“She is one of us,” he pursued; “a daughter of Italy!  My daughter also; is it not so?”

He turned to her as for a confirmation.  The signorina pressed his fingers.  She was a little intimidated, and for the moment seemed shy and girlish.  The shade of her broad straw hat partly concealed her vivid features.

“Now, gentlemen, if you please, the number is complete, and we may proceed to business,” said Agostino, formally but as he conducted the signorina to place her at the feet of the Chief, she beckoned to her servant, who was holding the animal she had ridden.  He came up to her, and presented himself in something of a military posture of attention to her commands.  These were that he should take the poor brute to water, and then lead him back to Baveno, and do duty in waiting upon her mother.  The first injunction was received in a decidedly acquiescent manner.  On hearing the second, which directed his abandonment of his post of immediate watchfulness over her safety, the man flatly objected with a “Signorina, no.”

He was a handsome bright-eyed fellow, with a soldier’s frame and a smile as broad and beaming as laughter, indicating much of that mixture of acuteness, and simplicity which is a characteristic of the South, and means no more than that the extreme vivacity of the blood exceeds at times that of the brain.

A curious frown of half-amused astonishment hung on the signorina’s face.

“When I tell you to go, Beppo!”

At once the man threw out his fingers, accompanied by an amazingly voluble delivery of his reasons for this revolt against her authority.  Among other things, he spoke of an oath sworn by him to a foreign gentleman, his patron,—­for whom, and for whomsoever he loved, he was ready to pour forth his heart’s blood,—­to the effect that he would never quit her side when she left the roof of her house.

“You see, Beppo,” she remonstrated, “I am among friends.”

Beppo gave a sweeping bow, but remained firm where he stood.  Ammiani cast a sharp hard look at the man.

“Do you hear the signorina’s orders?”

“I hear them, signore.”

“Will you obey them?”

She interposed.  “He must not hear quick words.  Beppo is only showing his love for his master and for me.  But you are wrong in this case, my Beppo.  You shall give me your protection when I require it; and now, you are sensible, and must understand that it is not wanted.  I tell you to go.”

Beppo read the eyes of his young mistress.

“Signorina,”—­he stooped forward mysteriously,—­“signorina, that fellow is in Baveno.  I saw him this morning.”

“Good, good.  And now go, my friend.”

“The signor Agostino,” he remarked loudly, to attract the old man; “the signor Agostino may think proper to advise you.”

“The signor Agostino will laugh at nothing that you say to-day, Beppo.  You will obey me.  Go at once,” she repeated, seeing him on tiptoe to gain Agostino’s attention.