And now they bend their steps in the direction of the old town, and turning into a short, narrow street, ascend the high stone steps of an old house; so old one wondered it held together; in fact, many stones had fallen from the front wall, giving it a hollow-eyed appearance. The whole quartier in which they now are, presents a dilapidated front. But when they enter the old, mouldy apartment, lit up with so much of the beautiful, they forgot the gloomy, damp street; the uninviting exterior of the building; the weird old man in charge; everything but the gems by which they are surrounded. Here were some rare bits of Sevres and Dresden china, there some modern tile painting, here some old Roman jugs, jars, and vases; there the sweet face of a Madonna looks down, as if in pity, on a Greek dancing girl. Here a goblet, fit for a kingly gift; there a zone to win the good graces of some pretty little ballet dancer. Here were Romish missals in rare old inlaid coverings, side by side with garters studded with precious stones, destined for the leg of woman.
Vaura, an ardent admirer of the choice in bric-a-brac, was in her element amid this confusion of beauty, while her companion preferred the living charms of a lovely woman more than anything the world of art could show; so, not a purchaser, he seated himself on a chair with more carving than comfort to recommend it, and watching Vaura, fell into a reverie: "She is the most priceless gem in the casket, and though my governor left me as heritage the waste acres, and nothing but an income of debts to keep up Castletruan, unless I marry money, by my faith a fellow could live on love with Vaura Vernon, better than on stalled ox without her."
Here he gave a start knocking down a porcelain vase at the weird voice of Pedro from behind, saying:
"You don't examine my poor wares, mi lord.'
"The shattered remains of that vase are typical of the denouement of the idle dreams I was dreaming," he muttered, as the wily Italian, full of regrets, picked up the fragments, naming double the value of the vase, and thinking,
"He would not have spent a soldi, the Signora occupies all his thoughts; so Pedro, you are in good fortune that the English lord was startled at the sound of thy voice; the intention was good, Pedro, so is the result."
Vaura now signified to the Italian her wish to purchase bric-a-brac to the extent of a golden goblet, beautiful in design and of early Roman handiwork. A group of statutory, representing Venus and Adonis, at once piquant and charming, with an exquisite painting of the Dying Gladiator pathetic in the extreme.
"He is a grand athlete," said Sir Dennis.
"Yes, and a land-mark of Home, in the by-gone. Ah! Sir Dennis, there has been more martyr's blood shed in the immortal city than that of the early Christians; when one thinks of the use the Coliseum was put to, when one thinks of the Roman women with their warm beauty, of their men beautiful as gods, who graced with their presence scenes where men like that met a death of torture, one weeps for human nature with its stains, its blots. Ah! well, even the flowers one loves best are bespattered in the mire, and soiled by the skirts of mortals with not too clean a record, and the pure snow-flake as it falls goes down with smut from the chimney upon it, it is only the trail of the serpent which is over all."
"The wells of pity in your eyes are deep and full enough to take in more than the Dying Gladiator; he is dead; there are living men," said the Irishman with the susceptibility of his race.