Part 78 (1/2)
”Truly you have some very beautiful articles,” said Montardo. ”You will be charmed with them, Cicernachi; it will be another opportunity to annoy the Teresiani. Look at this merchant's fans.”
The stranger opened several fans. Cicernachi's eyes sparkled with delight at the sight of the painting. ”How many have you, signor?” said he.
”Twelve.”
”I take them all, and regret you have not more.”
”But Cicernachi, where has all your wisdom gone to?” cried Montardo.
”You have not even asked the price; or do you, perhaps, think the stranger gives them to you for nothing?”
”No, no; I forgot it,” said Cicernachi, gazing with delight at the fans which the stranger was spreading out before him. ”What is their price, signor?”
The stranger was silent for a moment, and then said, in a hesitating manner: ”I paid ten francs for each fan in Geneva.”
”I give twice that,” said Cicernachi, quickly.
The stranger started up hastily, blus.h.i.+ng with annoyance. ”Sir,” said he, ”I take from no one a higher price than I gave.”
”Ah, signor, signor,” cried Montardo, ”you have again forgotten that you are but a merchant. No merchant sells his goods for what he gave for them. Remember that.”
”I will make a good business with these fans,” said Cicernachi. ”I give you twenty-four francs, and will ask fifty for them. The ladies of our n.o.bility, many of whom are Prussiani, will be delighted to annoy their opponents in so elegant a manner. Are you content, sir?”
”I am satisfied,” said the stranger, blus.h.i.+ng with embarra.s.sment.
”Is this all you have for sale?”
”No, I have something else,” said the stranger, opening another package.
”As you are Prussiano, these neat little coins and medals, with pretty caricatures of the enemies of the king on them, will no doubt please you.”
”Ah, let us see them,” cried both Italians. They examined with eagerness the medals upon which the enemies of Frederick were represented in various laughable situations and positions.
”I take them all!” cried Cicernachi, enraptured.
The stranger laughed. ”I cannot sell you my whole business,” said he; ”I must retain something. I will give you one of each. You must accept them as a token of my esteem, and must not pay me for them.”
”Signor!” cried Montardo, in an imploring tone, ”remain at my hotel as long as you please, and when I bring you your bill lay some of these coins upon it, and I shall be richly paid.”
The stranger promised: then having received, with visible annoyance, the money for the fans, left the store with Montardo to pay his visit to the Convent Giovanni e Paolo.
CHAPTER III. THE CLOISTER BROTHERS OF SAN GIOVANNI E PAOLO.
The Prior of San Giovanni e Paolo had just returned from the second ma.s.s celebrated in the beautiful church of his cloister, the burial-place of the great t.i.tiano Vicelli. With his arms folded across his back, he walked slowly and thoughtfully backward and forward, then stood before a large table at which a monk was occupied in unfolding letters and maps.
”This, your wors.h.i.+p,” said the monk, opening a new paper, ”is an exact plan of the region around Mayen; we have just received it, and the positions of the two armies are plainly marked down. If agreeable to your wors.h.i.+p, I will read the bulletins aloud, and you can follow the movements of the troops upon the map.”
The prior shook his head softly. ”No, Brother Anselmo, do not read again the triumphant bulletins of the Austrians and Russians; they pain my ears and my heart. Let us rather look at the map to see if the present position of the army offers any ground of hope.”
”I have marked it all out with pins,” said Father Anselmo; ”the black pins signify the army of the allies, the white pins the army of the King of Prussia.”