Come here, Carlton; come here, Murietta." Mollie came bounding by, after kissing the old general, who was all the time running his mind down the iron grooves of his railroads, to the neglect of everything else, and took the two men with her on to the balcony.
"Now, look here," she said, in something of a flurry, as she dived her hand down into her pocket, drew up a handful of sweets, looked at them a second, and then sent them through the air, "I've got a little game, and you're to help me."
"Well, Mollie, but what is it?"
"None of your business; won't you help me?"
"Certainly, I will help you. We both will help you. But you must tell us what it is, or we will not know what to do."
"Well, I will tell you what to do and how to do it. You know Jones?"
"Yes," answered Murietta.
"And you know McCreavy, the man who used to be head porter in the Oriental Hotel, in San Francisco?"
"Yes," said Carlton, "I know him very well. He's a millionaire, and a wonderfully conceited Irishman he is too, and a bit proud for one who began life as a day labourer."
"No matter about how he began his life, or how he spends it. His money is as good as any man's, and I want him to spend his money. That's all. I don't want him to carry trunks or wheel dirt on the railroad. I want him to buy, and I want them all to buy."
"To buy?"
"Yes, to buy. You see, they all want little sphinxes, and Egyptian cats, and copper crocodiles, and brazen serpents, and tear bottles, and Etruscan coins; and I know a place where they are cheap and plenty. I know where there's a whole ship load, and, bet your life, I am going to buy out the whole lot."
"But I do not know anything about this," protested Murietta, who felt that he had done enough, and, at all events, preferred to keep clear of any freak of the charming and disappointed little Californian.
"Well now, you look here." The little lady laid hold of the artist's coat, and drew him and Carlton close together. "You know the old prince — call him the prince of humbugs, if you like — who keeps the stall of old wares in the Marcellus?"
"Where your father bought a supply?"
"The very place. Well now, I'm going to buy out Old Antiquities, and if you don't like this business, you have only to go to your friends and my friends, and all mutual friends, who have plenty of money, and tell them that Miss Mollie Wopsus wants to see them. You have both promised to help me, and now will you do this much to start on?"
The men both cheerfully agreed.
"Very good, now go, and be sure and deliver my orders, and be sure that these men promise to come to me, and to come at once."
Carlton gave the young girl his word, and passed into the parlour, and began to talk with the general and his wife. Murietta lingered a time, and when he finally and firmly refused to go with her on her speculation in the old theatre, next day, she simply said, half laughing —
"Very well, then, call tomorrow, at this time, and I will tell you all about it."
He stood a moment, passed then slowly through the half open door, to join the other party, but looking back over hi» shoulder, saw the girl weeping as if her heart would break.
Then, with that impulsiveness and suddenness of action that was always getting him into trouble, he turned back, took the child of nature in his arms [undeciperable] the great white moon that large in the west, bent his head and kissed her tenderly as a brother might kiss a lonely and weeping sister, and then promising certainly to join her the next day in her little enterprise, he led her into the parlour, and there, in a little time, had her laughing at some trifling remark, and so passed on and out to do the little maiden's will.
Mr. McCreavy came, as she expected. "I have found the dearest old place yea know!" began the little Californian maiden, looking around, as if she feared some one would get at the secret she was about to reveal. "Ah, it is the dearest old place in all the world to buy antiquities. And Mr. McCreavy, knowing how learned you are, I want your opinion."
The Irish millionaire bowed in profound acknowledgement, and with an air that seemed to say, "You arc perfectly right, young woman, else how could a day labourer rise to be head porter in a hotel? and then how could an Irish head porter rise to be a millionare and the companion of Irish kings and [undecipherable]
and again she looked around as if she feared her secret might escape her, "I have found this place all by myself, I and the governor, and he has bought a great deal, and we intend to buy a great deal more tomorrow, and you see they will not last, these antiquities, they will all be gone by tomorrow night. And don't you know, Mr. McCreavy, that they have got some of the original brazen serpents that Moses set upon a pole, when he got into trouble crossing the plains? Well, they have got some of these very serpents."
The Irishman was not certain that he precisely cared to have any serpents in his house, whether brazen or what not, yet he was all the time secretly resolving in hia heart, that if the old railroad king bought any of this collection of antiquities, he too would have his share, at any cost, for no man from California should surpass the man they were accustomed to sneer at as the porter of the Oriental Hotel.
"Oh! here comes Jones; now Jones, you know, is father's bosom friend," said Mollie, and of course he, too, must be with us, but I have promised father to let no one know a word about it but Californians."
