od rooted to
the ground; but Baroni, placing only one hand on the curmudgeon's brawny
shoulder, while he still continued playing on his instrument with the
other, whirled him away like a puppet. The multitude laughed, and the
disconcerted blacksmith slunk away.

When the air was finished, Baroni took off his grand hat, and in a loud
voice addressed the assembled people, informing them that this evening,
in the largest room of the Auberge of St. Nicholas, there would be a
variety of entertainments, consisting of masterpieces of strength and
agility, dramatic recitations, dancing and singing, to conclude with the
mystery of the Crucifixion of our blessed Lord and Saviour; in which all
the actors in that memorable event, among others the blessed Virgin,
the blessed St. Mary Magdalene, the Apostles, Pontius Pilate, the High
Priest of the Jews, and many others, would appear, all to be represented
by one family.

The speaker having covered himself, the band again formed and passed
the window of Sidonia's hotel, followed by a stream of idle amateurs,
animated by the martial strain, and attracted by the pleasure of hearing
another fine performance at the next quarter of the town, where the
Baroni family might halt to announce the impending amusements of the
evening.

The moon was beginning to glitter, when Sidonia threw his cloak around
him, and asked the way to the Auberge of St. Nicholas. It was a large,
ungainly, whitewashed house, at the extremity of a suburb where the
straggling street nearly ceased, and emptied itself into what in England
would have been called a green. The many windows flared with lights, the
doorway was filled with men smoking, and looking full of importance, as
if, instead of being the usual loungers of the tavern, they were about
to perform a principal part in the exhibition; they made way with
respectful and encouraging ceremony to any one who entered to form part
of the audience, and rated with sharp words, and sometimes a ready cuff,
a mob of little boys who besieged the door, and implored every one who
entered to give them tickets to see the Crucifixion. 'It's the last
piece,' they perpetually exclaimed, 'and we may come in for five sous a
head.'

Sidonia mounted the staircase, and, being a suitor for a ticket for the
principal seats, was received with a most gracious smile by a pretty
woman, fair-faced and arch, with a piquant nose and a laughing blue
eye, who sat at the door of the room. It