DICK ON THE SICK LIST.--RAPTURE OF BUTTONS AT MAKING AN IMPORTANT
DISCOVERY.
Great was the surprise of all on the following morning at finding that
Dick was confined to his bed. All were very anxious, and even Buttons
showed considerable feeling. For as much as a quarter of an hour he
ceased thinking about the Spaniards. Poor Dick! What on earth was the
matter? Had he fever? No. Perhaps it was the damp night-air. He should
not have been out so late. Where was he? A confounded pity! The Doctor
felt his pulse. There was no fever. The patient was very pale, and
evidently in great pain. His complaint was a mystery. However, the
Doctor recommended perfect quiet, and hoped that a few days would
restore him. Dick said not a word about the events of the evening. He
thought it would do no good to tell them. He was in great pain. His
body was black with frightful bruises, and the depression of his mind
was as deep as the pain of his body.
The others went out at their usual hour.
The kind-hearted Senator remained at home all day, and sat by Dick's
bedside, sometimes talking, sometimes reading. Dick begged him not to
put himself to so much inconvenience on his account; but such language
was distasteful to the Senator.
"My boy," he said, "I know that you would do as much for me. Besides,
it is a far greater pleasure to do any thing for you than to walk
about merely to gratify myself. Don't apologize, or tell me that I am
troubling myself. Leave me to do as I please."
Dick's grateful look expressed more than words.
In a few days his pain had diminished, and it was evident that he
would be out in a fortnight or so. The kind attentions of his friends
affected him greatly. They all spent more time than ever in his room,
and never came there without bringing some little trifle, such as
grapes, oranges, or other fruit. The Senator hunted all over Rome for
a book, and found Victor Hugo's works, which he bought on a venture,
and had the gratification of seeing that it was acceptable.
All suspected something. The Doctor had contended from the first that
Dick had met with an accident. They had too much delicacy to question
him, but made many conjectures amongst themselves. The Doctor thought
that he had been among some ruins, and met with a fall. Mr. Figgs
suggested that he might have been run over. The Senator thought it was
some Italian epidemic. Buttons was incapable of thinking rationally
about any thing just then. He was the victim of a monomania: the
Spaniards!
About a week after Dick's adventure Buttons was strolling about on
his usual quest, when he was attracted by a large crowd around the
Chiesa di Gesu. The splendid equipages of the cardinals were crowded
about the principal entrance, and from the interior sounds of music
came floating magnificently down. Buttons went in to see what was
going on. A vast crowd filled the church. Priests in gorgeous
vestments officiated at the high altar, which was all ablaze with
the light of enormous wax-candles. The gloom of the interior was
heightened by the clouds of incense that rolled on high far within
the vaulted ceiling.
[Illustration: Poor Dick!]
The Pope was there. In one of the adjoining chambers he was performing
a ceremony which sometimes takes place in this church. Guided by
instinct, Buttons pressed his way into the chamber. A number of people
filled it. Suddenly he uttered an exclamation.
Just as His Holiness was rising to leave, Buttons saw the group that
had filled his thoughts for weeks.
The Spaniards! No mistake this time. And he had been right all along.
All his efforts had, after all, been based on something tangible. Not
in vain had he had so many walks, runnings, chasings, searchings,
strolls, so many hopes, fears, desires, discouragements. He was
right! Joy, rapture, bliss, ecstasy, delight! There they were: _the
little Don_--THE DONNA--IDA!
Buttons, lost for a while in the crowd, and pressed away, never lost
sight of the Spaniards. They did not see him, however, until, as
they slowly moved out, they were stopped and greeted with astonishing
eagerness. The Don shook hands cordially. The Donna--that is, the
elder sister--smiled sweetly. Ida blushed and cast down her eyes.
Nothing could be more gratifying than this reception. Where had he
been? How long in Rome? Why had they not met before? Strange that
they had not seen him about the city. And had he really been here
three weeks? Buttons informed them that he had seen them several
times, but at a distance. He had been at all the hotels, but had
not seen their names.
Hotels! Oh, they lived in lodgings in the Palazzo Concini, not far
from the Piazza del Popolo. And how much longer did he intend to
stay?--Oh, no particular time. His friends enjoyed themselves here
very much. He did not know exactly when they would leave. How long
would they remain?--They intended to leave for Florence on the
following week.--Ah! He was thinking of leaving for the same place
at about the same time. Whereupon the Don expressed a polite hope
that they might see one another on the journey.
By this time the crowd had diminished. They looked on while the Pope
entered his state-coach, and with strains of music, and prancing of
horses, and array of dragoons, drove magnificently away.
The Don turned to Buttons: Would he not accompany them to their
lodgings? They were just about returning to dinner. If he were
disengaged they should be most happy to have the honor of his
company.
Buttons tried very hard to look as though he were not mad with
eagerness to accept the invitation, but not very successfully. The
carriage drove off rapidly. The Don and Buttons on one seat, the
ladies on the other.
Then the face of Ida as she sat opposite! Such a face! Such a smile!
Such witchery in her expression! Such music in her laugh!
At any rate so it seemed to Buttons, and that is all that is needed.
On through the streets of Rome; past the post-office, round the column
of Antoninus, up the Corso, until at last they stopped in front of
an immense edifice which had once been a palace. The descendants of
the family lived in a remote corner, and their poverty compelled them
to let out all the remainder as lodgings. This is no uncommon thing
in Italy. Indeed, there are so many ruined nobles in the country that
those are fortunate who have a shelter over their heads. Buttons
remarked this to the Don, who told some stories of these fallen
nobles. He informed him that in Naples their laundress was said to be
the last scion of one of the most ancient families in the kingdom.
She was a countess in her own right, but had to work at menial labor.
Moreover, many had sunk down to the grade of peasantry, and lived in
squalor on lands which were once the estates of their ancestors.
Buttons spent the evening there. The rooms were elegant. Books lay
around which showed a cultivated taste. The young man felt himself in
a realm of enchantment. The joy of meeting was heightened by their
unusual complaisance. During the evening he found out all about them.
They lived in Cadiz, where the Don was a merchant. This was their
first visit to Italy.
They all had fine perceptions for the beautiful in art or nature,
and, besides, a keen sense of the ludicrous. So, when Buttons, growing
communicative, told them about Mr. Figgs's adventure in the ball of
St. Peter's, they were greatly amused. He told about the adventures
of all his friends. He told of himself: all about the chase in Naples
Bay, and his pursuit of their carriage from St. Peter's. He did not
tell them that he had done this more than once. Ida was amused; but
Buttons felt gratified at seeing a little confusion on her face, as
though she was conscious of the real cause of such a persevering
pursuit. She modestly evaded his glance, and sat at a little
distance from the others. Indeed, she said but little during the
whole evening.
When Buttons left he felt like a spiritual being. He was not conscious
of treading on any material earth, but seemed to float along through
enchanted air over the streets into his lodgings, and so on into the
realm of dreams.