She slept till the rocks were purple, and rose-purple mists were in the valleys.  The stopping of the carriage aroused her.  They were at the threshold of a large wayside hostelry, fronting a slope of forest and a plunging brook.  Whitecoats in all attitudes leaned about the door; she beheld the inner court full of them.  Herr Johannes was ready to hand her to the ground.  He said:  ’You have nothing to fear.  These fellows are on the march to Cremona.  Perhaps it will be better if you are served up in your chamber.  You will be called early in the morning.’

She thanked him, and felt grateful.  ‘Beppo, look to yourself,’ she said, and ran to her retirement.

’I fancy that ‘s about all that you are fit for,’ Herr Johannes remarked, with his eyes on the impersonator of Beppo, who bore the scrutiny carelessly, and after seeing that Vittoria had left nothing on the carriage-seats, directed his steps to the kitchen, as became his functions.  Herr Johannes beckoned to a Tyrolese maid-servant, of whom Beppo had asked his way.  She gave her name as Katchen.

‘Katchen, Katchen, my sweet chuck,’ said Herr Johannes, ’here are ten florins for you, in silver, if you will get me the handkerchief of that man:  you have just stretched your finger out for him.’

According to the common Austrian reckoning of them, Herr Johannes had adopted the right method for ensuring the devotion of the maidens of Tyrol.  She responded with an amazed gulp of her mouth and a grimace of acquiescence.  Ten florins in silver shortened the migratory term of the mountain girl by full three months.  Herr Johannes asked her the hour when the officers in command had supper, and deferred his own meal till that time.  Katchen set about earning her money.  With any common Beppo it would have been easy enough—­simple barter for a harmless kiss.  But this Beppo appeared inaccessible; he was so courtly and so reserved; nor is a maiden of Tyrol a particularly skilled seductress.  The supper of the officers was smoking on the table when Herr Johannes presented himself among them, and very soon the inn was shaken with an uproar of greeting.  Katchen found Beppo listening at the door of the salle.  She clapped her hands upon him to drag him away.

‘What right have you to be leaning your head there?’ she said, and threatened to make his proceedings known.  Beppo had no jewel to give, little money to spare.  He had just heard Herr Johannes welcomed among the officers by a name that half paralyzed him.  ’You shall have anything you ask of me if you will find me out in a couple of hours,’ he said.  Katchen nodded truce for that period, and saw her home in the Oberinnthal still nearer—­twelve mountain goats and a cow her undisputed property.  She found him out, though he had strayed through the court of the inn, and down a hanging garden to the borders of a torrent that drenched the air and sounded awfully in the dark ravine below.  He embraced her very mildly.  ‘One scream and you go,’ he said; she felt the saving hold of her feet plucked from her, with all the sinking horror, and bit her under lip, as if keeping in the scream with bare stitches.  When he released her she was perfectly mastered.  ‘You do play tricks,’ she said, and quaked.