Part 10 (1/2)

”Ah!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Dolores, smacking her lips, and puffing out her little dimpled cheeks. ”Oh!” and her eyes sparkled more brightly with perfect joy and self-contentment.

”And what is all this for?”

”Is it possible that you do not know?”

”I have no idea.”

”Then listen. It is at the Royal Opera-house. It will be the greatest masquerade ball ever given.”

”Oh--a masquerade ball!--and you?”

”I? I go as a handsome young officer to break the hearts of the ladies, and have such rare sport. My brave cousin, yonder gallant soldier, goes with me.”

The brave cousin, who was a big, heavy-headed fellow, grinned in acknowledgment, but said nothing.

The Royal Opera-house at Naples is the largest, the grandest, and the most capacious in the world. An immense stage, an enormous pit all thrown into one vast room, surrounded by innumerable boxes, all rising, tier above tier--myriads of dancers, myriads of masks, myriads of spectators--so the scene appeared. Moreover, the Neapolitan is a born buffoon. Nowhere is he so natural as at a masquerade. The music, the crowd, the brilliant lights, the incessant motion are all intoxication to this impressible being.

The Senator lent the countenance of his presence--not from curiosity, but from benevolent desire to keep his young friends out of trouble.

He narrowly escaped being prohibited from entering by making an outrageous fuss at the door about some paltry change. He actually imagined that it was possible to get the right change for a large coin in Naples.

The mult.i.tudes of moving forms made the new-comers dizzy. There were all kinds of fantastic figures. Lions polked with sylphs, crocodiles chased serpents, giants walked arm in arm with dwarfs, elephants on two legs ran nimbly about, beating every body with hope probosces of inflated India rubber. Pretty girls in dominos abounded; every body whose face was visible was on the broad grin. All cla.s.ses were represented. The wealthier n.o.bles entered into the spirit of the scene with as great gusto as the humblest artisan who treated his obscure sweet-heart with an entrance ticket.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A Perplexed Senator.]

Our friends all wore black dominos, ”just for the fun of the thing.”

Every body knew that they were English or American, which is just the same; for Englishmen and Americans are universally recognizable by the rigidity of their muscles.

A bevy of masked beauties were attracted by the colossal form of the Senator. To say that he was bewildered would express his sensations but faintly. He was distracted. He looked for b.u.t.tons. b.u.t.tons was chatting with a little domino. He turned to d.i.c.k. d.i.c.k was walking off with a rhinoceros. To Figgs and the Doctor. Figgs and the Doctor were exchanging glances with a couple of lady codfishes and trying to look amiable. The Senator gave a sickly smile.

”What'n thunder'll I do?” he muttered.

Two dominos took either arm. A third stood smilingly before him. A fourth tried to appropriate his left hand.

”Will your Excellency dance with one of us at a time,” said No. 4, with a Tuscan accent, ”or will you dance with all of us at once?”

The Senator looked helplessly at her.

”He does not know how,” said No 1. ”He has pa.s.sed his life among the stars.”

”Begone, irreverent ones!” said No. 3. ”This is an American prince.

He said I should be his partner.”

”Boh! malidetta!” cried No. 2. ”He told me the same; but he said he was a Milor Inglese.”

No. 4 thereupon gave a smart pull at the Senator's hand to draw him off. Whereupon No. 2 did the same. No. 3 began singing ”Come e bello!”

and No. 1 stood coaxing him to ”Fly with her.” A crowd of idlers gathered grinningly around.