"Good, that is best, for barring a few more crosses, and a few more baskets of beads that have been blessed by the Holy Father, which I must take home for my Irish servant girls — you know how exacting the Irish servant girls are, and how much they always expect; — well, as I was saying, barring a few crosses and beads, I know of nothing I want now but a few more antiquities of the far past middle ages of the period of Moses."
"Well, now," said Mollie, in a whisper, and still looking around, as if in great fear of listeners, "this is the only place in Rome where no foreigners ever go. It is away down there among the thieves and robbers, and where they have the fevers, — and look here!"
The Irishman leaned eagerly forward.
"It is kept by a prince!"
"No!"
"But I tell you it is. It is the dingiest and the dreadfullest place in all the old Theatre of Marcellus. And I tell you it is kept by an old Italian prince who has four beautiful daughters, all countesses in their own right, and all that, so that there is no mistake about it. But here I must see Jones. You will not tell?"
"Not a word."
"And you will please not go too early in the morning. Meet us there at about twelve; for you know the governor has not yet had half his supply."
"0, never fear. I may be a little early," said the shrewd Irishman, "but still I will not take anything that your governor wants. The general is too dear to me for that."
And then the millionaire took his leave and went home determined to be the first in the field next morning and show the general and Jones too, that he really did understand antiquities and prize them too.
"And now," said the designing little Mollie to herself, "I shall proceed to doctor Mr. Jones," and so she did. And as the general dilated on what he had bought, and exhibited his collection of coins to be taken back to California and presented to the university at his death, Jones fairly groaned to think how he had frittered away his time, and that how he had really nothing at all to take back with him of the Old World and show his taste and industry to his countrymen. For the first time he began to see how very important a personage in the eyes of his fellow citizens is the antiquarian who has spent his time abroad buying and acquiring relics of the dead past.
"By Jove!" said Jones, as he drove his hat unnecessarily hard over his head that evening after bidding an early good evening to the old general and his good wife and daughter, "by Jove! Now here's a chance to buy a lot of this infernal antiquarian stuff by the wholesale, and hanged if I don't do it!"
Jones reached home early that evening, filled his pockets with all kinds of money and plenty of it, and ordered his carriage for an unusually early hour.
It was past the appointed hour when the artist came to the hotel next morning, and he found [undecipherable] with her mother in the carriage waiting in the court for his coming.
The general had grown tired of waiting, and had gone back to his study and his railroads. Perhaps he had not wanted to go in the first place.
They drove rapidly to the Theatre of Marcellus.
"The dear old prince," said Mollie, still pouting a little over the tardiness of the artist, "the dear old prince of antiquities, he will begin to think I did not intend to keep my word."
Soon they drew up before the shop.
"This is not the place," said Mollie.
"It looks like the place," said Murietta; "but it is shut up. Perhaps the old man is sick."
"No, no, no," remonstrated Mollie, "he is not sick, unless he is sick at heart and disgusted that I did not keep my promise. Come, we will drive there. We will see your palace again;" and the California girl gave the order, as only a California girl can, without asking the consent or opinion of any one, and in a moment they were turning around a corner and making their way through the crowd of peasants in the streets of the Via Montenare.
Under the low arch, up the broken steps with the long grass, up by the blue Madonna with the perpetual lamp at her feet, up the narrow stone steps, and the artist threw back his cloak, fumbled in his pocket, and then the old door groaned and opened its wide mouth and admitted the party without a word.
Mollie fell to feeding the little yellow bird that bobbed and bounded about in its wire prison, and Mrs. Wopsus looked out over the pleasant Palatine in the distance, while the artist rang the bell for a countess, that he might inquire after the health of the old prince.
A countess came to the door, saw Mollie feeding the little yellow favourite; and then she fell at the feet of the California girl, and laid hold of her very shoes, soiled and dusty as they were, and wept and laughed with delight by turns.
"Well!" said Murietta to himself, "that one is not much account to answer questions, guess I shall have to ring up another." He pulled the bell, and instantly pulled out another countess through the door. But to his amazement this one too, the moment she saw the confused and em barrassed girl, fell at her feet beside her sister, and also burst into tears.
"Well, that's incomprehensible!" said the artist. "I must have some one to explain," and he again pulled the bell.
Then another countess, and lo! she too fell at the feet of the California girl and wept and laughed with her sisters.
Murietta was getting almost as 'embarrassed as Mollie, who had stood there all this time, turning red and more red each time a countess came out and fell at her feet. He rushed back and pulled the bell with all his might.
The door opened. The fourth countess came, and came as if she was a little frightened at the loud manner in which the bell had rang. But no sooner did she see the face and figure of Mollie than she went down on her face before her and mingled her tears with those of her sisters.
