We, however, had no objection to an hour's rest in the village of Bechisano, where, sending away horses and driver for rest and refreshment, we got rid of our bread and cheese, and began to take a woman's portrait.
The crowd around us increased every moment, and before long I had counted seventy-five heads, all jammed close beside the carriage. But they were the most pleasant and friendly of people. Conversation became exceedingly animated, and the pretty, sensible-faced woman who, with jar and bimbo, acted as our model, became the object of much harmless chaff.
Finally, amid a great deal of laughter, an innocent-looking old crétin, with a childish face, was dragged forward as a fit and very willing subject for our pencils.
But one and all, though full of merriment, were perfectly obliging and courteous; and even the children pulled one another off the carriage, admonishing each other not to shake the artists. One boy's face struck me by its rare and peculiar beauty. It was of a deep olive, perfectly oval; and his delicately curved lips never lost their gentle gravity as he kept his large liquid brown eyes with their heavy fringes fixed upon us, leaning his head against the carriage, and answering our remarks in one or two gentle monosyllables. I never saw a greater contrast than there was between this pale, beautiful, refined boy-countenance, and the face of a poor little girl behind him. She was dirty and untidy, ugly to an extreme, and with evil passions expressed on the childish features to an unnatural degree. The slightest push caused her to scowl and retort, with a malignant anger in her fierce black eyes that was positively appalling. This small Corsican seemed more than ready to start a vendetta on her own account before long.
We were still sitting laughing and sketching in the carriage, surrounded by our numerous admirers, when I heard an astonished voice at my elbow.
"Had you not better walk on a little, and so get rid of all these people?"
And looking down, I saw Antonio's grave face, a little more serious than usual. It was clear he regretted our want of dignity, and did not admire such bonhomie in the foreign ladies under his care.
"We like the people, Antonio; they amuse us," said I apologetically, and feeling sure that by the remark I was losing caste in his eyes.
Antonio immediately retired a few steps, and sat down upon a low wall behind the carriage in silence, keeping, however, a scrutinizing watch upon us and our surrounders, and ready to pounce fiercely upon the first boy whose audacity might tempt him to scale the coachman's box.
And before long Nos. 2 and 3 had taken his advice and walked on, leaving No. 1 alone in the carriage to hold levée with the assembled multitudes.