A NEW ALARM. 



237 



traced their steps, and reached, without interruption, the pit- 

 fall round which they had been stationed. But there was no 

 Piccoletta to be found, and not a thing was visible at bottom 

 of the excavation ; not even the wonderful ball, from whose 

 heaving throes and living outbirth they had recoiled in terror, 

 before the ascent of the winged form, which, instead of a 

 good, they now looked on, and with pretty sufficient reason, as 

 an evil genius. An hour or two's fruitless search ended in the 

 persuasion that Piccoletta was lost for ever ; and, sorrowful 

 for the loss of their little townsfellow, and crest-fallen at the 

 cowardice to which, perhaps, it was owing, the party turned 

 again towards home. 



The summer sun had now attained its height, and the 

 baffled Monticellians were toiling onwards under its scorching 

 beams, their dread of pitfalls, ogres, and genii, all nearly over- 

 powered by vexation and fatigue, when suddenly their path 

 was overshadowed ; a flapping of heavy wings was heard above 

 their heads, and at the same moment there fell amongst them 

 a something from the stroke of which several individuals 

 fell prostrate. The others hastily recoiled ; and in the space 

 thus cleared, there appeared in the now sunny road (for the 

 shade had passed away with the onward flight of the object 

 which had caused it) the miraculous ball which they had seen 

 last within the pitfall. It exhibited, as then, a rent in the 

 side, and was now, moreover, somewhat crushed and battered. 



So fearfully connected was that ball of wonder with the 



