positions at the dock.  Their own brown boatman was so busy bawling at
his competitors and shunting about that for a few moments he was unable
to pay any attention to the children.  At last, however, he crowded in
between two other boats, and while he was explaining to their owners
that they were the sons of pigs to take up so much room, Beppo seized
his sister by the arm, and the two leaped into the next boat, from that
to a third, and then to the dock; and before their captor realised they
were gone, they were already speeding frantically up the dock.

"Stop them!  Stop them!" howled the boatman, climbing out and starting
in pursuit.

Two or three other men joined him, shouting, "Stop!  Stop!" too, but
their calls only lent speed to the flying feet of the runaways.  They
did not know where they were going, but they ran as rabbits run when the
dogs are after them, and soon found themselves in the streets of the
town.  The cries of their pursuers grew fainter, and were lost
altogether as Beppo suddenly dashed into a side street and they doubled
on their tracks.

From a safe hiding-place behind an old building in an alley they caught
a glimpse of their pursuers as they turned back to the boats, talking
volubly and gesticulating like windmills.  They were telling the boatman
who had brought the children over what they thought of him for getting
them into such a wild-goose chase.  Beppo actually chuckled as he
watched them go, so great was his relief.

"Now, Beppina," he said, almost gayly, "we'll hurry to the other end of
the town as fast as we can go, and get something to eat.  I've got ten
soldi in my pocket that I picked up when Luigi wasn't looking, and I'm
as hungry as a bear.  They won't follow us any more, but we'll keep out
of sight until the shops are open, anyway."

For an hour or more they wandered quietly about, through the by-ways of
the town, until they found a small bake-shop on an unfrequented street;
and when an old woman appeared and took down the shutters, they went in
and boldly asked for bread and cheese.  The woman eyed them with some
curiosity, but asked no questions, and they got out as quickly as
possible and hid behind an empty house on the outskirts of the village
to eat their breakfast.


"I'm sure of one thing," said Beppo, as he munched his bread.  "I'm not
going to tell our story to any one after this.  People would only think
we were lying.  We'll find our own way to the villa, and earn our money
as we go along.  Padua is only about thirty miles from here, anyway."

"Oh, Beppo," said Beppina, much impressed, "how did you know that?"

"Geography," said Beppo proudly.  "You remember how I knew about Ravenna
and Rimini, and, besides, the other day I asked a tourist to let me see
the map in the guidebook.  Padua is almost straight west from here.  We
can go away from the sun in the morning and toward it in the afternoon,
and we can't help running into it.  We'll dance in the villages as we go
along, and when we get to Padua it will be easy enough to find the
villa."

Beppina had some secret doubts.  She remembered how sure Beppo was about
finding his way in Florence, but she didn't say a word.  She was willing
to take any risk if only they could keep out of the clutches of
Carlotta.

"Do you suppose they are hunting for us in Venice?" she asked.

"I shouldn't wonder," answered her brother, glancing at the sun.  Then
he chuckled, "I'll bet they're mad!  I hope they'll never find their old
boats!"

"Let's get away from here as fast as we can," urged Beppina.  "They
might follow us, or they might send word to the police."

"That's true," said Beppo.  "We can't be too careful."

They had finished their breakfast by this time, and, taking their
direction from the sun, set forth at once toward the west.  Soon they
were out among the suburbs.  Then they passed stately villas owned by
wealthy Venetians, and beyond that came into open country.  It was much
easier walking than it had been in the mountains, for the land was
level, or gently rolling, the villages were near together, and the
highways well travelled.  Moreover, they had been hardened to much
walking by their weeks of constant practice, and were able to trot along
the road at a good rate of speed.

At noon they reached a village, and here they decided to replenish their
little hoard of money, so, making their way to the piazza, they
surrounded themselves with a crowd for whom they danced the trescone and
sang themselves hoarse.  They were just gathering up the few coins that
were thrown to them, when Beppo saw a policeman approaching, and, not
wishing to take any chances, the two children instantly disappeared like
smoke down a side street, and out into the highway once more.

By supper-time they had covered ten miles, and when night overtook them,
they were in open farming country, surrounded by olive orchards,
vineyards, and cornfields.  In a field beside the road they came upon a
straw-stack, and, hiding themselves on the farther side of it, they ate
the bread and ham which they had bought on the way, and then, pulling
the straw down over them for covering, slept peacefully until morning.

CHAPTER TEN.

HOME AGAIN.

The next day and the next passed in much the same way.  They danced and
sang in the villages to earn their bread, and then passed out again to
the highway, where there were sign-posts to guide them, or they could
ask directions from fellow travellers.  One night they passed in an
olive orchard, under a spreading tree.  Another was spent under the
protection of a wayside shrine.

When he awoke in the morning, Beppo found his sister kneeling before the
shrine.  She turned a beaming face upon him as he opened his eyes.

