"Ah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Dolores, smacking her lips, and puffing out her little dimpled cheeks. "Oh!" and her eyes sparkled more brightly with perfect joy and self-contentment.

"And what is all this for?"

"Is it possible that you do not know?"

"I have no idea."

"Then listen. It is at the Royal Opera-house. It will be the greatest masquerade ball ever given."

"Oh--a masquerade ball!--and you?"

"I? I go as a handsome young officer to break the hearts of the ladies, and have such rare sport. My brave cousin, yonder gallant soldier, goes with me."

The brave cousin, who was a big, heavy-headed fellow, grinned in acknowledgment, but said nothing.

The Royal Opera-house at Naples is the largest, the grandest, and the most capacious in the world. An immense stage, an enormous pit all thrown into one vast room, surrounded by innumerable boxes, all rising, tier above tier--myriads of dancers, myriads of masks, myriads of spectators--so the scene appeared. Moreover, the Neapolitan is a born buffoon. Nowhere is he so natural as at a masquerade. The music, the crowd, the brilliant lights, the incessant motion are all intoxication to this impressible being.

The Senator lent the countenance of his presence--not from curiosity, but from benevolent desire to keep his young friends out of trouble.

He narrowly escaped being prohibited from entering by making an outrageous fuss at the door about some paltry change. He actually imagined that it was possible to get the right change for a large coin in Naples.

The mult.i.tudes of moving forms made the new-comers dizzy. There were all kinds of fantastic figures. Lions polked with sylphs, crocodiles chased serpents, giants walked arm in arm with dwarfs, elephants on two legs ran nimbly about, beating every body with hope probosces of inflated India rubber. Pretty girls in dominos abounded; every body whose face was visible was on the broad grin. All cla.s.ses were represented. The wealthier n.o.bles entered into the spirit of the scene with as great gusto as the humblest artisan who treated his obscure sweet-heart with an entrance ticket.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A Perplexed Senator.]

Our friends all wore black dominos, "just for the fun of the thing."

Every body knew that they were English or American, which is just the same; for Englishmen and Americans are universally recognizable by the rigidity of their muscles.

A bevy of masked beauties were attracted by the colossal form of the Senator. To say that he was bewildered would express his sensations but faintly. He was distracted. He looked for b.u.t.tons. b.u.t.tons was chatting with a little domino. He turned to d.i.c.k. d.i.c.k was walking off with a rhinoceros. To Figgs and the Doctor. Figgs and the Doctor were exchanging glances with a couple of lady codfishes and trying to look amiable. The Senator gave a sickly smile.

"What'n thunder'll I do?" he muttered.

Two dominos took either arm. A third stood smilingly before him. A fourth tried to appropriate his left hand.

"Will your Excellency dance with one of us at a time," said No. 4, with a Tuscan accent, "or will you dance with all of us at once?"

The Senator looked helplessly at her.

"He does not know how," said No 1. "He has pa.s.sed his life among the stars."

"Begone, irreverent ones!" said No. 3. "This is an American prince.

He said I should be his partner."

"Boh! malidetta!" cried No. 2. "He told me the same; but he said he was a Milor Inglese."

No. 4 thereupon gave a smart pull at the Senator's hand to draw him off. Whereupon No. 2 did the same. No. 3 began singing "Come e bello!"

and No. 1 stood coaxing him to "Fly with her." A crowd of idlers gathered grinningly around.

"My goodness!" groaned the Senator. "Me! The--the representative of a respectable const.i.tuency; the elder of a Presbyterian church; the president of a temperance society; the deliverer of that famous Fourth of July oration; the father of a family--me! to be treated thus! Who air these females? Air they countesses? Is this the way the foreign n.o.bility treat an American citizen?"

But the ladies pulled and the crowd grinned. The Senator endeavored to remonstrate. Then he tried to pull his arms away; but finding that impossible he looked in a piteous manner, first at one, and then at the other.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Exit Senator.]

"He wants, I tell you, to be my partner," said No. 1.

"Bah!" cried No. 2, derisively; "he intends to be mine. I understand the national dance of his country--the famous jeeg Irelandese."

"MRS.!!!"

The Senator shouted this one word in a stentorian voice. The ladies dropped his arms and started.

"I say, Mrs.!" cried the Senator. "Look here. Me no speeky _I_talian--me American. Me come just see zee fun, you know--zee spaort--you und-stand? Ha? Hum!"

The ladies clapped their hands, and cried "Bravo!"

Quite a crowd gathered around them. The Senator, impressed with the idea that, to make foreigners understand, it was only necessary to yell loud enough, bawled so loudly that ever so many dancers stopped.

Among these b.u.t.tons came near with the little Domino. Little Domino stopped, laughed, clapped her hands, and pointed to the Senator.

The Senator was yelling vehemently in broken English to a large crowd of masks. He told them that he had a large family; that he owned a factory; that he was a man of weight, character, influence, popularity, wealth; that he came here merely to study their manners and customs. He disclaimed any intention to partic.i.p.ate in their amus.e.m.e.nts just then, or to make acquaintances.--He would be proud to visit them all at their houses, or see them at his apartments, or--or --in short, would be happy to do any thing if they would only let him go in peace.

The crowd laughed, chattered, and shouted "Bravo!" at every pause. The Senator was covered with shame and perspiration. What would have become of him finally it is impossible to guess; but, fortunately, at this extremity he caught sight of b.u.t.tons. To dash away from the charming ladies, to burst through the crowd, and to seize the arm of b.u.t.tons was but the work of a moment.

"b.u.t.tons! b.u.t.tons! b.u.t.tons! Help me! These confounded _I_talian wimmin! Take them away. Tell them to leave me be. Tell them I don't know them--don't want to have them hanging round me. Tell them _I'm your father_!" cried the Senator, his voice rising to a shout in his distraction and alarm.

About 970 people were around him by this time.

"Goodness!" said b.u.t.tons; "you are in a fix. Why did you make yourself so agreeable? and to so many? Why, it's too bad. One at a time!"

"b.u.t.tons," said the Senator, solemnly, "is this the time for joking?

For Heaven's sake get me away."

"Come then; you must run for it."

He seized the Senator's right arm. The little Domino clung to the other. Away they started. It was a full run. A shout arose. So arises the shout in Rome along the bellowing Corso when the horses are starting for the Carnival races. It was a long, loud shout, gathering and growing and deepening as it rose, till it burst on high in one grand thunder-clap of sound.

Away the Senator went like the wind. The dense crowd parted on either side with a rush. The Opera-house is several hundred feet in length.

Down this entire distance the Senator ran, accompanied by b.u.t.tons and the little Domino. Crowds cheered him as he pa.s.sed. Behind him the pa.s.sage-way closed up, and a long trail of screaming maskers pressed after him. The louder they shouted the faster the Senator ran. At length they reached the other end.

"Do you see that box?" asked b.u.t.tons, pointing to one on the topmost tier.

"Yes, yes."

"Fly! Run for your life! It's your only hope. Get in there and hide till we go."