CHAPTER XXVII. A CITIZEN OF NEBRASKA.
|Three months later Bernard and Mr. Cunningham were domiciled in theHotel Constance in Rome. They had taken a leisurely course from London,staying three weeks in Paris, visiting the interior of France, andspending some weeks in Switzerland and northern Italy. They had now beentwo weeks in Rome, and used the time to good advantage in visiting theart galleries and the ruins of the ancient city.
Bernard had enjoyed everything, and had managed to pick up someconversational Italian. To some extent he had acted as courier for Mr.Cunningham, who had always been accustomed to have things done for him.He found Bernard especially useful, as he had dismissed his servant atMilan. The latter was a stiff-necked Englishman, and was continuallygetting into trouble from his inability to adapt himself to foreignersand foreign ways.
"Are you ready to leave Rome, Bernard?" asked Walter Cunningham.
"Whenever you are," answered Bernard promptly. "Of course we have notseen all or even a small part of the things worth seeing, but I am tiredof sightseeing. I have thought that an independent excursion in our owncarriage, not following any prescribed course, but halting where thefancy seizes us, would be enjoyable."
"I should like nothing better," said Bernard enthusiastically. "In whatdirection do you propose to go?"
"In the general direction of Naples."
"I am told by an American, who is a guest at this hotel, that there areseveral routes."
"That is true. I have decided to go by way of Frosinone, San Germano,and Capua. The route is said to be very interesting. I wish you wouldlook up a _vetturino_ and arrange to hire him by the day. Then we shallbe able to pursue an independent course."
"I will do so, Walter. Have you any instructions as to the price?"
"No: you know from the short excursions we have made what is fair andmoderate. You may as well select a _vettura_ that is roomy and largeenough to accommodate four persons. We don't want to be cramped, forthat will interfere with our enjoyment."
"And when do you wish to start?"
"To-morrow morning, say at eleven o'clock."
"Very well. I will attend to it."
"It is a great comfort to have you with me, Bernard. You take a greatdeal of trouble off my hands."
"I am glad to hear you say that. Think how I would be situated if youhad not taken me up."
"I have been well repaid for doing so."
Bernard engaged a _vettura_, a traveling carriage, designed for fourpersons, and in an hour it made its appearance. The _vetturino_, as thedriver is called, was a lithe, slender, dark-complexioned man whoanswered to the name of Pasquale. What his last name was Bernard did notinquire, as it was sufficient to have a single name to call him by.
"How long will the signor want the _vettura?_" asked the driver.
"I do not know. We will hire it by the day."
"And where will the signor wish to go?"
"To Naples, by way of Valmontone and Frosinone. Do you know the route?"
"_Si, signor_, most assuredly."
Bernard and Mr. Cunningham seated themselves in the carriage, and theystarted. They left Rome by the Porta Maggiore, their course beingthrough the Campagna, the dreary and unwholesome tract in the immediateneighborhood of Rome. There was very little to see in the first day'sjourney except a ruined aqueduct, which detained them but a short time,and they pushed on to Valmontone, where they arranged to stop overnight. The inn was far from satisfactory, and they were not tempted toprolong their stay.
In the evening, as they sat on a bench outside the inn, a man of aboutfifty, wearing a tall white hat, with an unmistakable American look,walked up to them and removing his hat said: "Gentlemen, I'm glad to seeyou. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Amos Sanderson, and I liveabout ten miles from Omaha when I'm at home."
"I am glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Sanderson," said Cunninghampolitely. "I am Walter Cunningham, from London."
"You don't mean to say you're an Englishman," said Sanderson, insurprise. "You look like an American."
"Doubtless that is meant as a compliment," said Cunningham, smiling.
"Well, I never heard any one take offense at being taken for anAmerican."
"True. I have been in America, and I understand why it is that youAmericans are proud of your country. However, if I am not an American,my young friend here, Bernard Brooks, is an American boy."
"I am glad to meet a fellow countryman, Mr. Sanderson," remarkedBernard, smiling.
"Well, well, it does seem real good to meet an American boy," said Mr.Sanderson, his face lighting up. "Shake, Bernard, my boy!" and heextended a muscular hand, which Bernard shook cordially.
"Are you staying at this hotel, Mr. Sanderson?" asked Walter Cunningham.
"Don't call it a hotel! It doesn't deserve the name. Call it a tavern.It's a regular one horse place."
"Then I am glad we are only going to stop one night."
"I have been here a day and a half, and it's the longest day and a halfI ever passed."
"Why did you stay if you didn't like it?"
"I'll tell you why. I came here in a small _vettura_, and I had aquarrel with the _vetturino_, who tried to cheat. So I sent him off, andwas glad to get rid of him, for a man with a more villainous countenanceI never saw. I haven't been able to get another carriage, so here I am.How did you come?"
"By a _vettura_. We are making the journey in a leisurely way, going asfar or as short a distance daily as we choose."
"Where are you going?"
"To Naples."
"So am I. Is your _vettura_ a large one?"
"Large enough to hold four persons. We like plenty of room."
"Then I'll make you a proposition. Here I am alone--shipwrecked, as itwere, on land. If you will let me join your party I'll pay my share ofthe expense. In fact, I don't mind paying more, for I ain't mean, thoughI do hate to be imposed upon. Come now, what do you say?"
Walter Cunningham was rather startled by this unexpected proposal froman utter stranger. It jarred somewhat against his British exclusiveness.Still, there was something attractive in the American, rough andunpolished as he was in his manners, and Cunningham felt that he wouldamuse and interest them. As far as honesty went it would be impossibleto suspect Mr. Sanderson. Besides, he looked like a man of substance andnot like an adventurer. Walter Cunningham glanced towards Bernard, andthought he read in the boy's face a desire that the American's proposalshould be accepted.
"I hardly know what to say," he replied after a pause. "We do not ingeneral care for the companionship of others, and I can hardly be saidto have much knowledge of you--our acquaintance being of the briefest."
"About ten minutes," said Mr. Sanderson. "That's true, and I'm afraidit's cheeky in me to ask you to take me, but I feel sort of drawn to youboth, particularly to my young countryman, Bernard."
"Say no more, Mr. Sanderson. We'll take you with us as far as Capua, atany rate. There, as it is a large and well known place, you will have nodifficulty in making other arrangements."
"Thank you, squire. You're a gentleman. You'll find Amos Sanderson atrue friend, that'll stand by you through thick and thin. If we areattacked by bandits, he won't run away and leave you in the lurch."
"Bandits? Surely there is no danger of meeting any of them?"
"Well, squire, I wish there wasn't, but I don't feel certain. Only lastweek a couple of gentlemen were overhauled, and had to pay a good stiffsum to get away."
"I supposed the bandits had all been driven out of the country."
"That's where you are mistaken. There's people everywhere that find iteasier and more agreeable to make money by taking it than by earning it,and I guess Italy has her fair share of such gentry. I'll tell you alittle secret. I quarreled with my _vetturino_ on purpose. His face wasa villainous one, and I shouldn't be at all surprised if he were inleague with some of the bandits."
"I have heard of such things."
"Some of these _vetturinos_" (Mr. Sanderson was not a
ware that he shouldhave said _vetturini_) "have brothers or cousins among the bandits andplay into their hands. I guess mine was one of that kind."
"Our _vetturino_ Pasquale seems to be an honest sort of fellow. I shouldnot suspect him of leading us into a trap."
Bernard Brooks' Adventures: The Experience of a Plucky Boy Page 27