"Oh, Beppo mio," she said, "I haven't forgotten once, and this is the
ninth day!  I've made my novena!  I'm almost sure the blessed Saint
Anthony means to get us to Padua this very day.  If he does, I think I
shall die of joy."

"What would be the good of that?"  Beppo inquired, practically.  Then he
added, "Anyway, I think it'll be very mean if he doesn't, after all the
praying you've done, and all my thinking too."

They ate a hasty bite of bread beside the shrine, then trudged on, and,
before the morning was over, actually found themselves passing through
the beautiful gardens which surround the city of Padua.  They entered it
from the east by the Porta di' Pontecorbo, walked a short distance along
a wide street, crossed a canal, and, turning to the left, saw rising
before them from a great open piazza the huge church of Saint Anthony of
Padua, crowned by its six domes and many spires.  It was as if they had
known every inch of the way, so directly had they come.

The bells of the church were pealing joyfully, and the square was full
of people, all going toward the church, for it was the festa of Saint
Anthony, though the children did not know it.

Passers-by glanced curiously at the two queer, forlorn little figures,
but no one spoke to them, and they stood for a moment uncertain what to
do, or in what direction to go, when suddenly Beppina gave a shriek of
joy, and, springing forward, threw her arms about a tall, stern-looking
woman in a nurse's ruff and streamers who was hurrying toward the church
carrying an immense loaf of bread in her hand.

"Teresina!" screamed Beppina.

The woman looked at the child in blank astonishment, but it was not
until she saw Beppo that the light of recognition dawned in her face.
Then, dropping the bread and falling upon her knees, she engulfed both
ragged, dirty children in a wide embrace.

"Oh, thanks be to God, the blessed Virgin, and Saint Anthony, you are
found again!" she cried, her eyes streaming tears and her tongue prayers
of thanksgiving at the same time.  "I was just on my way to offer this
bread at the shrine of the blessed Saint, and pray, as I have prayed
daily since you were lost, that you might be found again!  And here
before I have even been to the church at all, the blessed Saint has
heard my prayers, and you rise up before me as if out of the ground.  It
is a miracle!  Ah, Madonna mia! what tears the Signora has wept for you!
And the Signore your father, he has not slept for seeking you!  Come,
come--do not delay!  We must send word to the villa at once that they
may come running to meet you even as his father met the prodigal son."

Her tongue ran so fast that the children had no chance to ask questions.
A crowd now gathered about them, and when Teresina had explained the
cause of the excitement and joy, sympathetic bystanders rushed to send
word to the villa, seven miles away, and to spread the good news that
the children of the Marchese Grifoni, for whom the police had been
searching every town in Italy for two months, had now appeared in Padua.

"It is not for nothing that Saint Anthony is the patron saint of all who
suffer loss," said the pious ones, and many a candle was gratefully
offered on his shrine that day.

When her joy had a little subsided, Teresina gazed with horror at the
Twins.  They were indeed a terrifying spectacle.  Ragged, thin,
encrusted with dirt, with their toes sticking through their worn-out
shoes, it is no wonder that she did not at once recognise the children
of the Marchese.  Grasping them by the hands as if she would never again
let them go, Teresina hurried them toward the Hotel Due Croci Bianche,
which opened upon the square, followed by crowds of interested
spectators.  The landlord himself, when the news reached him, came out
to greet the wanderers and conduct them to a room.

Teresina went with them, giving orders right and left as she flew down
the long corridor.

"It is for the Marchese Grifoni!" she cried to the bewildered servants,
as she hustled the children before her to the bath.  "Bring soap, bring
towels, bring food, and for the love of Saint Anthony keep the wires hot
to the villa.  Never mind the cost, for the lost is found.  They will
reward you well.  Tell them, for the love of Heaven, to bring clothes
for the Signorina and Don Beppo, and hurry, hurry, hurry!"

Then she shut the door upon her charges, and the process of purification
began.  She rang the bell furiously a few moments later, and, opening
the door a crack, handed the servant who answered it a bundle, hastily
wrapped in newspaper.

"Their clothes," she said briefly.  "The Marchesa must not see them.
Burn them at once!"

For one hour or more she scrubbed and shampooed, and all but boiled the
wanderers alive in her frantic efforts to get them clean before their
mother should be able to reach them.

At last a carriage, drawn by a pair of steaming black horses, dashed up
to the hotel, and the beautiful Marchesa, pale but radiant, sprang out
and, attended by the landlord himself, hurried to the room where her
lost ones waited to embrace her!  Teresina opened the door, and,
stepping into the hall, left the mother and children together with no
human eye to see that meeting!  Red-eyed herself, and wiping her nose
vigorously on her apron, she went down to tell the footman all the news,
and to get the bundle of clothes for the children, which in the haste
and excitement had been left in the carriage.

An hour later, the Marchesa and two very clean and happy children came
out of the hotel, followed by Teresina.  The coachman, grinning, as
Teresina said, "like a cracked melon," greeted the children as if he
were an old friend, and the Marchesa, standing in her carriage,
scattered tips with a lavish hand.  They drove away with the landlord
bowing from the doorway, and the crowd shouting vivas as long as the
carriage was in sight.

