She renewed it when the two carriages stopped, half into Florence.

“ Mr. Eager!” called Mr. Beebe. “We want your assistance. Will you interpret for us?”

“George!” cried Mr. Emerson. “Ask your driver which way George went. The boy may lose his way. He may be killed.”

“Go, Mr. Eager,” said Miss Bartlett, “don’t ask our driver; our driver is no help. Go and support poor Mr. Beebe; he is nearly demented.”

“He may be killed!” cried the old man. “He may be killed!”