The youth, with a grieved countenance, turned to go.

“’Tis not,” he said, “that I fear for threats, especially from Master Jean.  Yet since thou commandest, I needs must yield.”

So saying, he passed out of the door, while the tumult having ceased, a whisper went round the room: 

“Gaspar has a fine daughter; ’tis she who commands through him.”

The mirth, for a moment rudely stayed, again proceeded.  Goblets clinked and wine flowed merrily, till the host, striking his hand on the table, again addressed the company: 

“Good people and neighbors all,” he said, “I pledge you here my future son-in-law.  Drink deep then; the wine is good, I trust, and at all events the toast merits our good will.”

The wine was forthwith lifted to lip, and at the word, the generous liquid, blushing with deeper hue than even did the landlord’s jolly nose, was drained to the uttermost drop, and the cups, turned bottom up, were replaced on the board.  As the ring of the metal ceased, Master Jean, grizzle-haired and scarred with the marks of war, rose up and grimly smiled around.

“Mates,” he said, “I am not apt at making fine speeches, though I can feel as many thanks as another.  I’ll give you then, our jolly host and his sweet daughter.  Than he, no better rules the roast between here and the salt sea.  And what maiden can compare with her in loveliness?”

This speech was received with the most decided applause by the rest of the company, who seemed eager to evince their approbation of all things at present said and done, by steadfast application to the festivities of the occasion.

Meantime, far removed from their boisterous cheer, sat within her little chamber the maiden, weeping at thought of the dreaded marriage-day, towards which the hours were rapidly hastening.

“O, Gulielmo!” such were the thoughts which she murmured, “shall I be able to support life forever removed from thee?  Alas! the fate which so ruthlessly severs our mutual loves!”

Meanwhile, Gulielmo roamed the hills, his heart swelling with sadness.  What use in longer adherence to home and the lowly shepherd’s lot?  No, he would no longer tamely submit to poverty and the contempt which it entailed on its victim.  The moment was now arrived when he must bid adieu to Rosa, loved in vain, and to Sorento, spot hitherto so loved and lonely.  Thus musing, he began to trace on the sandy soil a rude outline, which certainly bore a striking resemblance to Rosa’s pretty features.

“Well done, Master Gulielmo!” suddenly exclaimed a strange voice.

The startled youth looked up, and in so doing cast his eye on a face which seemed not altogether unknown to his remembrance.  The stranger possessed a visage bold and finely formed, a piercing eye, and a strongly-marked mouth set beneath a classic nose; while his tawny color told a life exposed to daily wind, and sun, and rain.