’May all good saints defend us!  What have you done, senor?  We have barely enough to live upon, and you bring two children!  I suppose I must beg from door to door, for you and for them.  And, for mercy’s sake, who are these children?  The sons of that brigand, gipsy, thief, murderer, perhaps!  I am sure they have never been baptised!’ At this moment the infant began to cry.  ’And pray, Senor Clerigo, how do you mean to feed that child?  You know very well that we have no means of paying a nurse.  We must spoon-feed it, and nice nights that will give me!  It cannot be more than six months old, poor little creature,’ she added, as her master placed it in her arms.  ’Fortunately, I have a little milk here;’ and forgetting her anger, she busied herself in putting some milk on the fire, and then sat down beside it to warm the infant, who seemed half-frozen.  Her master watched her in silence, and when at last he saw her kiss its little cheek, he turned away with a quiet smile.

When at length the little one had been hushed into a gentle slumber, and when Margarita, with the assistance of her master’s cloak, and some of her own clothes, had made a bed for the elder boy, and placed him in it, the good man told her how the children had been committed to his care, and the promise he had made, though not in words, to protect them.

‘That is very right and good, no doubt,’ said Margarita; ’I only want to know how we are all to live?’ The priest opened his Bible, and read aloud: 

’Whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water only in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward.’

‘Amen!’ said Margarita.

Twelve years passed by.  The parish priest of San Pietro, who was now more than seventy years old, was sitting in the sunshine at his door.  Near him, a boy of about twelve years old was reading aloud from the Bible, looking occasionally towards a tall, fine-looking young man, who was hard at work in a garden close by.  Margarita, who was now become blind, sat and listened.  Suddenly, the sound of wheels was heard, and the boy exclaimed:  ‘Oh! the beautiful carriage!’ A splendid carriage approached rapidly, and stopped before the door.  A richly-dressed servant approached, and asked for a cup of water for his master.

‘Carlos,’ said the priest to the younger boy, ’go, bring water to the gentleman; and add some wine, if he will accept it.  Go quickly!’ At this moment, the carriage-door opened, and a gentleman, apparently about fifty years old, alighted.

‘Are these your nephews?’ said he to the priest.

’They are more than that, senor; they are my children—­the children of my adoption.’

‘How is that?’

’I will tell you, senor; for I am old and poor, and know but little of the world, and am in much need of advice; for I know not what to do with these two children.’  He related the story we have just told.  ’And now, senor, what do you advise me to do?’