"Men of Italy!"
"In the name of the Great Republic!--I congratulate you on this glorious victory! It is a triumph of Liberty!--of the principles of '76!--of the immortal idees!--for which our forefathers fought and died!--at Lexington!--at Bunker Hill!--and at a thousand other places in the great and glorious Revolution!"
The Senator paused. This was enough. It had been spoken in English. The Italians did not of course understand a word, yet they comprehended all his meaning. As he paused there burst forth a shout of joy such as is heard only once in a life-time; shout upon shout. The long peals of sound rose up and spread far away over the city. The vast crowd vibrated like one man to the impulse of the common enthusiasm.
It was too great to last. They rushed to the carriage of _La Cica_. They unharnessed the horses. They led the Senator to it and made him enter. They flung their tri-colors in. They threw flowers on his lap. They wound the flag of Italy around the carriage. A thousand marched before it. Thousands more walked beside and behind. They drew him up to his hotel in triumph, and the band struck up the thrilling strain of "Yankee Doodle!"
It would be unfair not to render justice to _La Cica_. She bore the scene admirably. Her beaming face, and lustrous eyes, and heaving bosom, and majestic air, showed that she appropriated to herself all the honor thus lavished upon the Senator. It was a proud moment for _La Cica_.
"Dick," said Buttons, as they descended from their perch.
"Well?"
"How do you feel now?"
"Obliterated. I do not exist. I was once a blot. I am expunged. There is no such thing as Dick."
"Who could have imagined this?"
"And how he bore it! The Senator is a great man. But come. Don't let us speak for an hour, for we are both unable to talk coherently."
From patriotic motives the two young men walked behind the Senator's carriage and cheered all the way.
Upon arriving at their lodgings in the evening they stationed themselves at the window and looked out upon the illuminated scene. Dick, finding his emotions too strong to be restrained, took his trombone and entertained a great crowd for hours with all the national airs he knew.
CHAPTER XLV
.
THE PRIVATE OPINION OF THE DOCTOR ABOUT FOREIGN TRAVEL.--BUTTONS STILL MEETS WITH AFFLICTIONS.
"The Italians, of at any rate the people of Florence, have just about as much cuteness as you will find anywhere."
Such was the dictum of the Senator in a conversation with his companions after rejoining them at the hotel. They had much to ask; he had much to tell. Never had he been more critical, more approbative. He felt now that he thoroughly understood the Italian question, and expressed himself in accordance with his consciousness.
"Nothing does a feller so much good," said he, "as mixing in all grades of society. It won't ever do to confine our observation to the lower class. We must mingle with the upper crust, who are the leaders of the people."
"Unfortunately," said Buttons, "we are not all Senators, so we have to do the best we can with our limited opportunities."
They had been in Florence long enough, and now the general desire was to go on. Mr. Figgs and the Doctor had greatly surprised the Senator by informing him that they did not intend to go any further.
And why not?
"Well, for my own part," said Mr. Figgs, "the discomforts of travel are altogether too great. It would not be so bad in the winter, but think how horribly hot it is. What is my condition? That of a man slowly suffocating. Think how fat I am. Even if I had the enthusiasm of Dick, or the fun of Buttons, my fat would force me to leave. Can you pretend to be a friend of mine and still urge me to go further? And suppose we passed over into Austrian territory. Perhaps we might be unmolested, but it is doubtful. Suppose, for the sake of argument, that we were arrested and detained. Imagine us--imagine _me_ shut up in a room--or worse, a cell--in the month of July in midsummer, in the hottest part of this burning fiery furnace of a country! What would be left of me at the end of a week, or at the end of even one day? What? A grease spot! A grease spot! Not a bit more, by Jingo!"
A Grease Spot.
[Illustration: A Grease Spot.]
After this speech, which was for him one of extraordinary length and vigor, Mr. Figgs fell exhausted into his chair.
"But you, Doctor," said the Senator, seeing that Mr. Figgs was beyond the reach of persuasion--"you--what reason is there for you to leave? You are young, strong, and certainly not fat."
