When he was not running beside Zuanne, little Anania passed the day in the great court of the church of the Martyrs. He played with the sons of the wax-candle-maker, who had his workshop close by. The quiet Courtyard was shadowed by great trees, and surrounded by an arcade falling into ruin. A little stone stair led to the church, on the simple facade of which a cross was painted. Anania and the candlemaker's children spent hours on the little stair, playing with the pebbles and making little candles of chalk. A yawning carabiniere[8] used to stand at the window of the ancient convent; in the cells military boots and tunics were visible; and a voice might be heard singing in falsetto with a Neapolitan accent-- "_A te questo rosario_"-- Some monk--one of the few left in the damp and decadent spot--dirty, tattered, with broken sandals, would pass through the court mumbling his prayers in dialect. Sometimes the soldier at the window, the friar on the staircase, amused themselves talking to the children. The _carabiniere_ would turn sharp to Anania and ask news of his mother. "What's she doing?" "She's spinning." "What else does she do?" "She goes to the fountain for water." "Tell her to come here. I want to speak to her." "Yes, Sir," answered the little innocent. He gave the message to Olì. Though he had once seen her talking to the soldier, she was angry and boxed his ears. She told him not to go back to the courtyard; but of course he disobeyed as he could not live without either Zuanne or the wax-candlemaker's children. Except on Sunday, and on the Feast of the Martyrs in spring, sad solitude reigned in the great sunshiny court, in the ruined arcades which smelt of wax, under the big walnut tree, which to Anania seemed taller than the Gennargentu, in the Basilica where the pictures and stucco ornaments were perishing of neglect. Yet in his after life the boy remembered with nostalgic sweetness that deserted spot; and the oats which in spring used to come up between the stones, and the rusty leaves of the walnut tree falling in autumn like the feathers of a dying bird. Zuanne who was devoured with longing to play in the courtyard, and who was bored when Anania deserted him, was jealous of the candlemaker's children, and did his best to keep his friend away from them. "I want you to-morrow," he said to the younger boy, while they roasted chestnuts in the ashes; "I've got a hare's nest to show you. She has such a lot of little ones and they're as small as your fingers! They're quite naked, with long ears. Eh! their ears are as long as the devil's!" he ended, drawing on his invention. Anania went in search of the leverets, and of course didn't find them. Zuanne swore he had seen them, that they must have run away, that it showed Anania's folly in not having looked for them sooner.