gazing down the valley, his cheeks resting on his hands. Daphne,
stealing behind a giant ilex, studied him. He wore something
that looked like a golf suit of brownish shade; a soft felt hat
drooped over his face. The girl peered out from her hiding place
cautiously, holding her skirts together to make herself slim and
small. It was a choice of evils. On this side of the hill was a
man; on that, the whole wide world, pathless. She was hopelessly
lost.

"No bad man could whistle like that," thought Daphne, caressingly
touching with her cheek the tree that protected her.

Once she ventured from her refuge, then swiftly retreated.
Courage returning, she stepped out on tiptoe and crept softly
toward the intruder. She was rehearsing the Italian phrases she
meant to use.

"Where is Rome?" she asked pleadingly, in the Roman tongue.

The stranger rose, with no sign of being startled, and removed
his hat. Then Daphne sighed a great sigh of relief, feeling that
she was safe.

"Rome," he answered, in a voice both strong and sweet, "Rome has
perished, and Athens too."

"Oh"--said the girl. "You speak English. If you are not a
stranger here, perhaps you can tell me where the Villa Accolanti
is."