ck-crack! went the driver's lash. It possessed a language
all its own. It called, it warned at the turning of the corners, it
greeted friends, it hurled curses at rivals. Crack-crack! till
Merrihew's ears ached. It was all very crowded and noisy till they
reached the upper terrace of the Corso Vittorio; then the sounds became
murmurous and pleasing.

Their rooms were pleasantly situated, looking out upon the sparkling
bay. Giovanni began at once to unpack the trunks, happy enough to have
something to occupy him till after dark, when he determined to venture
forth. The dreaded _carabinieri_ had paid him not the slightest
attention; so far he was as safe as though he were in New York.

It was yet so early in the day that the two young men sallied forth in
quest of light adventure. Besides, Merrihew was very eager to find some
Roman and Florence newspapers. The American Comic Opera Company was
somewhere north. They found stationed outside the hotel a rosy-cheeked
cabby who answered to the name of Tomasso, or Tomass', as the
Neapolitans generally drop the finals. He carried a bright red lap-robe
and blanket, spoke a little English, and was very proud of the
accomplishment. He was rather disappointed, however, when Hillard
bargained with him in his own tongue. He saw at once that there would be
no imposing on the young _Americano_. The two harangued for a while, on
general principles. Twice words rose so high that Merrihew thought they
were about to come to blows. Tomass' shook his fingers under Hillard's
nose and Hillard returned the compliment. Finally Tomass' compromised on
one-lira-fifty per hour, with fifty centesimi _pourboire_. Crack-crack!
Down the hill they went, as if a thousand devils were after them.

"By George!" gasped Merrihew, clutching his seat; "the fool will break
our necks!"

"They are always like this," laughed Hillard. "Slowly, slowly!" he
called.

Tomass' grinned and cracked his whip. He did not understand the word
slowly in his own tongue or in any other; at least, not till he reached
the shops. It was business to go slowly there. A dozen times, on the Via
Roma, Merrihew yelled that they would lose a wheel. But Tomass' knew the
game. A man on foot could not have eluded collisions more skilfully.
Merrihew never saw such driving. Nor had he ever seen such shops. Coral,
coral, wherever the eye roamed. Where did they get it all and to whom
did they sell it? Necklaces, tiaras, rings, brooches, carved