Part 70 (1/2)
[Ill.u.s.tration: Watts Mis-spelled.]
”Give these gentlemen our apologies,” said he to the Interpreter.
”In times of trouble, when States have to be held subject to martial law, proceedings are abrupt. Their own good sense will, I trust, enable them to appreciate the difficulty of our position.
They are at liberty.”
At liberty! No sooner were the words spoken than the prisoners bowed and left, in company with the Consul, who eagerly shook hands with all three--particularly the Senator, who, as they were leaving, was heard to whisper something in which these words were audible:
”Wa'al, old hoss! The American eagle showed it claws, anyhow.”
CHAPTER LIII.
A MYSTERIOUS FLIGHT.--DESPAIR OF b.u.t.tONS.--PURSUIT.--HISTORIC GROUND, AND HISTORIC CITIES.
It was about seven o'clock in the evening when they reached their hotel. Every thing was as they had left it. Some trifles had occurred, such as a general overhaul of the baggage, in which the Doctor's pistol had again miraculously escaped seizure. b.u.t.tons went immediately to call on the Spaniards, but their apartment was closed. Supposing that they were out about the town, he returned to his friends.
During their memorable captivity they had eaten but little, and now nothing was more welcome than a dinner. So they ordered the very best that the hotel could supply, and made the American Consul stay.
b.u.t.tons did not give himself up so completely as the rest to the hilarity of the occasion. Something was on his mind. So he took advantage of a conversation in which the Senator was giving the Consul an animated description of the fight with the brigands, and the pluck of his two ”boys,” and stole out of the room. Whereupon the Senator stopped and remarked--
”Hang these fellows that are in love!”
”Certainly,” said d.i.c.k. ”They often hang themselves, or feel like it.”
”Of course b.u.t.tons is on his usual errand.”
”Of course.”
”It seems to me that his foreign travel has become nothing but one long chase after that gal. He is certainly most uncommon devoted.”
Scarce had these words been spoken when the door was flung open, and b.u.t.tons made his appearance, much agitated.
”What's the matter?” cried d.i.c.k. ”The Spaniards!” ”Well?” ”They're off!” ”Off?” ”Gone!” ”Where?” ”Away from Venice.” ”When?” ”I don't know.” ”Why?” ”I don't know.”
”What sent them? It looks as though they were running away from you on purpose.”
”They're off, at any rate!” cried b.u.t.tons. ”I went to their room.
It was open. The servants were fixing it up. I asked why. They said the Spaniards had left Venice early this morning. They did not know any thing more.”
”Strange!”
”Strange, of course. It's so sudden. Their plans were laid out for a week in Venice.”
”Perhaps they were frightened at our adventure.”
b.u.t.tons sprung to the bell and pulled it vigorously. Then he rushed to the door and flung it open. Five or six waiters came tumbling in.
They had all been listening at the key-hole.