He did not realize the number of chances there might be that he would be caught and carried back into bondage. He was not old enough to think much of that, but he just knew enough to teach him that it was best to keep in the shade when he saw any one coming. He trudged along, keeping under trees and near walls, and he was clever enough to do it until he turned off the highway which led through the city. He passed by houses and shops and villas and gardens, but at last he turned into the road which sloped up among the olive vineyards, into the hills. Then he felt that he was at home. He did not know that he was still miles and miles away from Ceriani; he only knew that the big trees and the little ones were familiar things, that when he lifted his face he could see the sky he knew so well, and that the wind that blew softly up from the sea among his curls was something he seemed to have been far away from during these last strange two days. These things made him feel that Ceriani must be near. He was used to running about and being on his legs all day, or he would have been tired out long before he was. When he did begin to be tired he sat down on the grass, and the dog sat with him. In their own way they talked to each other. Then they would get up and trudge on. They had rested and trudged on many times before he began to be really discouraged. But his legs were so short, and in time he began to feel as if Ceriani was too far away! Stars were beginning to come out, and he suddenly realized that he was very little, and it had taken the big carriages of the _forestieri_ quite a long time to return to San Remo after their picnic. He sat down suddenly and began to cry. “We can’t find it!” he said to the dog. “We can’t find it!” The dog looked very much grieved. It is probable that he knew quite well what Piccino said. He shook his head until his ears made a flapping noise. Then he pushed close to Piccino and kissed him, lapping the salt tears off his soft cheeks as they rolled down. He knew he could have found the place all by himself, and got there without any particular trouble, but he could not leave his friend, and such a little friend, too, by the roadside. So he pressed close to him and looked sympathetic, and kissed his tears off cheeringly. “We can’t find it!” wailed Piccino. “Maria! Maria! Maria! Ma-ri-a!”