“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.