LE LTJCCIOLE. 143 



Bassano. His cottage was in the midst of an olive grove, 

 which adjoined the garden of the villa, and communicated 

 with it by a gate opening on a terrace walk which overlooked 

 the sea and town. It was here the lovers had been walking ; 

 and Marco, having accompanied his innarnorata through a por- 

 tion of the olive grove, they were repeating for the last 

 (perhaps the twentieth) time, their reluctant " Buona notte" 

 when Bianca started " Heard you not," said she, " a 

 rustling amongst those trees ?" 



" Not I," sweet one, " returned Marco ;" but as he spoke 

 he plunged into the plantation in the direction towards which 

 she pointed, and shook the boughs as if to detect the presence 

 of a suspected lurker. None appeared ; but from the shaken 

 branches arose a swarm of fire-flies which, checked in their 

 upward flight by the thick foliage above them, kept wheeling 

 in radiant streams and circles near the disturbers of their 

 rest. " There, silly one ! now art tliou satisfied?" cried 

 the young man, returning to the path-way. " The Luc- 

 ciole have displayed their lamps on purpose to show thee 

 the emptiness of thy fears ; and see ! in honour of St. John, 

 have we not here a brave illumination ? a show of fire- works 

 shaming the brightest that are let off yonder ? Aye, and my 

 loved one, thou shalt not want for diamonds in thy hair 

 gems which the proudest of yon city dames display not one to 

 equal." 



Marco, as he spoke, opened and closed his hand upon seve- 



