"Did you dream it? I saw no one. To be sure, my eyes weren't looking in that direction all the time, and I saw some striped skirts prowling about outside, which meant that some curious creatures had stolen into the garden. Can Mila have come in while my back was turned?"
"Why, this very instant, father, just as you came to the opening, someone went out, a woman; I am certain of it!"
"You are talking at random now, for I saw nothing but my shadow on the curtain. Come, you need a good nap, let us go home. They are just closing the last door. If your sister is here we shall find her."
Michel was about to follow his father; but as he was turning away he saw something glistening in the grotto and was led to cast a last glance inside. Was it a spark that had fallen on the carpet, near the couch? He stooped: it was a piece of jewelry, which he picked up and examined by daylight. It was the gold locket, surrounded with diamonds and bearing the princess's crest, which she had given Mila. He opened it to make sure that it was the same. He recognized a lock of his own hair inside.
"I knew that Mila came into the grotto," he said to his father, as they walked toward the garden; "she gave me a kiss which woke me."
"She evidently must have gone in there," rejoined Pier-Angelo, indifferently; "but I didn't see her."
At that instant Mila emerged from a clump of magnolias, and came forward, laughing and capering, to meet her father, whom she kissed affectionately, as she did Michel.
"It is high time for you to come home and rest," she said; "I came to tell you that your breakfast is waiting. I was so impatient to see you! Are you terribly tired, father, dear?"
"Not at all," the good man replied, "I am used to these things, and a sleepless night is all pleasure when you sup till morning. Your breakfast will go begging, Mila; but your brother here is asleep on his legs. Come, children; let us be off; see, they are closing the garden gates now."
But, instead of continuing to close the gates, the servants suddenly threw them wide open again, and Michel saw a procession of monks file in, monks of divers orders, all carrying wallets and purses; they were the begging brothers of all the mendicant orders, which have numerous establishments in Catania and its neighborhood. They were making their usual round and had come to collect for their respective communities the broken meat left from the fête. Some two score of them passed slowly through the gate; most of them had asses to carry away the avails of their quest. There was something so surprising and comical in their obsequious manner and their solemn bearing when they entered the gardens, escorted by their asses,—strange guests at a ball—that Michel, diverted from his emotion, had much ado to keep from laughing.