or I knew that so much will be found in the inns all
over Italy. The repast was soon ready, and I shewed the idiot host that
he had materials for an excellent meal. We ate like four, and afterwards
they made up an impromptu bed and we went to sleep, telling them to call
me as soon as a carriage and four drew up.

Full of ham and macaroni, slightly warmed with the Chianti and
Montepulciano, and tired with our journey, we stood more in need of
slumber than of love, and so we gave ourselves up to sleep till morning.
Then we gave a few moments to pleasure, but it was so slight an affair as
not to be worth talking about.

At one o'clock we began to feel hungry again and got up, and the host
provided us with an excellent dinner, after receiving instructions from
me. I was astonished not to see the carriage draw up, but I waited
patiently all day. Night came on and still no coach, and I began to feel
anxious; but the Corticelli persisted in laughing at everything. Next
morning I sent off an express messenger with instructions for Costa. In
the event of any violence having taken place, I was resolved to return to
Florence, of which city I could at any time make myself free by the
expenditure of two hundred crowns.

The messenger started at noon, and returned at two o'clock with the news
that my servants would shortly be with me. My coach was on its way, and
behind it a smaller carriage with two horses, in which sat an old woman
and a young man.

"That's the mother," said Corticelli; "now we shall have some fun. Let's
get something for them to eat, and be ready to hear the history of this
marvellous adventure which she will remember to her dying day."

Costa told me that the auditor had revenged my contempt of his orders by
forbidding the post authorities to furnish any horses for my carriage.
Hence the delay. But here we heard the allocution of the Signora Laura.

"I got an excellent supper ready," she began, "according to your orders;
it cost me more than ten pauls, as I shall shew you, and I hope you will
make it up to me as I'm but a poor woman. All was ready and I joyfully
expected you, but in vain; I was in despair. At last when midnight came I
sent my son to your lodging to enquire after you, but you may imagine my
'grief when I heard that nobody knew what had become of you. I passed a
sleepless night, weeping all the time, and in the morning I went and
complained to the police that you had taken off my daughter, and