“‘To Zlarin, pretty one? What should we do in Zlarin? Say rather that I shall take thee to the hut of Duka, and there get supper. Oh, we will have a merry supper, Christine! There is wine in the pack, and the meat which Dame Vitali cooked, and confections from the shop, and a lamp to light us and sheets for the bed. Madonna mia, I had thought of the hut often. It lies in the mountains like a kernel in a nut. It is the hut of Orio, the shepherd, and I have his word to take thee there. To-night we rest there; but to-morrow we go on, as I have promised thee, sweetheart.’
“‘And to-morrow you will bring me to the great city, Ugo?’
“‘To-morrow to the great city? Nay, little one, we had need of wings for that. It is many days’ journey beyond the mountains. Diamine, that thou shouldest be so simple!’
“His wondering word had no meaning for her. Accustomed to the narrow boundaries of the island, which were her only standards of distance, she had not conceived the possibility that she must ride for days and nights before she might enter the city of her hopes. His explanations added to her gloom. The silence of the valleys began to terrify her. Her limbs ached with the pressure of the saddle. The chill of evening struck her bones.
“‘When shall we come to the hut of Orio?’ she asked wearily, after many minutes had passed, and the silence between them had remained unbroken.
“‘Look,’ he answered her, ‘it is in yonder wood. Ten minutes more and we are safe, Christine.’
“Excellency, even as he spoke, there were soldiers in the valley below him.”
CHAPTER VI
IN THE HUT OF ORIO
“It was almost dark in the little forest of pines when Ugo jumped from his horse and knocked upon the door of the hut of Orio. The shepherd himself gave answer, coming out with a lantern in his hand and a pack upon his back. He and the lad were friends of the old time; and that spirit of mutuality which is the finest spirit of the poor, excellency, had led him to rejoice in the opportunity of so small a service.
“‘Olà, Ugo, is it thou? I have been waiting for thee since the Angelus. Cospetto, it should be a swift horse that carries a bride. Look, now, I am going to lie the night at Duka. What, thou wouldst have my company?—out on thee for a rogue!’