When he had talked over the sheep-trade a little with the coachman they
parted, and the dealer made a sign to Rico that he should follow him.

After a short walk, the man entered an inn, where he seated himself in a
corner of the eating-room with the boy beside him.

"Now let us look at your possessions," he said to Rico, "so that we can
see what they will allow you to have. Where are you going on the lake?"

"To Peschiera, on the Lake of Garda."

This was Rico's never-failing answer. He drew out his money from his
pocket,--a nice little pile of small coins it was, and the big silver
bit on the top of all.

"Have you only that one bit of silver?" asked the dealer.

"Yes; only that one. You gave me that," replied the boy.

It pleased the man to think that he was the only one who had given
silver; and he was also pleased that the lad was aware of the fact. He
felt as if he wanted to give him something more. Just at this moment his
supper was placed before him, and the kindly man nodded to his little
companion, saying, "I will pay for this, and for your night's lodging
also; so you need not touch your little fortune until to-morrow."

Rico was so tired out with all the fiddling and singing, and the long
journey, that he could scarcely eat; and as soon as he reached the big
bedroom where he was to pass the night with his protector, he was asleep
the moment he had put his head on the pillow.