age. The
brigands were savage at not getting any plunder, and swore they
would hold them prisoners till they procured a ransom, which they
fixed at three thousand piastres. This was about four in the
afternoon. They overturned the coach, kindled a fire, and waited
for the diligence. They knew the rest.

Buttons, seated next to Ida Francia, forgot his sufferings.
Meanwhile Dick and the Senator resumed their old seats on the
banquette. After a while the Senator relapsed into a fit of musing,
and Dick fell asleep.

Morning dawned and found them on the plain once more, only a few
miles from Bologna. Far ahead they saw the lofty Leaning Tower that
forms so conspicuous an object in the fine old city. Dick awaked,
and on looking at the Senator was shocked to see him very pale,
with an expression of pain. He hurriedly asked the cause.

"Why the fact is, after the excitement of fightin' and slaughterin'
and seein' to you chaps was over I found that I was covered with
wounds. One of my fingers is broken. I have three bullet wounds in
my left arm, one in my right, a stab of a dirk in my right thigh,
and a terrible bruise on my left knee. I think that some fellow
must have passed a dagger through my left foot, for there is a cut
in the leather, my shoe is full of blood and it hurts dreadful. It's
my opinion that the Dodge Club will be laid up in Bologny for a
fortnight.--Hallo!"

The Senator had heard a cry behind, and looked out. Something
startled him. Dick looked also.

The Don's carriage was in confusion. The two Senoritas were
standing up in the carriage wringing their hands. The Don was
supporting Buttons in his arms. He had fainted a second time.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

SUFFERING AND SENTIMENT AT BOLOGNA.--MOONSHINE.--BEST BALM FOR WOUNDS.

They all put up at the same hotel. Buttons was carried in senseless,
and it was long before he revived. The Senator and Dick were quite
exhausted--stiff with fatigue, stiff with wounds.

There was one thing, however, which made their present situation more
endurable. The war in Lombardy made farther progress impossible. They
could not be permitted to pass the borders into Venetia. Even if they
had been perfectly well they would have been compelled to wait there
for a time.

The city was in a ferment. The delight which the citizens felt at
their new-found freedom was mingled with a dash of anxiety about the
result of the war. For, in spite of Solferino, it was probable th