"No, thank heaven! it is not the heat, or the fear of being suffocated in an Austrian dungeon that influences me."
"What, is the reason?"
"These confounded disturbances," said the Doctor languidly.
"Disturbances?"
"Yes. I hear that the road between this and Bologna swarms with vagabonds. Several diligences have been robbed. I heard a story which shows this state of things. A band of men entered the theatre of a small town along the road while the inhabitants were witnessing the play. At first the spectators thought it was part of the performance. They were soon undeceived. The men drew up in line in front of the stage and levelled their pieces. Then fastening the doors, they sent a number of men around through the house to plunder the whole audience. Not content with this they made the authorities of the town pay a heavy ransom."
"Some one has been humbugging you, Doctor," said Buttons.
"I had it from good authority," said the Doctor, calmly. "These fellows call themselves Revolutionists, and the peasantry sympathize with them."
"Well, if we meet with them there will be a little additional excitement."
"Yes, and the loss of our watches and money."
"We can carry our money where they won't find it, and our bills of exchange are all right, you know."
"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 Marseilles, and go on to Paris."
"Well, Doctor," said Dick, "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 Dick, who thankfully received it.
"Oh, Buttons," 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 Buttons, 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 assembly 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?"
"Buttons," 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. Buttons 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, fagged, 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 assembly. 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.
Farewell, Figgs!
[Illustration: Farewell, Figgs!]
Buttons 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 Dick 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 butt."
"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 Dick, Buttons, and the Senator from Florence to Bologna. A long part of the journey had been passed over. They were among the mountains.
"Do you expect to use that?" asked the Senator, carelessly.
"I do."
"You believe these stories then?"
"Yes; don't you?"
"Certainly."
"So do I," said Buttons. "I could not get a pistol; but I got this from an acquaintance."
And he drew from his pocket an enormous bowie-knife.
"Bowie-knives are no good," said the Senator. "Perhaps they may do if you want to assassinate; but for nothing else. You can't defend yourself. I never liked it. It's not American. It's not the direct result of our free institutions."
"What have you then?"
"This," said the Senator.
And he lifted up a crow-bar from the front of the coach. Brandishing it in the air as easily as an ordinary man would swing a walking-stick. He looked calmly at his astonished companions.
"You see," said he, "there are several reasons why this is the best sort of weapon for me. A short knife is no use. A sword is no good, for I don't know the sword exercise. A gun is worthless; I would fire it off once and then have to use it as a club. It would then be apt to break. That would be disagreeable--especially in the middle of a fight. A stick or club of any kind would be open to the same objection. What, then, is the weapon for me? Look at me. I am big, strong, and active. I have no skill. I am brute strength. So a club is my only weapon--a club that won't break. Say iron, then. There you have it."
And the Senator swung the ponderous bar around in a way that showed the wisdom of his choice.
"You are about right," said Buttons. "I venture to say you'll do as much mischief with that as Dick will with his pistol. Perhaps more. As for me, I don't expect to do much. Still, if the worst comes, I'll try to do what I can."
"We may not have to use them," said the Senator. "Who are below?"
"Below?"
"In the coach?"
"Italians."
"Women?"
"No, all men. Two priests, three shop-keeper-looking persons, and a soldier."
"Ah! Why, we ought to be comparatively safe."
"Oh, our number is not any thing. The country is in a state of anarchy. Miserable devils of half-starved Italians swarm along the road, and they will try to make hay while the sun shines. I have no doubt we will be stopped half a dozen times before we get to Bologna."
"I should think," said the Senator, indignantly, "that if these chaps undertake to govern the country--these republican chaps--they had ought to govern it. What kind of a way is this to leave helpless travellers at the mercy of cut-throats and assassins?"
"They think," said Buttons, "that their first duty is to secure independence, and after that they will promote order."
"The Florentines are a fine people--a people of remarkable cuteness and penetration; but it seems to me that they are taking things easy as far as fighting is concerned. They don't send their soldiers to the war, do they?"
"Well, no, I suppose they think their army may be needed nearer home. The Grand Duke has long arms yet; and knows how to bribe."
