Caper, 'but let us secure seats in the next stage
that starts for such game scenes--immediately!'

* * * * *

Matters were so well arranged by Rocjean, that three days after the
above conversation, the three artists, with passports properly viseed,
were waiting, toward sunset, in the Piazza Pollajuolo, for the time not
advertised, but spoken of, by the _vetturino_ Francesco as his hour for
starting for Segni.

Our trio entered from the piazza, (every house in the environs of it
being gayly decked outside with flying pennants, banners, standards,
flags, in the shape of long shirts, short shirts, sheets, and stockings,
hanging out to dry.) They entered the house, resembling a hen-house,
where the _vettura_ was reposing, and commenced a rigid examination of
the old vehicle, which looked guilty and treacherous enough to have
committed all kinds of break-downs and upsets in its day. While they
were thus engaged, the driver and an assistant mounted to the top and
made fast the baggage, covering it all with a rough reed matting, and
tying it carefully on with cords, except a large-sized basket, which
they let fall, striking Caper on one side of the head as it descended.

'_Accidente!_' yelled two voices from the top of the carriage. 'Santa
Maria! Madonna mia! it isn't any thing, merely a bread-basket!' cried
Francesco, who, delighted to find out he had not killed his passenger
and so lost a scudo, at once harnessed in three horses abreast to the
_vettura_, interspersing his performance with enough oaths and vulgarity
to have lasted a small family of economical _contadine_ for a week. One
of his team, a mare named Filomena, he seemed to be particularly down
on. She was evidently not of a sensitive disposition, or she might have
revenged sundry defamations of her character with her heels. As it was,
she only whinnied, and playfully took off the driver's cap with her
teeth, lifting a few hairs with it.

'_Signora diavola!_' said Francesco, addressing the mare, and grabbing
his cap from her teeth, 'this is an insult--an insult to ME! Recollect
that when you are going up the mountain!'

'Come, Francesco, come!' said Rocjean, 'it's time to be off.'

'_Ecco me qua_, Signore, have patience a little minute, (_piccolo
momento_,) and then, whew! but we'll fly!'

The trio were anxious to get off, for every now and then, from some
third or fourth-story window, down would come waste water thus emptied