I was sorry for what I had said, for I had put Betty, who was incapable of a lie, to great pain.
We started at ten o’clock with three horses, and as a cool wind was blowing we had a pleasant drive, arriving at Radicofani at noon.
The landlord, who was also the postmaster, asked if I would pay three paoli which the Frenchman had expended for his horse and himself, assuring the landlord that his friend would pay.
For Betty’s sake I said I would pay; but this was not all.
“The gentleman,” added the man, “has beaten three of my postillions with his naked sword. One of them was wounded in the face, and he has followed his assailant, and will make him pay dearly for it. The reason of the assault was that they wanted to detain him till he had paid.”
“You were wrong to allow violence to be used; he does not look like a thief, and you might have taken it for granted that I should pay.”
“You are mistaken; I was not obliged to take anything of the sort for granted; I have been cheated in this sort many times before. Your dinner is ready if you want any.”
Poor Betty was in despair. She observed a distressed silence; and I tried to raise her spirits, and to make her eat a good dinner, and to taste the excellent Muscat, of which the host had provided an enormous flask.
All my efforts were in vain, so I called the vetturino to tell him that I wanted to start directly after dinner. This order acted on Betty like magic.
“You mean to go as far as Centino, I suppose,” said the man. “We had better wait there till the heat is over.”