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"I think none of you will accuse me of want of courage. If I met these fellows you know very well that I would go in for fighting them. But what I do object to is the infernal bother of being stopped, detained, or perhaps sent back. Then if any of us got wounded we would be laid up for a month or so. That's what I object to. If I had to do it it would be different, but I see no necessity."
"You surely want to see Lombardy?"
"No, I don't."
"Not Bologna?"
"No."
"Ferrara?"
"No."
"Do you mean to say that you don't want to see Venice and Milan?"
"Haven't the remotest desire to see either of the places. I merely wish to get back again to Paris. It's about the best place I've seen yet, except, of course, my native city, Philadelphia. That I think is without an equal. However, our minds are made up. We don't wish to change your plans--in fact, we never thought it possible.
We are going to take the steamer at Leghorn for Ma.r.s.eilles, and go on to Paris."
"Well, Doctor," said d.i.c.k, "will you do me one favor before you go?"
"With pleasure. What is it?"
"Sell me your pistol."
"I can't _sell_ it," said the Doctor. "It was a present to me. But I will be happy to lend it to you till we meet again in Paris. We will be sure to meet there in a couple of months at the furthest."
The Doctor took out his pistol and handed it to d.i.c.k, who thankfully received it.
"Oh, b.u.t.tons," said the Senator, suddenly, "I have good news for you.
I ought to have told you before."
"Good news? what?"
"I saw the Spaniards."
"The Spaniards!" cried b.u.t.tons, eagerly, starting up. "Where did you see them? When? Where are they? I have scoured the whole town."
"I saw them at a very crowded a.s.sembly at the Countess's. There was such a scrouging that I could not get near them. The three were there. The little Don and his two sisters."
"And don't you know any thing about them?"
"Not a hooter, except something that the Countess told me. I think she said that they were staying at the villa of a friend of hers."
"A friend? Oh, confound it all! What shall I do?"
"The villa is out of town."
"That's the reason why I never could see them. Confound it all, what shall I do?"
"b.u.t.tons," said the Senator, gravely, "I am truly sorry to see a young man like you so infatuated about foreign women. Do not be offended, I mean it kindly. She may be a Jesuit in disguise; who knows? And why will you put yourself to grief about a little black-eyed gal that don't know a word of English? Believe me, New England is wide, and has ten thousand better gals than ever she began to be. If you will get in love wait till you get home and fall in love like a Christian, a Republican, and a Man."
But the Senator's words had no effect. b.u.t.tons sat for a few moments lost in thought. At length he rose and quietly left the room. It was about nine in the morning when he left. It was about nine in the evening when he returned. He looked dusty, fatigued, f.a.gged, and dejected. He had a long story to tell and was quite communicative. The substance of it was this: On leaving the hotel he had gone at once to _La Cica_'s residence, and had requested permission to see her. He could not till twelve. He wandered about and called again at that hour. She was very amiable, especially on learning that he was a friend of the Senator, after whom she asked with deep interest. Nothing could exceed her affability.
She told him all that she knew about the Spaniards. They were stopping at the villa of a certain friend of hers whom she named.
It was ten miles from the city. The friend had brought them to the a.s.sembly. It was but for a moment that she had seen them. She wished for his sake that she had learned more about them. She trusted that he would succeed in his earnest search. She should think that they might still be in Florence, and if he went out at once he might see them. Was this his first visit to Florence? How perfectly he had the Tuscan accent; and why had he not accompanied his friend the Senator to her salon? But it would be impossible to repeat all that _La Cica_ said.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Farewell, Figgs!]
b.u.t.tons went out to the villa at once; but to his extreme disgust found that the Spaniards, had left on the preceding day for Bologna.
He drove about the country for some distance, rested his horses, and took a long walk, after which he returned.
Their departure for Bologna on the following morning was a settled thing. The diligence started early. They had pity on the flesh of Figgs and the spirit of the Doctor. So they bade them good-bye on the evening before retiring.
CHAPTER XLVI.
A MEMORABLE DRIVE.--NIGHT.--THE BRIGANDS ONCE MORE.--GARIBALDI'S NAME.--THE FIRE.--THE IRON BAR.--THE MAN FROM THE GRANITE STATE AND HIS TWO BOYS.
"The great beauty of this pistol is a little improvement that I have not seen before."
And d.i.c.k proceeded to explain.
"Here is the chamber with the six cavities loaded. Now, you see, when you wish, you touch this spring and out pops the b.u.t.t."
"Well?"
"Very well. Here I have another chamber with six cartridges: It's loaded, the cartridges are covered with copper and have detonating powder at one end. As quick as lightning I put this on, and there you have the pistol ready to be fired again six times."
"So you have twelve shots?"
"Yes."
"And cartridges to spare?"
"The Doctor gave me all that he had, about sixty, I should think."
"You have enough to face a whole army--"
"Precisely--and in my coat-pocket."
This conversation took place in the banquette of the diligence that conveyed d.i.c.k, b.u.t.tons, and the Senator from Florence to Bologna. A long part of the journey had been pa.s.sed over. They were among the mountains.
"Do you expect to use that?" asked the Senator, carelessly.