just on the point of paternally blessing them, when a rude pat aroused
him from the delicious moon-dream.

'Hero by day! house-guard by night! That tells a tale,' said a cheerful
voice.

The moon was shining down the Cathedral square and street, and Farina saw
the stranger standing solid and ruddy before him. He was at first
prompted to resent such familiar handling, but the stranger's face was of
that bland honest nature which, like the sun, wins everywhere back a
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.