“Frantz descended from the voiture without uttering a word, pulled down the driver from his seat, and pummelled him with true German gravity.  Then pointing to the road, helped him on his box, and reseated himself by his side.  The driver proceeded—­a little slower than before.  One wearies of all things in this world, even of beating a coachman.  The prince, reasoning with himself that, fast or slow, he must at length arrive at his journey’s end, counselled the princess his mother to compose herself to sleep; and, burying himself in one corner of the carriage, gave her the example.

“The driver occupied six hours in going from Livorno to Pontedera; just four hours more than was necessary.  Arrived at Pontedera, he invited the Prince to descend, as he was about to change the carriage.

    “‘But,’ said the Prince, ’I have given twelve piastres to your
    master on condition that the carriage should not be changed.’

    “‘Where is the paper?’

    “‘Fellow, you know I have none.’

    “‘In that case, your excellence, we will change the carriage.’

“The prince was half-disposed to break the rascal’s bones himself; but, besides that this would have compromised his dignity, he saw, from the countenances of those who stood loitering round the carriage, that it would be a very imprudent step.  He descended; they threw his baggage down upon the pavement, and after about an hour’s delay, brought out a miserable dislocated carriage and two broken-winded horses.

“Under any other circumstances the Prince would have been generous—­would have been lavish; but he had insisted upon his right, he was resolved not to be conquered.  Into this ill-conditioned vehicle he therefore doggedly entered, and as the new driver had been forewarned that there would be no buona-mano, the equipage started amidst the laughter and jeers of the mob.

“This time the horses were such wretched animals that it would have been out of conscience to expect anything more than a walk from them.  It took six more hours to go from Pontedera to Empoli.

    “Arrived at Empoli the driver stopped, and presented himself at
    the door of the carriage.

    “‘Your excellence sleeps here,’ said he to the prince.

    “‘How! are we at Florence?’

    “’No, your excellence, you are at the charming little town of
    Empoli.’

    “’I paid twelve piastres to your master to go to Florence, not
    to Empoli.  I will sleep at Florence.’

    “‘Where is the paper?’

    “‘To the devil with your paper!’

    “‘Your excellence then has no paper?’

    “‘No.’

    “‘In that case, your excellence now will sleep at Empoli!’