It was a long drive over beautiful, winding roadways to the villa, and
every inch of the way the Marchesa sat with her arms clasped about her
darlings telling them of their father, who was still in Florence
conducting the search, of the baby, who had six teeth and was fat as
butter, and hearing from them the tale of their adventures, while
Teresina beamed at them from the opposite seat.

At last they rounded a well-remembered curve in the road, and there,
shining down on them from the summit of a hill overlooking the village,
was their own white, vine-covered villa.  The children shouted with joy
when they saw it, and Beppina threw a kiss.

Then they heard a great shouting down the road.  All the village had
come out to greet the children of their beloved Marchesa.  Old and
young, they swarmed about the carriage, shouting "Ben trovati," which
means "Welcome," and tossing flowers at the feet of the returned
travellers.  Ah, what a happy time it was!

At last the carriage stood before the loggia of the villa, and when his
old dog, barking with joy, came bounding out to meet them, Beppo, who
had been dry-eyed and brave through all the dreadful weeks, buried his
head in Tonio's shaggy fur and gave way to tears.

After the baby had been kissed, and the servants greeted, and all the
dear, familiar places visited once more, it was time for supper, and,
oh, what a supper it was!  The cook, the moment the wonderful news had
reached the villa, had flown to the kitchen, and there she had cooked
all their favourite dishes.  There were artichokes for Beppina, and
_stufato_ for Beppo, and a cake as soft and light as thistle-down for
dessert.  In the evening they received a telegram of welcome from their
dear Babbo in Florence, for the good news had been flashed across the
wires to him and all the servants in the Grifoni palace were rejoicing
too.

When bedtime came, instead of lying down upon straw, or a husk mattress,
the Twins had their own mother to tuck them in their own white beds in
their own dear, clean rooms, and then to sing them to sleep as she had
done when they were little, little children.

Long after they were safe in dreamland, the Marchesa lingered beside
their beds, and then, throwing herself upon her knees before the image
of the Madonna in her own room, she poured out her grateful heart in
thanksgiving to that other Mother who had lived and suffered too.

APPENDIX.

SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS.

The citizens of America are one and all the descendants of immigrants,
and they must never lose their sympathy with the things that are best in
foreign lands.  Italy has sent us hundreds of thousands of new citizens;
and these people and their children are among the most loyal Americans.
Between the United States and Italy there has been a long friendship,
without mistrust and without strife.  This is because the national
ideals of the United States and of Italy are so much alike, and because
each country possesses a great, industrious, peace-loving population.
In America, the Italians "find an opportunity to go forward in those
paths which most warmly appeal to them, and which they can follow with
no breach of tradition, no break of affections, no sundering of ancient
and beloved ties."  Italy, like us, has her great national heroes--
Garibaldi, Mazzini, and Cavour, to mention only a few--whose deeds may
well inspire our people.  Italy's music, art, and literature are
priceless possessions which are adding richness to our American
civilisation.

"Americanisation" in its best sense is the need of the hour; but this
word means not alone the converting of the foreign-born into voters in
this country, but also the fusing of their highest ideals into our own.
Teachers can use _The Italian Twins_ as the earliest introduction to
Italian homes and ways, and can build up from the impression it makes
upon children, a full appreciation of the sterling qualities of the
Italian people.

_The Italian Twins_ can also be correlated with American government
through the use by teachers of Webster's _Americanisation and
Citizenship_; pupils can read Bryant's _I Am an American_.  History can
be correlated through the reading, either to the pupils or by them, of
Tappan's _Story of the Roman People, Our European Ancestors_, and
_American Hero Stories_; also Moores's _Christopher Columbus_ and
Stevenson's _Poems of American History_.  Italian art is well
illustrated by several volumes in the _Riverside Art Series_, and in
Hurll's _How to Show Pictures to Children_.

For a background of Italian history teachers are referred to Davis's
_History of Mediaeval and Modern Europe_ and to Sedgwick's _Short
History of Italy_.  Certain aspects of Italian literature are introduced
through Kuhns's _Great Poets of Italy_ and Crane's _Italian Popular
Tales_.  Numerous books interpret Italian life and manners; for example,
Hawthorne's _French and Italian Note-Books_, Forman's _The Ideal Italian
Tour_, Potter's _A Little Pilgrimage in Italy_, James's _Italian Hours_,
and Howells's _Italian Journeys_.

Pupils will delight in reading "The Buried Treasure," in the _Riverside
Fourth Reader_; "An Italian Boy at School" (De Amicis), in Bolenius's
_Sixth Reader (The Boys' and Girls' Readers_); and the play,
"Christopher Columbus," in Stevenson's _Children's Classics in Dramatic
Form_, Book III.

Earlier books in the Twins Series contain many other specific
suggestions which teachers can readily adapt to the present story.