ill
there were no signs of them. Upon this Buttons fell into a profound
melancholy. In fact it was a very hard case. There seemed nothing
left for him to do. How could he find them out?

[Illustration: Trozzi Palace.]

Dick noticed the disquietude of his friend, and sympathized with
him deeply. So he lent his aid and searched through the city as
industriously as possible. Yet in spite of every effort their
arduous labors were defeated. So Buttons became hopeless.

The Senator, however, had met with friends. The American Minister
at Turin happened at that time to be in Florence. Him the Senator
recollected as an old acquaintance, and also as a tried companion
in arms through many a political campaign. The Minister received
him with the most exuberant delight. Dinner, wine, feast of reason,
flow of soul, interchange of latest news, stories of recent
adventures on both sides, laughter, compliments, speculations on
future party prospects, made the hours of an entire afternoon fly
like lightning. The American Eagle was never more convivial.

The Minister would not let him go. He made him put up at his hotel.
He had the entree into the highest Florentine society. He would
introduce the Senator everywhere. The Senator would have an
opportunity of seeing Italian manners and customs such as was very
rarely enjoyed. The Senator was delighted at the idea.

But Mr. Figgs and the Doctor began to show signs of weariness. The
former walked with Dick through the Boboli gardens and confided
all his soul to his young friend. What was the use of an elderly
man like him putting himself to so much trouble? He had seen enough
of Italy. He didn't want to see any more. He would much rather be safe
at home. Besides, the members of the Club were all going down the
broad road that leadeth to ruin. Buttons was infatuated about
those Spaniards. The Doctor thought that he (Dick) was involved in
some mysterious affair of a similar nature. Lastly, the Senator was
making a plunge into society. It was too much. The ride over the
Apennines to Bologna might be interesting for two young fellows
like him and Buttons, but was unfit for an elderly person.
Moreover, he didn't care about going to the seat of war. He had
seen enough of fighting. In short, he and the Doctor had made up
their minds to go back to Paris via Leghorn and Marseilles.

Dick remonstrated, expostulated, coaxed. But Mr. Figgs was inflexible.

[Illustration: Buttons Melanchol