“Well, that tends to confirm my own ideas,” said Franz, “that the countess’s suspicions were destitute alike of sense and reason. Did he speak in your hearing? and did you catch any of his words?”
“I did; but they were uttered in the Romaic dialect. I knew that from the mixture of Greek words. I don’t know whether I ever told you that when I was at college I was rather—rather strong in Greek.”
“He spoke the Romaic language, did he?”
“I think so.”
“That settles it,” murmured Franz. “’Tis he, past all doubt.”
“What do you say?”
“Nothing, nothing. But tell me, what were you thinking about when I came in?”
“Oh, I was arranging a little surprise for you.”
“Indeed. Of what nature?”
“Why, you know it is quite impossible to procure a carriage.”
“Certainly; and I also know that we have done all that human means afforded to endeavor to get one.”
“Now, then, in this difficulty a bright idea has flashed across my brain.”
Franz looked at Albert as though he had not much confidence in the suggestions of his imagination.
“I tell you what, M. Franz,” cried Albert, “you deserve to be called out for such a misgiving and incredulous glance as that you were pleased to bestow on me just now.”
“And I promise to give you the satisfaction of a gentleman if your scheme turns out as ingenious as you assert.”
“Well, then, hearken to me.”
“I listen.”
“You agree, do you not, that obtaining a carriage is out of the question?”
“I do.”
“Neither can we procure horses?”
“True; we have offered any sum, but have failed.”
“Well, now, what do you say to a cart? I dare say such a thing might be had.”
“Very possibly.”
“And a pair of oxen?”
“As easily found as the cart.”
“Then you see, my good fellow, with a cart and a couple of oxen our business can be managed. The cart must be tastefully ornamented; and if you and I dress ourselves as Neapolitan reapers, we may get up a striking tableau, after the manner of that splendid picture by Léopold Robert. It would add greatly to the effect if the countess would join us in the costume of a peasant from Puzzoli or Sorrento. Our group would then be quite complete, more especially as the countess is quite beautiful enough to represent a Madonna.”
“Well,” said Franz, “this time, M. Albert, I am bound to give you credit for having hit upon a most capital idea.”
“And quite a national one, too,” replied Albert with gratified pride. “A mere masque borrowed from our own festivities. Ha, ha, ye Romans! you thought to make us, unhappy strangers, trot at the heels of your processions, like so many lazzaroni, because no carriages or horses are to be had in your beggarly city. But you don’t know us; when we can’t have one thing we invent another.”
“And have you communicated your triumphant idea to anybody?”
“Only to our host. Upon my return home I sent for him, and I then explained to him what I wished to procure. He assured me that nothing would be easier than to furnish all I desired. One thing I was sorry for; when I bade him have the horns of the oxen gilded, he told me there would not be time, as it would require three days to do that; so you see we must do without this little superfluity.”
“And where is he now?”
“Who?”
“Our host.”
“Gone out in search of our equipage, by tomorrow it might be too late.”
“Then he will be able to give us an answer tonight.”
“Oh, I expect him every minute.”
At this instant the door opened, and the head of Signor Pastrini appeared. “Permesso?” inquired he.
“Certainly—certainly,” cried Franz. “Come in, my host.”
“Now, then,” asked Albert eagerly, “have you found the desired cart and oxen?”
“Better than that!” replied Signor Pastrini, with the air of a man perfectly well satisfied with himself.