200 THE LAND OF PLUCK

But when Beppo rose and bravely ran in the direction
of the sound, she followed him, and peered as sharply as
he into every bush. Suddenly Beppo sprang forward with
a joyful ery.

He had seen his father.

Tn an instant the two children were bending over him,
eagerly trying to catch his indistinct words.

“T have been wounded, my little ones,” he said, slowly ;
“can you bring me water?”

They did not wait to wring their hands and cry. Beppo,
forgetting his fears,— forgetting everything but that his
father needed help,— flew to his home.

At the portal, whom should he see but Fesco, standing
in the doorway, staring wildly about him.

The water was soon obtained, though it might have
been brought sooner, if Beppo, in his excitement, had not
forgotten the little stream near the great sycamore. And
Beppo and Fesco ran to the forest together. ,

When they reached the spot where the duke lay, Bianca,
under her father’s directions, was doing all she could to
bathe his wound; her little face was very pale, but she
looked up with a bright smile as Beppo approached.

“Father says he will get well, Beppo, but we are not to
move him from this soft bed, he says. See, I have heaped
leaves under his head, and I have brought water in my
hands from the brook.”

It is a long, long story, if you hear every word of it;
but you will be elad to get quickly to its ending. Beppo
was right; there had been evil work. The duke had been
dragged from the castle and stabbed. His guilty, frightened