It is true that the shutters showed holes which could only have been made by the passage of a bullet; but they were of old date, and could not have been made within the previous ten years.
Scarcely had my guide knocked, when the door was opened, not hesitatingly, nor in a timid manner, but widely, and a valet, or rather I should say a man appeared.
It is the livery that makes the valet, and the individual who then opened the door to us wore a velvet waistcoat, trowsers of the same material, and leather gaiters. The breeches were fastened at the waist by a parti-coloured silk sash, from the folds of which protruded the handle of a Spanish knife.
“My friend,” I said, “is it indiscreet of me, who knows nobody in Sullacaro, to ask hospitality of your mistress?”
“Certainly not, your Excellency,” he replied; “the stranger does honour to the house before which he stops.” “Maria,” he continued, turning to a servant, who was standing behind him, “will you inform Madame Savilia that a French traveller seeks hospitality?”
As he finished speaking he came down the eight rough ladder-like steps which led to the entrance door, and took the bridle of my horse.
I dismounted.
“Your Excellency need have no further concern,” he said; “all your luggage will be taken to your room.”
I profited by this gracious invitation to idleness—one of the most agreeable which can be extended to a traveller.