The driver lay on his seat asleep; his pony meanwhile cropped the green herbage by the roadside, and every now and then shook the jingling bells on his harness as though expressing the satisfaction he felt at being left to his own devices.

The piled-up grapes looked tempting, and I was both hungry and thirsty, I laid a hand on the sleeping man's shoulder; he awoke with a start.

Seeing me, his face assumed an expression of the wildest terror; he jumped from his cart and sunk down on his knees in the dust, imploring me by the Madonna, St.Joseph, and all the saints to spare his life.

I laughed; his fears seemed to me ludicrous.

Surely there was nothing alarming about me beyond my paucity of clothing.
"Get up, man!" I said.