Part 71 (1/2)

”Signore, they had their pa.s.sports made out for Milan.”

”Milan!”

”Certainly. It was necessary for them not only to leave Venice, but Venetia.”

”Very well. When does the next train leave?”

”Not till to-morrow morning at six.”

”You must call us then at five, for we are going. Here, take our pa.s.sports and get them vised;” and having explained matters to the Senator, b.u.t.tons found no need of persuasion to induce them to quit the city, so the pa.s.sports were handed over to the waiter.

So at six the next morning they went flying over the sea, over the lagoons, over the marshes, over the plains, away toward Lombardy.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Formalities.]

They had to stop for a while at Verona, waiting to comply with ”some formalities.” They had time to walk about the town and see the Roman ruins and the fortifications. Of all these much might be said, if it were not to be found already in Guide-books, Letters of Correspondents, Books of Travel, Gazetteers, and Ill.u.s.trated Newspapers. Our travellers saw enough of the mighty military works, in a brief survey, to make them thoroughly comprehend the Peace of Villafranca. In the neighborhood of Solferino they left the train to inspect the scene of battle. Only a month had pa.s.sed since the terrific contest, and the traces remained visible on every side. The peasants had made two trenches of enormous size. In one of these the bodies of the Austrians had been buried, in the other those of the French and Italians. In one place there was a vast heap of arms, which had been gathered from off the field. There was no piece among them which was not bent or broken. All were of the best construction and latest pattern, but had seen their day. Shattered trees, battered walls, crumbling houses, deep ruts in the earth, appeared on every side to show where the battle had raged; yet already the gra.s.s, in its swift growth, had obliterated the chief marks of the tremendous conflict.

At length they arrived at Milan. The city presented a most imposing appearance. Its natural situation, its magnificent works of architecture, its stately arches and majestic avenues presented an appearance which was now heightened by the presence of victory. It was as though the entire population had given themselves up to rejoicing. The evil spirit had been cast out, and the house thoroughly swept and garnished. The streets were filled with gay mult.i.tudes; the avenues resounded with the thrilling strains of the Ma.r.s.eillaise, repeated everywhere; every window displayed the portrait of Napoleon, Victor Emanuel, or Garibaldi, and from every house-top flaunted the tri-color. The heavy weight imposed by the military rule--the iron hand, the cruelty, the bands of spies, the innumerable soldiers sent forth by Austria--had been lifted off, and in the first reaction of perfect liberty the whole population rushed into the wildest demonstrations of joy and gayety. The churches were all marked by the perpetual presence of the emblems of Holy Peace, and Heavenly Faith, and Immortal Hope. The sublime Cathedral, from all its marble population of sculptured saints and from all its thousands of pinnacles, sent up one constant song. Through the streets marched soldiers--regular, irregular, horse, foot, and dragoons; cannon thundered at intervals through every day; volunteer militia companies sprang up like b.u.t.terflies to flash their gay uniforms in the sun.

It was not the season for theatres. _La Scala_ had opened for a few nights when Napoleon and Victor Emanuel where here, but had closed again. Not so the smaller theatres. Less dignified, they could burst forth unrestrained. Especially the Day Theatres, places formed somewhat on the ancient model, with open roofs. In these the spectators can smoke. Here the performance begins at five or six and ends at dark. All the theatres on this season, day or night alike, burst forth into joy. The war was the universal subject. Cannon, fighting, soldiers, gunpowder, saltpetre, sulphur, fury, explosions, wounds, bombardments, grenadiers, artillery, drum, gun, trumpet, blunderbuss, and thunder! Just at that time the piece which was having the greatest run was THE VICTORY Of SOLFERINO!

Two theatres exhibited this piece with all the pomp and circ.u.mstance of glorious war. Another put out in a pantomime ”The Battle of Malegnano!”

Another, ”The Fight at Magenta!” But perhaps the most popular of all was ”GARIBALDI IN VARESE, _od_ I CACCIATORI DEGLI ALPI!”

CHAPTER LIV.

d.i.c.k MEETS AN OLD FRIEND.--THE EMOTIONAL NATURE OF THE ITALIAN.

--THE SENATOR OVERCOME AND DUMBFOUNDED.

The day of their arrival at Milan was distinguished by a pleasing circ.u.mstance. b.u.t.tons found the Spaniards, and was happy. And by another circ.u.mstance, scarcely less pleasing, d.i.c.k found an old acquaintance.

On this wise:

Finding himself in Milan he suddenly called to mind an old friend with whom he had been intimate in Boston. He had been exiled from Italy on account of his connection with the movements of 1848. He had fled to America, and had taken with him barely enough to live on. For five years he had lived in Boston under the plain name of _Hugh Airey_. Then d.i.c.k met with him, and had been attracted by the polished manners, melancholy air, and high spirit of the unfortunate exile. In the course of time their acquaintance ripened into intimate friends.h.i.+p. d.i.c.k introduced him to all his friends, and did all in his power to make his life pleasant. From him he had learned Italian, and under his guidance formed a wide and deep acquaintance with Italian literature. In 1858 Mr. Airey decided to return to Italy and live in Turin till the return of better days.

Before leaving he confided to d.i.c.k the fact that he belonged to one of the oldest families in Lombardy, and that he was the Count Ugo di Gonfiloniere. The exile bade d.i.c.k and all his friends good-bye and departed. Since then d.i.c.k had heard from him but once. The Count was happy, and hopeful of a speedy return of better days for his country.

His hopes had been realized, as the world knows.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Count Ugo.]

d.i.c.k had no difficulty in finding out where he lived, and went to call on him. It was a magnificent palace. Throngs of servants were around the entrance. d.i.c.k sent up his name, and was conducted by a servant to an ante-chamber. Scarcely had he finished a hasty survey of the apartment when hurried footsteps were heard. He turned.

The Count came rus.h.i.+ng into the room, flushed and trembling, and without a word threw himself into d.i.c.k's arms, embraced him, and kissed him. It was a trying moment for d.i.c.k. Nothing is so frightful to a man of the Anglo-Saxon race as to be hugged and kissed by a man.