reflection of its own kindliness.

'You are right,' replied Farina; 'so it is!'

'Pretty wines inside there, and a rare young maiden. She has a throat
like a nightingale, and more ballads at command than a piper's wallet.
Now, if I hadn't a wife at home.'

'You're married?' cried Farina, seizing the stranger's hand.

'Surely; and my lass can say something for herself on the score of brave
looks, as well as the best of your German maids here, trust me.'

Farina repressed an inclination to perform a few of those antics which
violent joy excites, and after rushing away and back, determined to give
his secret to the stranger.

'Look,' said he in a whisper, that opens the private doors of a
confidence.

But the stranger repeated the same word still more earnestly, and brought
Farina's eyes on a couple of dark figures moving under the Cathedral.

'Some lamb's at stake when the wolves are prowling,' he added: ''Tis now
two hours to the midnight. I doubt if our day's work be over till we
hear the chime, friend.'

'What interest do you take in the people of this house that you watch
over them thus?' asked Farina.