By this time they were among the mountain forests where the scenery was grander, the air cooler, the sky darker, than before. It was late in the day, and every mile increased the wildness of the landscape and the thickness of the gloom. Further and further, on they went till at least they came to a winding-place where the road ended at a gully over which there was a bridge. On the bridge was a barricade. They did not see it until they had made a turn where the road wound, where at once the scene burst on their view.
The leaders reared, the postillions swore, the driver snapped his whip furiously. The passengers in "coupé," "rotonde," and "interieure" popped out their heads, the passengers on the "banquette" stared, until at last, just as the postillions were dismounting to reconnoitre, twelve figures rose up from behind the barricade, indistinct in the gloom, and bringing their rifles to their shoulders took aim.
The driver yelled, the postillions shouted, the passengers shrieked. The three men in the banquette prepared for a fight. Suddenly a loud voice was heard from behind. They looked. A number of men stood there, and several more were leaping out from the thick woods on the right. They were surrounded. At length one of the men came forward from behind.
"You are at our mercy," said he. "Whoever gives up his money may go free. Whoever resists dies. Do you hear?"
Meanwhile the three men in the banquette had piled some trunks around, and prepared to resist till the last extremity. Dick was to fire; Buttons to keep each spare butt loaded; the Senator to use his crow-bar on the heads of any assailants. They waited in silence. They heard the brigands rummaging through the coach below, the prayers of the passengers, their appeals for pity, their groans at being compelled to give up every thing.
"The cowards don't deserve pity!" cried the Senator. "There are enough to get up a good resistance. We'll show fight, anyhow!"
In The Coach.
[Illustration: In The Coach.]
Scarcely had he spoke when three or four heads appeared above the edge of the coach.
"Haste!--your money!" said one.
"Stop!" said Buttons. "This gentleman is the American Plenipotentiary Extraordinary, who has just come from Florence, and is on his way to communicate with Garibaldi."
"Garibaldi!" cried the man, in a tone of deep respect.
"Yes," said Buttons, who had not miscalculated the effect of that mighty name. "If you harm us or plunder us you will have to settle your account with Garibaldi--that's all!"
The man was silent. Then he leaped down, and in another moment another man came.
"Which is the American Plenipotentiary Extraordinary?"
"He," said Buttons, pointing to the Senator.
"Ah! I know him. It is the same. I saw him at his reception in Florence, and helped to pull his carriage."
The Senator calmly eyed the brigand, who had respectfully taken off his hat.
"So you are going to communicate with Garibaldi at once. Go in peace! Gentlemen every one of us fought under Garibaldi at Rome. Ten years ago he disbanded a large number of us among these mountains. I have the honor to inform you that ever since that time I have got my living out of the public, especially those in the service of the Government. You are different. I like you because you are Americans. I like you still better because you are friends of Garibaldi. Go in peace! When you see the General tell him Giuglio Malvi sends his respects."
And the man left them. In about a quarter of an hour the barricade was removed, and the passengers resumed their seats with lighter purses but heavier hearts. The diligence started, and once more went thundering along the mountain road.
"I don't believe we've seen the last of these scoundrels yet," said Buttons.
"Nor I," said Dick.
A general conversation followed. It was late, and but few things were visible along the road. About two hours passed away without any occurrence.
"Look!" cried Dick, suddenly.
They looked.
About a quarter of a mile ahead a deep red glow arose above the forest, illumining the sky. The windings of the road prevented them from seeing the cause of it. The driver was startled, but evidently thought it was no more dangerous to go on than to stop. So he lashed up his horses and set them off at a furious gallop. The rumble of the ponderous wheels shut out all other sounds. As they advanced the light grew more vivid.
"I shouldn't wonder," said the Senator, "if we have another barricade here. Be ready, boys! We won't get off so easily this time."
The other two said not a word. On, and on. The report of a gun suddenly roused all. The driver lashed his horses. The postillions took the butts of their riding-whips and pelted the animals. The road took a turn, and, passing this a strange scene burst upon their sight.