credit of the inn. Nanna thought Paoluccio much too fond of watching
her, as it was, and reflected that if she went to the city she would be
well out of the way, and might go to the devil if she pleased.

Regina's plan for taking Marcello was simple, like most plans which
succeed, and only depended for its success on being carried out
fearlessly.

The wine-carters usually came to the inn from the hills between nine and
eleven o'clock at night, and the carts, heavy-laden with wine casks,
stood in a line along the road, while the men went into the kitchen to
eat and drink. They generally paid for what they consumed by giving a
measure or two of wine from the casks they were bringing, and which they
filled up with water, a very simple plan which seems to have been in use
for ages. It has several advantages; the owner of the wine does not
suffer by it, since he gets his full price in town; the man who buys the
wine in Rome does not suffer, because he adds so much water to the wine
before selling it that a little more or less makes no difference; the
public does not suffer, as it is well known that wine is much better for
the health when drunk with plenty of water; and the carters do not
suffer, because nobody would think of interfering with them. Moreover,
they get food and drink for nothing.

While the men were having supper in the inn, their carts were guarded by
their little woolly dogs, black, white, or brown, and always terribly
wide-awake and uncommonly fierce in spite of their small size.

Now, just at this time, there was one carter who had none, and Regina
knew it, for he was one of her chief admirers. He was the
hardest-drinking ruffian of all the men who came and went on the