Aunt Jane's Nieces Abroad
"
"Then you cannot help me?" asked Uncle John, who was weary of hearing
these pessimistic declarations.
"I cannot even help myself; for I may not resign my position here unless
the Duke is willing I should go."
"Good morning, doctor."
The prisoner returned slowly toward the dwelling, with its group of
outhouses. By chance he found a path leading to the rear of these which
he had not traversed before, and followed it until he came to a hedge of
thickly set trees of some variety of cactus, which seemed to have been
planted to form an enclosure. Cautiously pushing aside the branches
bordering a small gap in this hedge, Uncle John discovered a charming
garden lying beyond, so he quickly squeezed himself through the opening
and entered.
The garden was rudely but not badly kept. There was even some attempt at
ornamentation, and many of the shrubs and flowers were rare and
beautiful. Narrow walks traversed the masses of foliage, and several
leafy bowers invited one to escape the heat of the midday sun in their
shelter. It was not a large place, and struck one as being overcrowded
because so many of the plants were taller than a man's head.
Uncle John turned down one path which, after several curves and turns,
came to an abrupt ending beneath the spreading branches of an acacia
tree which had been converted into a bower by a thick, climbing vine,
whose matted leaves and purple blossoms effectually screened off the
garden beyond.
While he stood gazing around him to find a way out without retracing his
steps, a clear voice within a few feet of him caused him to start. The
voice spoke in vehement Italian, and came from the other side of the
screen of vines. It was sharp and garrulous in tone, and although Uncle
John did not understand the words he recognized their dominating accent.
The Duke replied, slowly and sullenly, and whatever he said had the
effect of rousing the first speaker to fierce anger.
The American became curious. He found a place where the leaves were
thinner than elsewhere, and carefully pressing them apart looked through
the opening.
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In a village there lived two men who had the self-same name. Both were named Claus. But one of them owned four horses, and the other owned only one horse; so to distinguish between them people called the man who had four horses Big Claus, and the man who had only one horse Little Claus. Now I'll tell you what happened to these two, for this is a true story.
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