"Of course."
"It seems to me that his foreign travel has become nothing but one long chase after that gal. He is certainly most uncommon devoted."
Scarce had these words been spoken when the door was flung open, and Buttons made his appearance, much agitated.
"What's the matter?" cried Dick. "The Spaniards!" "Well?" "They're off!" "Off?" "Gone!" "Where?" "Away from Venice." "When?" "I don't know." "Why?" "I don't know."
"What sent them? It looks as though they were running away from you on purpose."
"They're off, at any rate!" cried Buttons. "I went to their room. It was open. The servants were fixing it up. I asked why. They said the Spaniards had left Venice early this morning. They did not know any thing more."
"Strange!"
"Strange, of course. It's so sudden. Their plans were laid out for a week in Venice."
"Perhaps they were frightened at our adventure."
Buttons sprung to the bell and pulled it vigorously. Then he rushed to the door and flung it open. Five or six waiters came tumbling in. They had all been listening at the key-hole.