"An American! Oh dear! what _will_ become of me!"

"Why," said Lady Dalrymple, "do you know him, then, after all?"

"Oh, I'm _so_ afraid that I know him!"

"Who is it, dear?"

"Oh, Dowdy! Oh, Kitty!"

"What's the matter?"

"It must be that man. Oh, was there _ever_ such a trouble--"

"Really, Minnie dearest, you are allowing yourself to get too agitated. Who _is_ this person?"

"He--he's--an--American."

"An American? Why, I just said that I thought he might be one. I didn't know that you were acquainted with any."

"Oh yes; I did get acquainted with some in--in Canada."

"Oh; and is this man a Canadian?"

"No, Dowdy darling; only an American."

"Well, if he's a friend of yours, I suppose you know something about him. But how singular it is that you have so completely forgotten his name. Atramonte? Why, I'm sure it's a _very_ singular name for an American gentleman--at least it seems so to me--but I don't know much about them, you know. Tell me, darling, who is he?"

"He--he saved my life."

"What! saved your life? Why, my precious child, what _are_ you talking about? It was the Italian that saved your life, you know, not this one."

"Oh, but he did too," said Minnie, despairingly. "I couldn't help it.

He would do it. Papa was washed away. I wish they all wouldn't be so horrid."

Lady Dalrymple looked in an equally despairing manner at Mrs.

Willoughby.

"What is it, Kitty dear? _Is_ the child insane, or what does she mean?

How could this person have saved her life?"

"That's just what distracts me," said Minnie. "They all do it. Every single person comes and saves my life. And now I suppose I must go down and see this person."

"Well, really, since you say he saved your life, perhaps it would be as well not to be uncivil," said Lady Dalrymple; "but, at the same time, he seems to me to act in a very extraordinary manner. And he calls himself a Baron. Do they have n.o.bles in America?"

"I'm sure I don't know, Dowdy dear. I never knew that he was a Baron.

He may have been the son of some American Baron; and--and--I'm sure I don't know."

"Nonsense, Minnie dear," said Mrs. Willoughby. "This man's t.i.tle is a foreign one. He probably obtained it in Italy or Spain, or perhaps Mexico. I think they have t.i.tles in Mexico, though I really don't know."

"Why, of course, one isn't expected to know any thing about America,"

said Lady Dalrymple. "I can mention quite a number of English statesmen, members of the cabinet, and others, who don't know any more about America than I do."

"Do you really intend to go down yourself and see him, Minnie dear?"

asked Mrs. Willoughby.

"How can I help it? What am I to do? I must go, Kitty darling. He is so very positive, and--and he insists so. I don't want to hurt his feelings, you know; and I really think there is nothing for me to do but to go. What do you think about it, Dowdy dear?" and she appealed to her aunt.

"Well, Minnie, my child, I think it would be best not to be unkind or uncivil, since he saved your life."

Upon this Minnie accompanied her sister to see the visitor.

Mrs. Willoughby entered the room first, and Minnie was close behind her, as though she sought protection from some unknown peril. On entering the room they saw a man dressed in Zouave uniform. His hair was cropped short; he wore a mustache and no beard; his features were regular and handsome; while a pair of fine dark eyes were looking earnestly at the door, and the face and the eyes had the expression of one who is triumphantly awaiting the result of some agreeable surprise. Mrs. Willoughby at once recognized the stranger as the Zouave officer who had stared at them near the Church of the Jesuits.

She advanced with lady-like grace toward him, when suddenly he stepped hastily past her, without taking any notice of her, and catching Minnie in his arms, he kissed her several times.

Mrs. Willoughby started back in horror.

Minnie did not resist, nor did she scream, or faint, or do any thing.

She only looked a little confused, and managed to extricate herself, after which she took a seat as far away as she could, putting her sister between her and the Zouave. But the Zouave's joy was full, and he didn't appear to notice it. He settled himself in a chair, and laughed loud in his happiness.

"Only to think of it," said he. "Why, I had no more idea of your being here, Minnie, than _Victory_. Well, here you see me. Only been here a couple of months or so. You got my last favor, of course? And ain't you regular knocked up to see me a Baron? Yes, a Baron--a real, live Baron! I'll tell you all about it. You see I was here two or three years ago--the time of Mentana--and fought on the Pope's side. Odd thing, too, wasn't it, for an American? But so it was. Well, they promoted me, and wanted me to stay. But I couldn't fix it. I had business off home, and was on my way there the time of the shipwreck.

Well, I've been dodgin' all round every where since then, but never forgettin' little Min, mind you, and at last I found myself here, all right. I'd been speculatin' in wines and raisins, and just dropped in here to take pot-luck with some old Zouave friends, when, darn me! if they didn't make me stay. It seems there's squally times ahead. They wanted a live man. They knew I was that live man. They offered me any thing I wanted. They offered me the t.i.tle of Baron Atramonte. That knocked me, I tell you. Says I, I'm your man. So now you see me Baron Atramonte, captain in the Papal Zouaves, ready to go where glory waits me--but fonder than ever of little Min. Oh, I tell you what, I ain't a bit of a brag, but I'm _some_ here. The men think I'm a little the tallest lot in the shape of a commander they ever _did_ see. When I'm in Rome I do as the Romans do, and so I let fly at them a speech every now and then. Why, I've gone through nearly the whole 'National Speaker' by this time. I've given them Marcellus's speech to the mob, Brutus's to the Romans, and Antony's over Caesar's dead body. I tried a bit of Cicero against Catiline, but I couldn't remember it very well.

You know it, of course. _Quousque tandem_, you know."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "CATCHING MINNIE IN HIS ARMS, HE KISSED HER SEVERAL TIMES."]

"Well, Min, how goes it?" he continued. "This _is_ jolly; and, what's more, it's real good in you--darn me if it ain't! I knew you'd be regularly struck up all of a heap when you heard of me as a Baron, but I really didn't think you'd come all the way here to see me. And you do look stunning! You do beat all! And this lady? You haven't introduced me, you know."

The Baron rose, and looked expectantly at Mrs. Willoughby, and then at Minnie. The latter faltered forth some words, among which the Baron caught the names Mrs. Willoughby and Rufus K. Gunn, the latter name p.r.o.nounced, with the middle initial and all, in a queer, prim way.

"Mrs. Willoughby--ah!--Min's sister, I presume. Well, I'm pleased to see you, ma'am. Do you know, ma'am, I have reason to remember your name? It's a.s.sociated with the brightest hours of my life. It was in your parlor, ma'am, that I first obtained Min's promise of her hand.

Your hand, madam."

And, stooping down, he grasped Mrs. Willoughby's hand, which was not extended, and wrung it so hard that she actually gave a little shriek.

"For my part, ma'am," he continued, "I'm not ashamed of my name--not a mite. It's a good, honest name; but being as the Holy Father's gone and made me a n.o.ble, I prefer being addressed by my t.i.tle. All Americans are above t.i.tles. They despise them. But being in Rome, you see, we must do as the Romans do; and so you needn't know me as Rufus K. Gunn, but as the Baron Atramonte. As for you, Min--you and I won't stand on ceremony--you may call me 'Roof,' or any other name you fancy. I would suggest some pet name--something a little loving, you know."

In the midst of all this, which was poured forth with extreme volubility, the servant came and handed a card.

"Count Girasole."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "HAWBURY, AS I'M A LIVING SINNER!"]

CHAPTER XV.

THE AMERICAN BARON.