The Moon Endureth | Page 5

and unpredictable. I forgot my grievous thirst
and my tired feet in admiration and a certain vague expectation of
wonders. Here, ran my thought, it is fated, maybe, that romance and I

shall at last compass a meeting. Perchance some princess is in need of
my arm, or some affair of high policy is afoot in this jumble of old
masonry. You will laugh at my folly, but I had an excuse for it. A
fortnight in strange mountains disposes a man to look for something at
his next encounter with his kind, and the sight of Santa Chiara would
have fired the imagination of a judge in Chancery.
I strode happily into the courtyard of the Tre Croci, and presently had
my expectation confirmed for I found my fellow,--a faithful rogue I got
in Rome on a Cardinal's recommendation,--hot in dispute with a lady's
maid. The woman was old, harsh-featured--no Italian clearly, though
she spoke fluently in the tongue. She rated my man like a pickpocket,
and the dispute was over a room.
"The signor will bear me out," said Gianbattista. "Was not I sent to
Verona with his baggage, and thence to this place of ill manners? Was I
not bidden engage for him a suite of apartments? Did I not duly choose
these fronting on the gallery, and dispose therein the signor's baggage?
And lo! an hour ago I found it all turned into the yard and this woman
installed in its place. It is monstrous, unbearable! Is this an inn for
travellers, or haply the private mansion of these Magnificences?"
"My servant speaks truly," I said firmly yet with courtesy, having no
mind to spoil adventure by urging rights. "He had orders to take these
rooms for me, and I know not what higher power can countermand
me."
The woman had been staring at me scornfully, for no doubt in my dusty
habit I was a figure of small count; but at the sound of my voice she
started, and cried out, "You are English, signor?"
I bowed an admission. "Then my mistress shall speak with you," she
said, and dived into the inn like an elderly rabbit.
Gianbattista was for sending for the landlord and making a riot in that
hostelry; but I stayed him, and bidding him fetch me a flask of white
wine, three lemons, and a glass of eau de vie, I sat down peaceably at
one of the little tables in the courtyard and prepared for the quenching
of my thirst. Presently, as I sat drinking that excellent compound of my
own invention, my shoulder was touched, and I turned to find the maid
and her mistress. Alas for my hopes of a glorious being, young and
lissom and bright with the warm riches of the south! I saw a short, stout
little lady, well on the wrong side of thirty. She had plump red cheeks,

and fair hair dressed indifferently in the Roman fashion. Two candid
blue eyes redeemed her plainness, and a certain grave and gentle
dignity. She was notably a gentlewoman, so I got up, doffed my hat,
and awaited her commands.
She spoke in Italian. "Your pardon,signor, but I fear my good Cristine
has done you unwittingly a wrong."
Cristine snorted at this premature plea of guilty, while I hastened to
assure the fair apologist that any rooms I might have taken were freely
at her service.
I spoke unconsciously in English, and she replied in a halting parody of
that tongue. "I understand him," she said, "but I do not speak him
happily. I will discourse, if the signor pleases, in our first speech."
She and her father, it appeared, had come over the Brenner, and arrived
that morning at the Tre Croci, where they purposed to lie for some days.
He was an old man, very feeble, and much depending upon her
constant care. Wherefore it was necessary that the rooms of all the
party should adjoin, and there was no suite of the size in the inn save
that which I had taken. Would I therefore consent to forgo my right,
and place her under an eternal debt?
I agreed most readily, being at all times careless where I sleep, so the
bed be clean, or where I eat, so the meal be good. I bade my servant see
the landlord and have my belongings carried to other rooms. Madame
thanked me sweetly, and would have gone, when a thought detained
her.
"It is but courteous," she said, "that you should know the names of
those whom you have befriended. My father is called the Count
d'Albani, and I am his only daughter. We travel to Florence, where we
have a villa in the environs."
"My name," said I, "is Hervey-Townshend, an Englishman travelling
abroad for