He Turned And Beheld Five Or Six Young Fellows, Of Rough, Saucy
Demeanor, Clad In A Singular Manner, Half Peasant, Half Huntsman, With
Fusils In Their Hands.
Their whole appearance and carriage left him in
no doubt into what company he had fallen.
The doctor was a feeble little man poor, in look and poorer in purse.
He had but little money in his pocket; but he had certain valuables,
such as an old silver watch, thick as a turnip, with figures on it
large enough for a clock, and a set of seals at the end of a steel
chain, that dangled half down to his knees; all which were of precious
esteem, being family reliques. He had also a seal ring, a veritable
antique intaglio, that covered half his knuckles; but what he most
valued was, the precious treatise on the Pelasgian cities, which, he
would gladly have given all the money in his pocket to have had safe at
the bottom of his trunk in Terracina.
However, he plucked up a stout heart; at least as stout a heart as he
could, seeing that he was but a puny little man at the hest of times.
So he wished the hunters a "buon giorno." They returned his salutation,
giving the old gentleman a sociable slap on the back that made his
heart leap into his throat.
They fell into conversation, and walked for some time together among
The heights, the doctor wishing them all the while at the bottom of the
crater of Vesuvius. At length they came to a small osteria on the
mountain, where they proposed to enter and have a cup of wine together.
The doctor consented; though he would as soon have been invited to
drink hemlock.
One of the gang remained sentinel at the door; the others swaggered
into the house; stood their fusils in a corner of the room; and each
drawing a pistol or stiletto out of his belt, laid it, with some
emphasis, on the table. They now called lustily for wine; drew benches
round the table, and hailing the doctor as though he had been a boon
companion of long standing, insisted upon his sitting down and making
merry. He complied with forced grimace, but with fear and trembling;
sitting on the edge of his bench; supping down heartburn with every
drop of liquor; eyeing ruefully the black muzzled pistols, and cold,
naked stilettos. They pushed the bottle bravely, and plied him
vigorously; sang, laughed, told excellent stories of robberies and
combats, and the little doctor was fain to laugh at these cut-throat
pleasantries, though his heart was dying away at the very bottom of his
bosom.
By their own account they were young men from the villages, who had
Recently taken up this line of life in the mere wild caprice of youth.
They talked of their exploits as a sportsman talks of his amusements.
To shoot down a traveller seemed of little more consequence to them
than to shoot a hare.
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