take you all the way so comfortably!" Off comes the shabby hat with inimitable native grace, and the bold, brown eyes are convincingly eloquent. You can no more resist Pepino's reasoning than that rush of mountain air on the ramparts. All preconceived plans are fast taking flight; but Prudence keeps her head and demands with thrifty caution, "How much, inclusive, there and back?" Then Pepino: "Oh, a mere bagatelle, my _illustrissime_ signore, only twelve lire." Prudence, scouting this declaration with lofty scorn inspired by a profound knowledge of tariffs and coach-men from Paris to Palermo, exclaims: "Preposterous! Ten francs it shall be, and not a centesimo more." "Ah, signorina, the roads are very steep and it will take my whole morning," returns Pepino, beseechingly; but in vain he seeks for a sign of relenting. His struggle is brief, and, with a deprecating flourish of his small, shapely hands, he mounts the box, and the air with which he says, "as you will have it, signorina," is that of a gracious conqueror dictating terms to the vanquished; he cherishes no resentment, he has no interest but ours. We never for a moment regret the tram. Pepino knows every villa and grey tower, every path through the hills, every bridge over the _torrenti_; he never intrudes his knowledge, and, above all, he is kind to his horse. [Illustration: _M. M. Newell_ ON THE RAMPARTS, LUCCA] [Illustration: _Alinari_ S. FREDIANO, LUCCA EAST END, WITH THE CAMPANILE (11TH AND 13TH CENTURY)] [Illustration: _M. M. Newell_ SAN FREDIANO FROM THE GUINIGI TOWER, LUCCA] [Illustration: _M. M. Newell_ A "GREY TOWER"] [Illustration: _Alinari_ PONTE A MORIANO, WITH A VIEW OF THE SERCHIO RIVER] "Yonder cross on the round, bare hill," he says, "is Brancoli," and Brancoli is the hill of our desire. Our good road at first runs over the plain following the east bank of the Serchio, principal river of the province; it rises in a northernly valley among the Apuans and fed by many a mountain stream or _torrente_, maintains a southeasterly course almost to Lucca, which it avoids by a broad loop westward, and then makes its way to the Mediterranean almost parallel with the Arno. We pass clusters of farm-houses, well-cultivated fields and vineyards, until in less than an hour we reach Ponte Moriano, which is little more than a busy street of shops and dwellings, but has a good stone church founded by San Frediano in five hundred and something. Its rather tall, square tower, of good proportions and crenellated battlements, is characteristic of all the church towers in this region. Here is the terminus of the _tramvia_, and Pepino was right, there is no appearance of a carriage; but his Italian for "I told you so," was kept under his breath with true Lucchese courtesy. [Illustration: _M. M. Newell_ AN OLD STONE BRIDGE] [Illustration: _M. M. Newell_ BRIDGE OVER THE SERCHIO RIVER] [Illustration: _Alinari_ PARISH CHURCH OF S. MARIA E S. GIORGIO (11TH CENTURY) BRANCOLI]