Her husband had tried
in vain to reassure her. They had lingered all the afternoon at the
inn, until it was too late to think of starting that evening, and the
parting words of the estafette completed her affright.
"Let us return to Rome," said she, putting her arm within her
husband's, and drawing towards him as if for protection - "let us return
to Rome and give up this visit to Naples."
"And give up the visit to your aunt, too," said the husband.
"Nay - what is my aunt in comparison with your safety," said she,
looking up tenderly in his face.
There was something in her tone and manner that showed she really was
Thinking more of her husband's safety at that moment than of her own;
and being recently married, and a match of pure affection, too, it is
very possible that she was. At least her husband thought so. Indeed,
any one who has heard the sweet, musical tone of a Venetian voice, and
the melting tenderness of a Venetian phrase, and felt the soft witchery
of a Venetian eye, would not wonder at the husband's believing whatever
they professed.
He clasped the white hand that had been laid within his, put his arm
round her slender waist, and drawing her fondly to his bosom - "This
night at least," said he, "we'll pass at Terracina."
Crack! crack! crack! crack! crack!
Another apparition of the road attracted the attention of mine host and
his guests. From the road across the Pontine marshes, a carriage drawn
by half a dozen horses, came driving at a furious pace - the postillions
smacking their whips like mad, as is the case when conscious of the
greatness or the munificence of their fare. It was a landaulet, with a
servant mounted on the dickey. The compact, highly finished, yet
proudly simple construction of the carriage; the quantity of neat,
well-arranged trunks and conveniences; the loads of box coats and upper
benjamins on the dickey - and the fresh, burly, gruff-looking face at
the window, proclaimed at once that it was the equipage of an
Englishman.
"Fresh horses to Fondi," said the Englishman, as the landlord came
bowing to the carriage door.
"Would not his Excellenza alight and take some refreshment?"
"No - he did not mean to eat until he got to Fondi!"
"But the horses will be some time in getting ready - "
"Ah. - that's always the case - nothing but delay in this cursed
country."
"If his Excellenza would only walk into the house - "
"No, no, no!
