was not a villager, but an artiste, a great artiste, such as might be found only in important towns. Consulting our map we found that the next big town was Mendes.
It was already night when we reached Mendes and, as we were tired out, we decided that we could not take a lesson that evening. We asked the landlady of the inn where we could find a good music master. She said that she was very surprised that we asked such a question; surely, we knew Monsieur Espinassous!
"We've come from a distance," I said.
"You must have come from a very great distance, then?"
"From Italy," replied Mattia.
Then she was no longer astonished, and she admitted that, coming from so far then, we might not have heard of M. Espinassous.
"Is this professor very busy?" I asked, fearing that such a celebrated musician might not care to give just one lesson to two little urchins like ourselves.
"Oh, yes, I should say he is busy; how couldn't he be?"
"Do you think that he would receive us to-morrow morning?"
"Sure! He receives every one, when they have money in their pockets... naturally."
We understood that, of course.
Before going to sleep, we discussed all the questions that we intended asking the celebrated pro-
