middle height, and of rather slender make, but had broad square shoulders and long arms. A thin brown moustache, curled down into an equally thin beard, which covered the lower part of his face. But it was the eye that gave character to the demeanour, and stamped expression upon the whole person.

Sunken beneath projecting brows, it appeared literally to blaze, and the scowl with which he examined Paul and Nando made the former uncomfortable but yet indignant.

His companion and Nando gave each other the "buon dì" in passing, but the other, with his arms folded, neither made nor answered the salutation; but after they had passed, he suddenly called out to Nando, in a voice that perfectly corresponded with his looks, so much was there in it of the sneer and the féroce,

"So you are going to see la bella Cecca, I suppose

?"

"I am," said Nando, stopping short, while the colour flushed to his olive cheek; "pray have you any objection ?"

"No-no,” said the other, with a curl of his lip. He added in an undertone which Paul's ear fortunately only caught, "Not at present," and passed on down the mountain.

Nando stopped until they were lost among the trees, and then with his eyes bent on the ground, continued his own path with Paul by his side.

"Who are they?" the youth inquired, after a pause.

"One of them," answered Nando, "is a paesano, a peasant, a good-natured fellow enough, though he will not be improved by the company he keeps; the other is the son of a bandito who was very famous, or rather infamous, in these parts, and whose name -Arancio-is execrated as widely as it is known. His father was shot by the voltigeurs Corses—the Corsican rangers-two summers ago, and his son, Arancino, as he is called, has done nothing since in the way of honest labour. He is evidently nursing his revenge, and I fear runs a good chance of meeting the same death as his father. He and I are not on the best of terms, for he was known to have cast eyes upon Francesca. But her friends of course would have nothing to say to him, and she is now, as I may say, my property. But see, there is the fattoria upon the hill yonder: this short cut will soon take us to it."

Paul had observed a change in the aspect of the land since his friend had begun speaking. Patches of corn, which looked fresh and green, though growing but scantily, clumps of mulberry-trees, interspersed with olives, and a field or two of maize, indicated the approach to a dwelling and the labour of men's hands. Up one side of a hill also appeared the stunted vine stocks, and there were positively two men engaged at work in the midst of them. More than that, just above the brow of the hill peeped a long dark-red roof and the

top of a conical haystack with a pole sticking out

of the apex.

The short cut alluded to by Nando was not the easiest to traverse, and now that he was near his destination, he went at such a pace that Paul, active as he was, had much ado to keep up with him.

On he sped, over rock and through briar, in a zig-zag course, which led round a projecting arm of the hill, until reaching a tree, he caught hold of a jutting branch, and swinging himself round it, disappeared as if by magic.

When Paul arrived at the spot, he found that he was on the steep brink of a rivulet some ten feet wide, which Nando must have leaped to reach the opposite bank. Not being quite so confident of his own powers of saltation, he preferred climbing up a little higher, and then descending to a level space, where a bridge of planks crossed the brook for the convenience of those who did not choose to risk their legs or necks in going to visit their friends; and as he reached the opposite side, he came in sight of the fattoria or farmhouse, and his friend Nando, who was busily engaged some fifty paces off in merry conversation with a damsel, whose glossy brown hair, without the slightest covering of kerchief or veil, reflected back the rays of the sun in a manner that was perfectly dazzling.

P

CHAPTER XX.

Francesca-A warlike priest―The parting-The storm— Mountain streams-Shelter-True kindness.

"AND how do you like Corsica ?"

The person who put this question to Paul was no other than Francesca, Nando's betrothed.

Paul in making an appropriate reply looked at his interrogator attentively, for his friend's glowing description had awakened his curiosity.

She was certainly very beautiful; but the youth for his own taste would have wished more of the refinement of the lady, and less of the robustness of the peasant. Her face of pure oval was of the clearest olive complexion, with brown eyes, and dark lashes. Her hair, parted in the centre, was brushed smoothly to her cheek, and sweeping over the ear, was braided into an endless mass of plaits behind a style of head-dress that accorded admirably with her straight nose and chiselled lips. The face, indeed, was faultless; but Paul, who remembered the delicate character of his mother's beauty, and who had a weakness for small hands and feet in women, was disappointed in this respect with Francesca, who, from her very occupations, could of

A WARLIKE PRIEST.

211

course not retain such peculiarities, even if Nature had supplied her with them in the first instance.

She seemed, however, devoted to Nando, and evidently looked up to him as a superior being, on account, perhaps, of his advantages of education and the decision of his character; and this fact raised her immensely in the estimation of Paul, who, as we have said, had conceived a great attachment for his chance companion.

The household consisted of Francesca's father and uncle, who were joint proprietors of the fattoria and farm; an old nurse, who had brought up the young girl, her mother having died in her infancy; and various farm servants, both male and female.

The usual Corsican open-heartedness and primitiveness of manners were visible here as at the Casone; for when they sat down to dinner, Paul found, in addition to all the members of the establishment, employers and employed, three chance visitors who, passing that way, had claimed the hospitality of the house.

One of these, a priest, who was on his way to his own parish in the very heart of the island, particularly excited Paul's attention. This worthy ecclesiastic was so used to his gun, and lived in a locality where its employment was so needed, that he at times actually went into the vestry with the carbine on his shoulders; and during one Lent, in the midst of a stormy period, Francesca's father assured our young friend that he preached his whole course of sermons with his pistols by his side.