It was getting late. The sun was half-way below the horizon. The sky was flaming with golden light, which glanced dreamily through the hazy atmosphere. Every thing was toned down to soft beauty. Of course it was the season for lovers and lovers' vows. Pepita walked a little more slowly to oblige Dick. She uttered an occasional murmur at their slow progress, but still did not seem eager to quicken her pace. Every step was taken unwillingly by Dick, who wanted to prolong the happy time.
Pepita's voice was the sweetest in the world, and her soft Italian sounded more musically that that language had ever sounded before. She seemed happy, and by many little signs showed that her companion was not indifferent to her. At length Dick ventured to offer his arm. She rested her hand on it very gently, and Dick tremulously took it in his. The little hand fluttered for a few minutes, and then sank to rest.
The sun had now set. Evening in Italy is far different from what it is in northern latitudes. There it comes on gently and slowly, sometimes prolonging its presence for hours, and the light will be visible until very late. In Italy, however, it is short and abrupt. Almost as soon as the sun disappears the thick shadows come swiftly on and cover every thing. It was so at this time. It seemed but a moment after sunset, and yet every thing was growing indistinct. The clumps of trees grew black; the houses and walls of the city behind all faded into a mass of gloom. The stars shone faintly. There was no moon.
"I will be very late to-night," said Pepita, timidly.
"But are you much later than usual?"
"Oh, very much!"
"There is no danger, is there? But if there is you are safe. I can protect you. Can you trust me?"
"Yes," said Pepita, in a low voice.
It was too dark to see the swiftly-changing color of Pepita's face as Dick murmured some words in her ear. But her hand trembled violently as Dick held it. She did not say a word in response. Dick stood still for a moment and begged her to answer him. She made an effort and whispered some indistinct syllables. Whereupon Dick called her by every endearing name that he could think of, and--Hasty footsteps! Exclamations! Shouts! They were surrounded! Twelve men or more-- stout, strong fellows, magnified by the gloom. Pepita shrieked.
"Who are you?" cried Dick. "Away, or I'll shoot you all. I'm armed."