deposited such another; that she had left traces which might impart information to the depredators.
"Well done!" cried Don Abbondio, in whom the security he was beginning to feel with regard to his life allowed his anxiety to appear for his property; "well done! Is this what you have been doing? Where were your brains?"
"How!" replied Perpetua, stopping for a moment, and attempting, as far as her load would permit, to place her arms a-kimbo; "do you find fault, when it was yourself who teased me out of my wits, instead of helping me as you ought to have done? I have thought more of my master's goods than my own; and if there is any thing lost, I can't help it, I have done more than my duty."
Agnes interrupted these disputes by introducing her own troubles: she was obliged to relinquish the hope of seeing her dear Lucy, for some time at least; for she could not expect that Donna Prassede would come into this vicinity under such circumstances. The sight of the well-remembered places through which they were passing increased the anguish of her feelings. Leaving the fields, they had taken the high road, the same which the poor woman had travelled, in re-conducting, for so short a time, her daughter to her home, after having been with her at the tailor's. As they approached the village, "Let us go and visit these worthy people," said Agnes.
"And rest a little, and eat a mouthful," said Perpetua, "for I begin to have enough of this basket."
"On condition that we lose no time, for this is not by any means a journey for amusement," said Don Abbondio.
They were received with open arms, and cordially welcomed; Agnes, embracing the good hostess, wept bitterly; replying with sobs to the questions her husband and she asked concerning Lucy.
"She is better off than we are," said Don Abbondio; "she is at Milan, sheltered from danger, far from these horrible scenes."
"The signor curate and his companions are fugitives, are they not?" said the tailor.
