The Signora did not have to wait long. In less time than it takes to tell this d.i.c.k stood with his best bow before her. How he congratulated himself on having studied Italian! The lady reclined on a sofa. She was about thirty, and undeniably pretty. A guitar lay at her feet. Books were scattered around--French novels, and manuals of devotion. Intelligence beamed from her large, expressive eyes. How delightful! Here was an adventure, perhaps a fair conquest.

"Good-evening, Signor!"

"I kiss the hands to your ladyship," said d.i.c.k, mustering a sentence from Ollendorff.

"Pardon me for this liberty."

"I a.s.sure you it gives me the greatest happiness, and I am wholly at your service."

"I have understood that you are an American."

"I am, Signora."

"And this is your first visit to Naples?"

"My first, Signora."

"How does Naples please you?"

"Exceedingly. The beautiful city, the crowded streets, the delightful views--above all, the most charming ladies."

A bow--a slight flush pa.s.sed over the lady's face, and d.i.c.k whispered to himself--

"Well put, d.i.c.k, my boy--deuced well put for a beginner."

"To come to the point," said the lady, with sigh.--("Ah, here we have it!" thought d.i.c.k--the point--blessed moment!)--"I would not have ventured to trouble you for any slight cause, Signor, but this nearly concerns myself."--(Keep down--our heart, murmured d.i.c.k--cool, you dog--cool!)--"My happiness and my tenderest feelings--"(d.i.c.k's suffused eyes expressed deep sympathy.)--"I thought of you--"

"Ah, Signora!"

"And not being acquainted with you--"(What a shame!--_aside_)--I concluded to waive all formality"--(Social forms are generally a nuisance to ardent souls--_aside_)--"and to communicate at once with you."

"Signora, let me a.s.sure you that this is the happiest moment in my life."

The Signora looked surprised, but went on in a sort of preoccupied way:

"I want to know if you can tell me any thing about my brother."

"Brother!"

"Who is now in America."

d.i.c.k opened his eyes.

"I thought that perhaps you could tell me how he is. I have not heard from him for two years, and feel very anxious."

d.i.c.k sat for a moment surprised at this unexpected turn. The lady's anxiety about her brother he could see was not feigned. So he concealed his disappointment, and in his most engaging manner informed her that he had not seen her brother; but if she could tell him his name, and the place where he was living, he might be able to tell something about him.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Young Hussar.]

"His name," sighed the lady, "is Giulio Fanti."

"And the place?"

"Rio Janeiro."

"Rio Janeiro?"

"Yes," said the lady, slowly.

d.i.c.k was in despair. Not to know any thing of her brother would make her think him stupid. So he attempted to explain:

"America," he began, "is a very large country--larger, in fact, than the whole Kingdom of Naples. It is princ.i.p.ally inhabited by savages, who are very hostile to the whites. The whites have a few cities, however. In the North the whites all speak English. In the South they all speak Spanish. The South Americans are good Catholics, and respect the Holy Father; but the English in the North are all heretics. Consequently there is scarcely any communication between the two districts."

The lady had heard somewhere that in the American wars they employed the savages to a.s.sist them. d.i.c.k acknowledged the truth of this with candor, but with pain. She would see by this why he was unable to tell her any thing about her brother. His not knowing that brother was now the chief sorrow of his life. The lady earnestly hoped that Rio Janeiro was well protected from the savages.

"Oh, perfectly so. The fortifications of that city are impregnable."

d.i.c.k thus endeavored to give the lady an idea of America. The conversation gradually tapered down until the entrance of a gentleman brought it to a close. d.i.c.k bowed himself out.

"At any rate," he murmured, "if the lady wanted to inspect me she had a chance, and if she wanted to pump me she ought to be satisfied."

One evening b.u.t.tons and d.i.c.k came in and found a stranger chatting familiarly with the landlord and a young hussar. The stranger was dressed like a cavalry officer, and was the most astounding fop that the two Americans had ever seen. He paced up and down, head erect, chest thrown out, sabre clanking, spurs jingling, eyes sparkling, ineffable smile. He strode up to the two youths, spun round on one heel, bowed to the ground, waved his hand patronizingly, and welcomed them in.

"A charming night, gallant gentlemen. A bewitching night. All Naples is alive. All the world is going. Are you?"

The young men stared, and coldly asked where?

"Ha, ha, ha!" A merry peal of laughter rang out. "Absolutely--if the young Americans are not stupid. They don't know me!"

"Dolores!" exclaimed b.u.t.tons.

"Yes," exclaimed the other. "How do you like me? Am I natural?--eh?

military? Do I look terrible?"

And Dolores skipped up and down with a strut beyond description, breathing hard and frowning.

"If you look so fierce you will frighten us away," said b.u.t.tons.

"How do I look, now?" she said, standing full before him with folded arms, _a la_ Napoleon at St. Helena.

"Bellissima! Bellissima!" said b.u.t.tons, in unfeigned admiration.