"Why did you want me to take the carriage by the hour?" asked Rollo.
"Because it is very probable," said Mr. George, "that we shall not get in at the Hotel d"Amerique, and in that case we shall have to go to other hotels, and unless we take him by the hour, he would charge a course for every hotel that we go to, and the charge even for _two_ courses, is more than for an hour."
The event showed that Mr. George was right in his calculations. The Hotel d"Amerique was full. The waiter, who came out, as soon as he saw the carriage stop at the door, told Mr. George this in French.
"Then please tell our coachman," said Mr. George, "to drive us to any other princ.i.p.al hotel that is near here, and if that is full, to another; and so on, until he finds a good place where they can take us in."
Mr. George said this, of course, in French. The waiter delivered the message to the coachman in Italian.
"Yes," said the coachman, to himself, "that I"ll do. But I shall take good care that you don"t find any place where you can get in this two hours, if I can help it."
The reason why the coachman did not wish that his travellers should find a hotel soon was, of course, because he wished to earn as much money as possible by driving them about.
He immediately began to think what hotels would be most likely to be full, and drove first to those. The first of all was a hotel, situated quite near one of the gates of the city, the one where the princ.i.p.al entrance is for all travellers coming from the north. It is called the "Gate of the People,"--or in Italian, _Porto del Popolo_. The gate opens into a large triangular s.p.a.ce, which is called the _Piazza del Popolo_.
_Piazza_,[3] in Italian, means a public square.
[Footnote 3: p.r.o.nounced _Piatza_.]
This Piazza del Popolo is one of the most celebrated places in Rome.
There are three streets that radiate from it directly through the heart of the town. Between the centre and the two side streets, at the corners where they come out upon the square, are two churches exactly alike.
They are called sometimes the _twin churches_, on this account.
The Piazza del Popolo is a great place for public parades. On one side is a high ascent, with a broad expanse of gardens upon the top, and zigzag roads, handsomely walled up, and ornamented with statues and fountains, and with marble seats placed here and there for foot pa.s.sengers to rest themselves upon, when ascending.
Every year, at the end of what they call Holy Week, they have a great celebration of fireworks from the side of this hill and from the terrace above; and then all the people a.s.semble in the Piazza below to witness them.
But I must go back to Mr. George and Rollo. The coachman stopped at a large hotel, fronting upon this square. On inquiring at the bureau, (on the continent of Europe they call an office a bureau) Mr. George found that all the rooms were occupied except one large apartment, of four rooms. This was, of course, more than Mr. George wanted.
At the next hotel where the coachman stopped, there were no rooms at all vacant, and at the next only one small room, with a single narrow bed in it.
"If we can"t find any other," said Rollo, "we will come back and take this, and I will sleep on the floor."
"O, no!" said Mr. George.
"Why, uncle George!" said Rollo, "I can make it very comfortable on the floor, by rolling up two coats or cloaks into two long rolls, and wedging them in under me, one on one side of me and the other on the other, and then putting a carpet bag under my head for a pillow. It feels just as if you were in a good bed."
Mr. George smiled, and got into the carriage again, and the coachman drove on.
After a while, he stopped at the door of a hotel which stood in rather a retired place among narrow streets, though there was an open s.p.a.ce in front of it. Mr. George inquired for rooms here, and the waiter said that they had one left.
"Are there two beds in it?" asked Mr. George.
"No, sir," said the waiter, "but we can put two beds in. Would you like to go and see it, sir?"
"No," said Mr. George, "I will take it without going to see it. It is the best that we can do."
So the porter of the hotel took off the baggage, while Mr. George paid the coachman for an hour and a half of time. Mr. George and Rollo then followed the porter to their room. In order to reach it, they had to ascend several stories, up ma.s.sive staircases of stone, and then to go out to the extreme end of a long corridor. The room, when they came to it, proved to be quite small, and there was but one bed in it. There was, however, room for another; and the waiter, who had followed them up, said that he would cause another one to be put in without any delay.
CHAPTER IV.
A RAMBLE.
"And now, uncle George," said Rollo, "we"ll get ready, and then the first thing that we will do, will be to go down into the dining room and get some breakfast."
"Why, we have had our breakfast already," said Mr. George. "We had it at two o"clock this morning, on the Pontine Marshes."
"O, no," said Rollo, "that was our supper for last night."
"Very well," said Mr. George, "we will have some breakfast. You may go down and order it as soon as you are ready. I will come down by the time that it is on the table."
"What shall I order?" asked Rollo.
"Whatever you please," said Mr. George.
Accordingly Rollo, as soon as he was ready, went down stairs, and looking about in the entrance hall, he saw a door with the words TABLE D"HoTE, in gilt letters, over it.
"Ah," said he to himself, "this is the place."
He opened the door, and found himself in a long, narrow room, which seemed, however, more like a pa.s.sage way than like a room. There was a sort of rack on one side of it for hats and coats. There were several pictures in this room, with prices marked upon them, as if they were for sale, and also a number of very pretty specimens of marble, and inlaid paper weights, and models of columns, temples, and ruins of various kinds, and other such curiosities as are kept every where in Rome to sell to visitors. Rollo looked at all these things as he pa.s.sed through the room, considering, as he examined them, whether his uncle George would probably wish to buy any of them.
One of them was a model of a column, with a spiral line of sculptures extending from the base to the summit. These sculptures represented figures of men and horses, sometimes in battle, sometimes crossing bridges, and sometimes in grand processions entering a town.
"This must be a model of some old column in Rome, I suppose," said Rollo to himself. "Perhaps I shall find it some time or other, when I am rambling about the streets. But now I must go and see about breakfast."
So saying, Rollo pa.s.sed on to the end of the pa.s.sage way, where there was a door with curtains hanging before it. He pushed these curtains aside, opened the door, and went in. He found himself ushered into a dining room, with a long table extending up and down the centre of it.
There was a row of ma.s.sive columns on each side of the table, which supported the vaultings of the ceiling above. In different parts of this table there were small parties of gentlemen and ladies, engaged in taking late breakfasts.
Rollo walked down on one side of the table. There was on that side a party consisting of a lady and gentleman with two children, a girl and a boy,--all dressed in such a manner as to give them a foreign air. The gentleman was speaking to the waiter in French when Rollo pa.s.sed by the party. The boy was sitting next to one of the great pillars. These pillars were so near the table that each one of them took the place of a seat.
Rollo walked on and took his seat next beyond the pillar. Of course the pillar was between him and the boy.
In a few minutes a waiter came to ask what Rollo would have for breakfast. He asked in French. Rollo gave an order for breakfast for two. He said that his uncle would be down in a few minutes.
"Very well, sir," said the waiter.
As soon as the waiter had gone, Rollo looked round the other way, and he saw that the other boy was peeping at him from behind the pillar. The boy laughed when he caught Rollo"s eye, and Rollo laughed too. The boy seemed to be about nine years old.
A moment afterwards the boy began to peep at Rollo from behind the pillar on the back side, and then again on the front side, thus playing a sort of bo-peep. In this way, in a few minutes the two boys began to feel quite acquainted with each other, without, however, having spoken a word. They would, perhaps, have continued this game longer, but just at this moment the breakfast for the party came in, and the boy set himself at work eating a warm roll, b.u.t.tered, and drinking his coffee.
"Can you speak French?" asked Rollo,--of course speaking French himself in asking the question.
"Yes," said the boy, "but not very well."
"Then," said Rollo to himself, "he cannot be a French boy. Perhaps he is an Italian boy."