"You see, mother dear, if we once get to Staiti, we'll be under the wing of the law: you can travel with a military escort like a queen."
"But it is the journey to Staiti—"
"Never fear that, it will soon be over; anything is better than stopping here."
Horace presently pushed back his chair, and, rising from the table, said to Mrs. Cleveland, "I'm going to order Jacomo to put to the horses; the sooner we're off, the better;" and without waiting to hear his mother's objections, the youth hastily left the apartment.
"Willful, unmanageable boy!" murmured the lady to herself. "He thinks that he knows better than every one else, and I feel too much exhausted and worn out to oppose him. The charge of such an ungovernable child is too much for a poor widow like me. I should never have yielded to his entreaties, and come to this horrible, desolate place. If I once find myself again in a civilized land, once again know the comforts of a home, nothing on earth shall persuade me to go a second time upon a wild expedition such as this."
[CHAPTER III.]
BITTER WORDS.
Horace found Jacomo the driver seated outside the door of the inn, enjoying al fresco (in the open air) a large plateful of maccaroni. As Horace came towards him, the man looked a thoroughly characteristic specimen of his nation—half supporting himself on his elbow, while his head was thrown back to enable him with more convenience to drop into his mouth some six inches length of the white moist tube, to which he was helping himself with his fingers!
"Jacomo, put in the horses at once: we must make good speed to reach Staiti to-night," said Horace.
The Italian stared at the speaker with a look of surprise and dissatisfaction. "The signor forgets that the day is advanced, the way mountainous, the horses tired, the signora faint, and the roads not safe after dark," said the man; "it would be no wise act to start before morning."