"My dear fellow," said Albert, turning to Franz, "here is an admirable adventure; we will fill our carriage with pistols, blunderbusses and
double-barreled guns. Luigi Vampa comes to take us, and we take him we bring him back to Rome, arid present him to his holiness the Pope, who asks how he can repay so great a service; then we merely ask for a carriage and a pair of horses, and we see the Carnival in the carriage, and doubtless the Roman people will crown us at the Capitol,
and proclaim us, like Curtius and Horatius Codes, the preservers of the
country."
Whilst Albert proposed this scheme, Maitre Pastrini's face assumed an expression impossible to describe.
"And pray," asked Franz, "where are these pistols, blunderbusses, and other deadly weapons with which you intend filling the carriage?"
"Not out of my armory, for at Terracina I was plundered even of my hunting-knife. And you?"
"I shared the same fate at Aquapendente."
"Do you know, Maitre Pastrini," said Albert, lighting a second cigar at the first, "that this practice is very convenient for robbers, and that it seems to have been an arrangement between them."
Doubtless, Maitre Pastrini found this pleasantry compromising, for he only answered half the question, and then he spoke to Franz, as the only one likely to listen with attention.
"Your excellency knows that it is not customary to defend yourself when attacked by bandits."
"What!" cried Albert, whose courage revolted at the idea of being plundered tamely, "not make any resistance!"
"No, for it would be useless. What could you do against a dozen bandits who spring out of some pit, ruin, or aqueduct, and level their pieces at you?"
"Eh, parbleu!—they should kill me."
The innkeeper turned to Franz with an air that seemed to say, "Your friend is decidedly mad."
"My dear Albert," returned Franz, "your answer is sublime, and worthy the 'Let him die' of Corneille; only, when Horace made that answer, the safety of Rome was concerned; but, as for us, it is only to gratify a whim, and it would be ridiculous for us to risk our lives for so foolish a motive."
Albert poured himself out a glass of lacryma Christi, which he sipped at intervals, muttering some unintelligible words.
"Well, Maitre Pastrini," said Franz, "now that my companion is quieted, and you have seen how peaceful my intentions are, tell me who is this Luigi Vainpa. Is he a shepherd or a nobleman I young or
