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"And the low rent, Bertrand--don't you take that into account?"
"If there wasn't anybody but the old landlady in the house, you wouldn't have been tempted to come here to live."
"That may be; but if I can enjoy the company of a pretty woman, and at the same time reduce my expenses, it seems to me, Bertrand, that you can't object to that."
Bertrand said no more; he went into a corner and filled his pipe, and as it was growing dark, Auguste went to his landladies' room to ask for a light. The old lady was absent, but her niece was there, and our Frenchman, overjoyed at the opportunity of a tete-a-tete with the fair Cecilia, sat down beside the young woman, who seemed less shy at home than on the street, and who replied with a smile to the soft avowals that he addressed to her. The conversation lasted until very late.
Auguste forgot Bertrand, who was without a light; he was in a fair way to forget a great many things, but Signora Falenza returned and by her presence revived his memory. He went up to his own room; Bertrand had thrown himself on the bed and was asleep. Auguste did not think it best to wake him, and he too fell asleep, his mind full of the fascinating Cecilia's image, convinced that he had never been more comfortably bedded.
Three days pa.s.sed in the new lodgings. Auguste almost never went out; he watched for opportunities for a tete-a-tete with Cecilia; but the aunt was seldom absent and kept a much closer watch upon her niece. However, Auguste obtained a sweet avowal; he knew that he was beloved; but that was not enough, and Cecilia's eyes seemed to promise him more.
Bertrand had become accustomed to his new quarters; but he said to his master every day:
"You came to Italy to study and work, monsieur; instead of doing that, you pa.s.s all your time running after our young landlady."
"Cecilia is teaching me to speak Italian better, Bertrand; and I am teaching her French."
"I don't see what good this reciprocal teaching will do you."
"Why, the pleasure of it, Bertrand--is that to be counted nothing?"
"Are we travelling for pleasure?"
"Not entirely; but, when it offers itself, why not make the most of it?"
"Remember, monsieur, that your pleasures have always cost you dear."
"You can't say that I am squandering my money here; I have never been so quiet and orderly. I never go out; these ladies, when I invited them to go to the theatre, declined."
"I agree that they are stay-at-homes and don't try to make you take them all over the city. But I don't like that old Falenza with her reverences and her compliments."
"Really, Bertrand, you are getting to be too particular. When you travel, my friend, you must accustom yourself to the idea of finding different customs and different manners."
"True, monsieur; but I'm very much afraid that the foundation is the same everywhere! Selfish men, coquettish women, schemers who make a great show of wealth in order to make dupes more easily, rascals who open their mouths only to lie; and here and there a few honest people, who nevertheless consider their own interests before everything. I fancy that that's what we shall find in every country."
"Travelling makes you very eloquent, Bertrand. Write down your reflections; I'll read them--when we return to France."
"It will be high time, monsieur."
Auguste was no longer listening to his companion; he had overheard Cecilia's voice, and he went to her. But the young Italian had but a moment to speak to him, as her aunt would soon return. Yielding to the young man's urgent entreaties, she gave him an a.s.signation for the next day. A pretty little wood, about a fourth of a league from the city, was the spot to which Cecilia was to go secretly. The time was agreed upon, and they parted, to avoid arousing her aunt's suspicions.
Auguste returned to his room with the inward satisfaction that one always feels at the approach of a long-desired moment. Never did evening seem longer to him, and he retired early so that the morrow would come the sooner.
Day broke at last. Auguste rose, dressed himself with care, and went out, leaving Bertrand still asleep. The place appointed for the meeting was a very long way from Signora Falenza's abode; but Auguste supposed that Cecilia had chosen it from prudential motives. He traversed a large part of the city, followed the bank of the Po, and at last reached the little wood, where he hoped soon to see his young landlady.
He waited patiently a long while; hope sustained him; it must be that some accident had kept Cecilia at home. But several hours pa.s.sed and the fair Italian did not come. Auguste, weary of walking back and forth on the same spot, decided at last to return to the house, cursing the mischance that had prevented Cecilia from keeping her appointment.
As he approached the suburb where he lived, Auguste saw Bertrand in front of him, evidently returning home, like himself; he quickened his pace in order to overtake him. When the ex-corporal caught sight of his master, he uttered a cry of joy, saying:
"Morbleu! you are not wounded?"
"Why in the devil should I be wounded?" demanded Auguste.
"What would there be so surprising about it, monsieur, when you have been fighting a duel?"
"A duel--I?"
"At all events that's what our landlady told me this morning; she declared that a young man called for you at daybreak, and that from the few words that fell from you she gathered that there was a duel in the wind."
"Parbleu! this is very strange!"
"She even mentioned several places where she thought you might have gone to settle your dispute; so that, since early morning, I've been running in all directions, and have been well laughed at by everybody that I asked if they'd seen two men fighting."
"I don't understand it at all, Bertrand."
"Do you mean to say that it isn't all true?"
"There isn't a word of truth in it."
"Ah! that old signora shall learn that I'm not to be made a fool of like this."
"Let's hurry, Bertrand."
"What's the matter, lieutenant? You seem anxious."
"Yes. I'm afraid that the niece has made a fool of me too. Here have I been waiting for her in vain three hours and more at the other end of the city."
"Ten thousand bullets! there's something very crooked in this long excursion they made us both take. Didn't I tell you, lieutenant, that the old woman made too many reverences?"
"Perhaps we are frightened without cause. But here we are. Knock, Bertrand."
Bertrand knocked, but no one opened the door. He knocked again until the window panes rattled, and there was no response.
"What does this mean, lieutenant?" he cried, looking at Auguste.
"Why, it means that there's no one here, that is very certain."
"Still, we must get in."
As he spoke, he broke in the door with a kick, and entered the house, followed by his master. It was deserted; they had carried off everything except a few wretched pieces of furniture, and the travellers' apartment too was dismantled.
"We are robbed, monsieur," said Bertrand.
"It looks to me very much like it, my friend."
"Did you leave our money here?"
"Alas! yes, in the desk. It was all there except these ten gold pieces that I have in my pocket."