b.u.t.tons sighed. "Dolores!" said he, "I always thought _you_ were my friend. I didn"t think that you would turn against me."
"Ah, infamous one! and foolish too! Did you think that I could ever help you to cheat my poor parents? Was this the reason why you sought me? Dishonest one! I am only an innocent girl, but I can understand your villainy."
"I think you understand a great many things," said b.u.t.tons, mournfully.
"And to think that one would seek my friendship to save his money!"
b.u.t.tons turned away. "Suppose I stayed here three weeks longer, how much would you charge?" he asked the landlord.
That worthy opened his eyes. His face brightened.
"Three weeks longer? Ah--I--Well--Perhaps--"
"Stop!" cried Dolores, placing her hand over her father"s mouth--"not a word. Don"t you understand? He don"t want to stay three minutes longer. He wants to get you into a new bargain, and cheat you."
"Ah!" said the landlord, with a knowing wink. "But, my child, you are really too harsh. You must not mind her, gentlemen. She"s only a willful young girl--a spoiled child--a spoiled child."
"Her language is a little strong," said b.u.t.tons, "but I don"t mind what she says."
"You may deceive my poor, kind, simple, honest, unsuspecting father,"
said she, "but you can"t deceive me."
"Probably not."
"b.u.t.tons, hadn"t we better go?" said d.i.c.k; "squabbling here won"t benefit us."
"Well," said b.u.t.tons, slowly, and with a lingering look at Dolores.
But as Dolores saw them stoop to take their valises she sprang to the door-way.
"They"re going! They"re going!" she cried. "And they will rob us. Stop them."
"Signore," said b.u.t.tons, "here are six piastres. I leave them on the table. You will get no more. If you give me any trouble I will summon you before the police for conspiracy against a traveller. You can"t cheat me. You need not try."
So saying, he quietly placed the six piastres on the table, and advanced toward the door.
"Signore! Signore!" cried the landlord, and he put himself in his way.
At a sign from Dolores the big dragoon came also, and put himself behind her.
"You shall not go," she cried. "You shall never pa.s.s through this door till you pay."
"Who is going to stop us?" said b.u.t.tons.
"My father, and this brave soldier who is armed," said Dolores, in a voice to which she tried to give a terrific emphasis.
"Then I beg leave to say this much," said b.u.t.tons; and he looked with blazing eyes full in the face of the "brave soldier." "I am not a "brave soldier," and I am not armed; but my friend and I have paid our bills, and we are going through that door. If you dare to lay so much as the weight of your finger on me I"ll show you how a man can use his fists."
Now the Continentals have a great and a wholesome dread of the English fist, and consider the American the same flesh and blood. They believe that "le bogues" is a necessary, part of the education of the whole Anglo-Saxon race, careful parents among that people being intent upon three things for their children, to wit:
(1.) To eat _Rosbif_ and _Bifiek_, but especially the former.
(2.) To use certain profane expressions, by which the Continental can always tell the Anglo-Saxon.
(3.) TO STRIKE FROM THE SHOULDER!!!
Consequently, when b.u.t.tons, followed by d.i.c.k, advanced to the door, the landlord and the "brave soldier" slipped aside, and actually allowed them to pa.s.s.
Not so Dolores.
She tried to hound her relatives on; she stormed; she taunted them; she called them cowards; she even went so far as to run after b.u.t.tons and seize his valise. Whereupon that young gentleman patiently waited without a word till she let go her hold. He then went on his way.
Arriving at the foot of the stairway he looked back. There was the slender form of the young girl quivering with rage.
"Addio, Dolores!" in the most mournful of voices.
"Scelerato!" was the response, hissed out from the prettiest of lips.
The next morning the Dodge Club left Naples.
[Ill.u.s.tration: The Brave Soldier.]
CHAPTER XVI.
d.i.c.k RELATES A FAMILY LEGEND.
"d.i.c.k," said the Senator, as they rolled over the road, "spin a yarn to beguile the time."
d.i.c.k looked modest.
The rest added their entreaties.
"Oh, well," said d.i.c.k, "since you"re so very urgent it would be unbecoming to refuse. A story? Well, what? I will tell you about my maternal grandfather.
"My maternal grandfather, then, was once out in Hong Kong, and had saved up a little money. As the climate did not agree with him he thought he would come home; and at length an American ship touched there, on board of which he went, and he saw a man in the galley; so my grandfather stepped up to him and asked him:
""Are you the mate?"
""No. I"m the man that boils the _mate_," said the other, who was also an Irishman.
"So he had to go to the cabin, where he found the Captain and mate writing out clearance papers for the custom-house.
""Say, captain, will you cross the sea to plow the raging main?" asked my grandfather.