they were on the mule track to Scalea. They walked much faster than a
grown peasant would have done, and they knew the road. Instead of
turning to the left after going down the hill beyond the tower, they
took the right hand path to the Scalea river, and as it had not rained
they got across without getting very wet. But that road is not so good
as the one to Diamante, because the river is sometimes swollen, and
people with laden mules have to wait even as much as three days before
they can try the ford, and moreover there is bad air there, which
brings fever.

At last they struck the long beach and began to trudge through the sand.

"And what shall we do to-morrow?" asked Sebastiano.

Ruggiero was whistling loudly to show his younger brother that he was
not tired nor afraid of anything. At the question he stopped suddenly,
and faced the blazing blue sea.

"We can go to America," he said, after a moment's reflection.

Little Sebastiano did not seem at all surprised by the proposition, but
he remained in deep thought for some moments, stamping up a little
hillock of sand between his bare feet.

"We are not old enough to be married yet," he remarked at last.

"That is true," admitted Ruggiero, reluctantly.

Possibly, the close connection between going to America and being
married may not be apparent to the poor untutored foreign mind. It would