"I can't never go back to the podere. _She's_ there, and she has taken up with Matteo. I've had my heart trampled upon, and so I've got a big hankering either to kill somebody or get killed myself; and I'll either do it here, or I'll go for a soldier and get knifed in the war." "Mercy on us! there isn't any war now," said Prudence, dazed by these sanguinary suggestions. "There's always a war. What else are there soldiers for? And there's lots of soldiers. But I could get knifed here easy enough; Matteo and I--already we've had one tussle; I gave him a pretty big cut, you may depend." Seventeen years earlier Prudence Wilkin would have laughed at the idea of being frightened by such words as these. But Mrs. Tonio Guadagni had heard of wild deeds in Assisi, and wilder ones still among the peasants of the hill country roundabout; these singing, indolent Umbrians dealt sometimes in revenges that were very direct and primitive. "You let Matteo alone, Gooster," she said, putting her hand on his arm; "you go straight over to Perugia and stay there. Perhaps you can get work where Parlo and Squawly are." "I shall have it out with Matteo here, or else go for a soldier to-morrow," answered Gooster, in his lethargic tone. "Well, go for a soldier, then." "It don't make much difference to me which I do," Gooster went on, as if only half awake. "If I go for a soldier, I shall have to get to Florence somehow, I suppose; I shall have to have ten francs for the railroad." "Is it ten exactly?" said Prudence. Her mind flew to her work-box, which held just that sum. "It's ten." "Haven't you got any money at all, Gooster?" She meant to help him on his way; but she thought that she should like to keep, if possible, a nest-egg to begin with again--say twenty cents, or ten. Gooster felt in his pockets. "Three soldi," he replied, producing some copper coins and counting them over. [Illustration: "NOUNCE TOO CAME OUT, AND SAT ON THE WALL NEAR BY, LISTENING"] "And there's nothing due you at the per-dairy?" There was no necessity for answering such a foolish question as this, and Gooster did not answer it. "Well, I will give you the money," said Prudence. "But to-morrow'll do, won't it? Stay here a day or two, and we'll talk it over." While she was speaking, Gooster had turned and walked towards the garden wall. The sight of his back going from her--as though she should never see it again--threw her into a sudden panic; she ran after him and seized his arm. "I'll give you the money, Gooster; I told you I would; I've got it all ready, and it won't take a minute; promise me that you won't leave this garden till I come back." Gooster had had no thought of leaving the garden; he had espied a last bunch of grapes still hanging on the vine, and was going to get it; that was all. "All right," he said.