"Yes, they are ready enough for us," Beppo remarked. "Perhaps Carlo
Alberto will beat them this time. If he does, viva to him! If they beat
him, down goes another Venetian pyramid. The Countess Alessandra—"
Beppo's speech failed.
"What of your mistress?" said Merthyr.
"When she dies, my dear master, there's no one for me but the Madonna to serve."
"Why should she die, silly fellow?"
"Because she never cries."
Merthyr was on the point of saying, "Why should she cry?" His heart was too full, and he shrank from inquisitive shadows of the thing known to him.
"Sit down at this caffe with me," he said. It's fine weather for March.
The troops will camp comfortably. Those Hungarians never require tents.
Did you see much sacking of villages last year?"
"Padrone, the Imperial command is always to spare the villages."
"That's humane."
"Padrone, yes; if policy is humanity."