"Hush!"

The crowd saw before them the man whose name and fame had been the subject of conjecture, wonder, applause, and hope for many days.

They beheld in him the Representative of a mighty nation, sent to give them the right hand of fellowship, and welcome their country among the great powers of the earth. In him they saw the embodiment of America!

"Viva!" burst through the air. "The American Emba.s.sador!" "Hurrah for the American Emba.s.sador!" "The Plenipotentiary Extraordinary!"

"He comes to crown our triumph!" "Hurrah for America!" "Free, generous America!" "The first nation to welcome Italy!" "Hurrah!"

"This is the time!" "He will speak!" "Silence!" "Silence!" "He rises!"

"Lo!" "He looks at us!" "Silence!" "Listen to the Most Ill.u.s.trious Plenipotentiary Extraordinary!" "_Hush_! AMERICA SPEAKS!"

Such shouts and exclamations as these burst forth, with many others to the same effect. The crowd in front of the portico where the Senator stood--were almost uncontrollable in their excitement. The Senator rose to the greatness of the occasion. Here was a chance to Speak--to utter forth the deep sympathy of his countrymen with every down-trodden people striving for freedom. He turned to face them and held out his hand. At once the immense a.s.semblage was hushed to silence.

The Senator took off his hat. Never before did he look as he looked now. The grandeur of the occasion had sublimed his usually rugged features into majesty. He looked like the incarnation of a strong, vigorous, invincible people.

The Senator spoke:

"Men of Italy!"

"In the name of the Great Republic!--I congratulate you on this glorious victory! It is a triumph of Liberty!--of the principles of '76!--of the immortal idees!--for which our forefathers fought and died!--at Lexington!--at Bunker Hill!--and at a thousand other places in the great and glorious Revolution!"

The Senator paused. This was enough. It had been spoken in English.

The Italians did not of course understand a word, yet they comprehended all his meaning. As he paused there burst forth a shout of joy such as is heard only once in a life-time; shout upon shout.

The long peals of sound rose up and spread far away over the city.

The vast crowd vibrated like one man to the impulse of the common enthusiasm.

It was too great to last. They rushed to the carriage of _La Cica_.

They unharnessed the horses. They led the Senator to it and made him enter. They flung their tri-colors in. They threw flowers on his lap.

They wound the flag of Italy around the carriage. A thousand marched before it. Thousands more walked beside and behind. They drew him up to his hotel in triumph, and the band struck up the thrilling strain of "Yankee Doodle!"

It would be unfair not to render justice to _La Cica_. She bore the scene admirably. Her beaming face, and l.u.s.trous eyes, and heaving bosom, and majestic air, showed that she appropriated to herself all the honor thus lavished upon the Senator. It was a proud moment for _La Cica_.

"d.i.c.k," said b.u.t.tons, as they descended from their perch.

"Well?"

"How do you feel now?"

"Obliterated. I do not exist. I was once a blot. I am expunged. There is no such thing as d.i.c.k."

"Who could have imagined this?"

"And how he bore it! The Senator is a great man. But come. Don't let us speak for an hour, for we are both unable to talk coherently."

From patriotic motives the two young men walked behind the Senator's carriage and cheered all the way.

Upon arriving at their lodgings in the evening they stationed themselves at the window and looked out upon the illuminated scene.

d.i.c.k, finding his emotions too strong to be restrained, took his trombone and entertained a great crowd for hours with all the national airs he knew.

CHAPTER XLV.

THE PRIVATE OPINION OF THE DOCTOR ABOUT FOREIGN TRAVEL.--b.u.t.tONS STILL MEETS WITH AFFLICTIONS.

"The Italians, of at any rate the people of Florence, have just about as much cuteness as you will find anywhere."

Such was the dictum of the Senator in a conversation with his companions after rejoining them at the hotel. They had much to ask; he had much to tell. Never had he been more critical, more approbative. He felt now that he thoroughly understood the Italian question, and expressed himself in accordance with his consciousness.

"Nothing does a feller so much good," said he, "as mixing in all grades of society. It won't ever do to confine our observation to the lower cla.s.s. We must mingle with the upper crust, who are the leaders of the people."

"Unfortunately," said b.u.t.tons, "we are not all Senators, so we have to do the best we can with our limited opportunities."

They had been in Florence long enough, and now the general desire was to go on. Mr. Figgs and the Doctor had greatly surprised the Senator by informing him that they did not intend to go any further.

And why not?

"Well, for my own part," said Mr. Figgs, "the discomforts of travel are altogether too great. It would not be so bad in the winter, but think how horribly hot it is. What is my condition? That of a man slowly suffocating. Think how fat I am. Even if I had the enthusiasm of d.i.c.k, or the fun of b.u.t.tons, my fat would force me to leave. Can you pretend to be a friend of mine and still urge me to go further?

And suppose we pa.s.sed over into Austrian territory. Perhaps we might be unmolested, but it is doubtful. Suppose, for the sake of argument, that we were arrested and detained. Imagine us--imagine _me_ shut up in a room--or worse, a cell--in the month of July in midsummer, in the hottest part of this burning fiery furnace of a country! What would be left of me at the end of a week, or at the end of even one day? What? A grease spot! A grease spot! Not a bit more, by Jingo!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: A Grease Spot.]

After this speech, which was for him one of extraordinary length and vigor, Mr. Figgs fell exhausted into his chair.

"But you, Doctor," said the Senator, seeing that Mr. Figgs was beyond the reach of persuasion--"you--what reason is there for you to leave? You are young, strong, and certainly not fat."

"No, thank heaven! it is not the heat, or the fear of being suffocated in an Austrian dungeon that influences me."

"What, is the reason?"

"These confounded disturbances," said the Doctor languidly.

"Disturbances?"

"Yes. I hear that the road between this and Bologna swarms with vagabonds. Several diligences have been robbed. I heard a story which shows this state of things. A band of men entered the theatre of a small town along the road while the inhabitants were witnessing the play. At first the spectators thought it was part of the performance. They were soon undeceived. The men drew up in line in front of the stage and levelled their pieces. Then fastening the doors, they sent a number of men around through the house to plunder the whole audience. Not content with this they made the authorities of the town pay a heavy ransom."

"Some one has been humbugging you, Doctor," said b.u.t.tons.

"I had it from good authority," said the Doctor, calmly. "These fellows call themselves Revolutionists, and the peasantry sympathize with them."

"Well, if we meet with them there will be a little additional excitement."

"Yes, and the loss of our watches and money."

"We can carry our money where they won't find it, and our bills of exchange are all right, you know."