"What's the secret for to-day, mother?" asked Molly very early next morning. "Are we going to climb Mount Vesuvius?"

"I hope not," said her mother. "Solfatara was bad enough for me. I don't want to go so near to another volcano."

"Neither do I," said May. "But what are we going to do, mother?"

"Father says he will tell us the secret at the breakfast table, under the orange trees in the garden. Who will be ready first?"

"I shall be!" cried Molly.

"No, I shall be!" cried May. "I am glad we didn't go back to noisy Naples last night. I love this dear little 'Tavern of the Sun'! I believe the garden is the only parlor the hotel has. It is a really and truly sun parlor, isn't it, mother?"

"We are ready for the secret, father," called Molly, a few moments later, as she skipped out into the lovely garden.

"Well, let us have some breakfast first. Then we will have the secret," said her father.

"Look! We are going to have bread and honey and delicious hot chocolate for breakfast," said Molly. "And best of all, we are going to eat it under this lovely orange tree."

While they were enjoying the sweet taste of the bees' honey and the sweet smell of the orange blossoms, a more wonderful sweetness came to their ears. It came from a tall, dark tree near by. It was the sweetest bird's song the little Americans had ever heard.

"O Maria! Please tell us the name of that wonderful bird," they begged the pretty Italian maid who brought them a fresh pot of honey.

"Why, that is our nightingale," answered Maria, laughing. "He has a nest somewhere here in our garden. I think there must be some little brown eggs in it now. During the month of April he sings all day and all night, except for two or three hours just after sunset. Oh, we love our little nightingale!"

"I love him, too!" cried Molly. "I wish he would live in our garden trees at home."

"Well, children, are you ready for the secret?" asked their father, at last. "Here is Pippo, who wants to take us for a long drive."

"Is that the secret, father?" asked the Sunbonnet Babies eagerly.

"Yes, Pippo is going to take us on one of the most beautiful drives in all the world. We shall spend two days on the way, for we shall not want to hurry."

A few moments later they were all seated in a low Italian carriage, with Pippo on the driver's seat, high in front of them. He cracked his long whip many times above the backs of the two small horses, but they seemed to like the sound, for they dashed along over the hilly road as if it were play.

After driving several hours over this lovely mountain road they came to the beautiful blue waters of the Gulf of Salerno. Now began the most wonderful part of the drive. The road followed the shore of the gulf, clinging all the way to the steep slopes of the mountains, which came close down to the water's edge.

Molly and May were wild with excitement over the strangeness and beauty of it all. Molly begged to sit up on the seat beside Pippo, where she could see better and where he could tell her all about the wonderful things they were passing.

At first the mountains sloped gently away, above and below the road. Small groves of orange and lemon trees and vineyards of purple grapes grew on the sunny slopes, while the blue waters of the gulf sparkled like millions of diamonds under the brilliant sunshine.

They passed tiny fishing villages where barefooted women and little children seemed to be the only inhabitants. The men were probably away on fishing trips, or were sleeping lazily in the shade. In one of the villages the Sunbonnet Babies begged to stop and buy some oranges.

"O Pippo! Please ask if we may pick a few oranges from that tree just above the road," begged May.

Pippo smilingly said a few words to a woman standing near by, and she smilingly answered, "Si, si, signor. As many as they wish."

Molly and May were out of the carriage in a moment saying, "Grazie, grazie, signora!" as they scrambled up the slope to a place where they could reach the ripe, yellow fruit. The woman kindly showed them the ripest and juiciest oranges. Then she broke a small branch from a higher part of the tree, and gave it with a pretty bow to the little American girls.

"Look, May!" exclaimed Molly. "Here are ripe oranges and green oranges and lovely white blossoms all growing on the same branch. I'm sure I never smelled anything so sweet as these orange blossoms!"

"And I'm sure I never tasted anything so good as this orange!" said May, who had made a hole in one of her biggest oranges and was eagerly sucking out the sweet juice.

"I wish I had something pretty to give the woman," said Molly. "I know what I will do! I will give her my hair ribbon. She may have a little girl at home who will like it. Mother always carries extra hair ribbons for us, you know."

So, out from under the pretty sunbonnet came a big pink bow, which was given quickly to the kind woman. Into her other hand May slipped something from her purse. A moment later Pippo's long whip cracked over the horses' heads, and they were off.

The children waved good-by to their new friend, but she was looking with happy eyes at the beautiful pink bow in one hand and at the little piece of money in the other.

While Molly and May were busy gathering oranges, their mother was opening the well-filled lunch box. The next half-hour Pippo let his horses go as slowly as they liked, while the party in the carriage ate their picnic dinner and enjoyed the lovely scenery. Of course Pippo had his share of the lunch, which he seemed to think was very fine.

By the middle of the afternoon they had reached Amalfi, the largest and probably the oldest fishing village on this rocky coast.

"We will spend the night in that old monastery on the cliff," said the Sunbonnet Babies' father.

"Very well, sir," answered Pippo. "But you will have a good many steps to climb before you get up there."

The steps were very soon found, nearly two hundred of them, and up, up, up the little party climbed.

"How did the monks ever build such a great monastery 'way up here on the mountain side?" exclaimed Molly. "It seems as if it might fall into the water any minute."

"A piece of it did fall into the water a few years ago," said a smiling Italian man who was standing near by. "I saw it with my own eyes. I was not much larger then than you little girls are now."

"Oh, tell us about it, please!" begged the Sunbonnet Babies.

"Well, it was this way," said the man. "Our government spent a great deal of money building the fine road over which you drove to-day. The road had to be cut into the side of the mountain nearly the whole distance along this rocky shore. A broad stone wall was built on the side next to the water, so that carriages would not roll off. But there are places between here and Sorrento where the mountain is so steep the road could not be built on the outside of it. It had to be cut through the inside of the mountain. One of those places is just below this old monastery. You will drive through the tunnel in the morning when you start on your journey again.

"Well," continued the little man excitedly, "probably so much cutting away of the rock weakened a part of the mountain on which the monastery was built. One day, when the sun was shining as lovely as it is now, we heard a great ripping and splitting noise. It seemed like an earthquake. But no, it was not an earthquake! It was a piece of the mountain falling into the water below, carrying a small end of the monastery with it. Oh, it was terrible! I can never, never forget it!"

"I'm sure I never could forget it, either," said Molly, who was almost crying.

"And I'm not sure that I want to drive through those dark tunnels to-morrow," said May.

"Well, let us explore the old monastery now," said their father. "Then we will have our supper. Perhaps we shall find a few monks still living here in some quiet corner."

Before they went to bed that night the Sunbonnet Babies stood a long time at their open window. A full moon hung high in the sky, making the silvery blue water of the gulf shimmer like a fairy sea. The little whitewashed houses of the village clung to the side of the dark mountain as if they feared some evil fairy might push them down into the water.

Suddenly out of the evening silence came the sound of music. Far below their window the Sunbonnet Babies could see a young singer with his mandolin. His clear, high voice gave the lovely Italian song a strange beauty on the evening air.

"Is it fairyland, or is it heaven?" Molly whispered.

"Or are we just dreaming?" asked May, as they crept into the little white beds that were waiting for them.

Pirates