The artist scratched his head. Then, not knowing what else to do, and possibly not really knowing what he did, he reached and once more pulled the bell as if he would break its heart strings.
This time there was a shuffling noise and the old prince stood in the door in his slippers, while the count stood looking over his shoulder at the scene before him. The old prince had a great roll of bank notes and Italian money of many colours in his hand.
"You did not keep your promise," cried Mollie as she saw the prince, for she was glad to have something to say to break this singular gathering of black clouds that had quite alarmed her.
"Keep my promise, lady! lady, you are my patron saint! Surely you are the Madonna in disguise!" And here the old man himself fell down on his knees, and left the Count Paolini standing all alone.
"You are an angel! I am a devil, but you are an angel!" cried the count, and then he too fell upon his knees before her.
"What in the world does it all mean? Come, old prince, get up. I want to buy your antiquities."
"Buy my worthless antiquities, lady! Thank heaven, they have all been sold these two hours, and the shop is shut. I am now indeed a prince. And I have also escaped the sin of selling to you, my dearest friend, these worthless wares, for your friends have bought them all, and at my own price."
The dark clouds about the feet of the new Madonna had gently gathered to one side, and some of them were leaning out of the window by the yellow little bird as the old man finished this speech and rose up with Count Paolini; and Mollie now stood quite alone and seemed a little embarrassed at the thought of how much good she had done to this really good old man and his grateful and beautiful daughters.
She, too, turned to feed the little bird as before, and then, suddenly unfastening the hanging cage, she turned to the prince and the count, and holding it up before her while the yellow little captive flew from wire to wire, and chirped and bowed and said pretty things to every one at once, she said, "I have nothing to love now but this little yellow bird. I will take this bird!" And then she turned to go; and as her mother and Murietta followed, the ladies crowded around and kissed her hands as she held the cage up as if to ward them off, but the count did not dare to speak, and the old prince stood in the door bowing profoundly, and all the time washing his hands as if he now would really like to wash off the stain of the acids, and forget that he had ever had to do with them.
"Murietta," said Mollie with a sigh, "I have one more favour to ask," as they drove up past the bottom of the great stairs leading to the top of the Capitoline by the little she wolf.
"And if it is in my power I will grant it. Tell me what it is."
"I want you to buy me that she wolf; for I have nothing now in the world to love but this little yellow bird." The delicate little chin of the girl quivered as she spoke and looked down at the chirping yellow creature springing from wire to wire, and Mrs. Wopsus burst into tears.
"Why, my dear Mollie, that wolf bears the weight of the New Italy on its back. Rome would part rather with the pope than that little she wolf. But here!" He called out to the driver, and, dismounting at a well known turn in the street, soon had a whole menagerie of pets sent to the carriage.
Mollie was not hard to please. She chose an enormous white winged cockatoo from Africa and a little brown poodle dog not much larger than a mouse, and the party soon drew up at the hotel.
Mollie remained very thoughtful for hours. After dinner she said to her father suddenly: "You wish me to return to school?"
"Ah, my daughter," said the general affectiqnately, "if you only would return to school for a few years!"
"Say no more about it. I am going. I am going back to school with Johnny in the morning. And you are to take me, take me and the little yellow fidgetty, the brown mouse bull dog, and the great big screaming cockatoo and all!"
"And all," cried the happy old general. "Everything you want in the world, Mollie, only go back again to school and get away from these hollow, cunning, and cold hearted fortune hunters!"
"Yes, I am going, we will go tomorrow;" and then she rose up and kissed the old general very tenderly, and then kissed her mother till both burst into tears, and then in a few moments this little April shower had blown over, and all seemed perfectly happy.
Mollie and Murietta sat out on the balcony late that night and watched the great white moon retire and settle away in the west till it touched the Mediterranean Sea.
"It is my last night in Rome, or in society at all for a long time, and I want you to stay here and talk to me, for I shall be a little lonesome." And so he remained and talked to the little lady of the Far West of all things, of anything except the one sad subject that he feared might still be eating at her heart.
At last it was time to retire, and the two stood together on the balcony and he bade the brave, warmlhearted little woman farewell, and he kissed her with a brother's kiss.
Suddenly she turned as they were passing through the door to join her parents in the parlour and said, half savagely, with her little fist lifted in the air, "Do you know what I should have done if Paolini had been a man?"
You mean if you had been a man, Mollie."
"No, I don't. I mean if Paolini had been a man; or if he had been even the tenth part of a man. Nay, had he been the hundredth part of the man that I am myself; do you know what I would have done?"
"I do not know, Mollie."
"I would have murdered him!" She fairly hissed the words through her teeth. "I would ave shot him through the heart today!"
Start reading Chapter 40 ofThe One Fair Lady