CHAPTER XXIII

I Purchase a Handsome Carriage, and Proceed to Parma With the Old Captain and the Young Frenchwoman—­I Pay a Visit to Javotte, and Present Her With a Beautiful Pair of Gold Bracelets—­My Perplexities Respecting My Lovely Travelling Companion—­A Monologue—­Conversation with the Captain—­Tete-a-Tete with Henriette

The conversation was animated, and the young female officer was entertaining everybody, even Madame Querini, although she hardly took the trouble of concealing her spleen.

“It seems strange,” she remarked, “that you and the captain should live together without ever speaking to each other.”

“Why, madam?  We understand one another perfectly, for speech is of very little consequence in the kind of business we do together.”

That answer, given with graceful liveliness, made everybody laugh, except Madame Querini-Juliette, who, foolishly assuming the air of a prude, thought that its meaning was too clearly expressed.

“I do not know any kind of business,” she said, “that can be transacted without the assistance of the voice or the pen.”

“Excuse me, madam, there are some:  playing at cards, for instance, is a business of that sort.”

“Are you always playing?”

“We do nothing else.  We play the game of the Pharaoh (faro), and I hold the bank.”

Everybody, understanding the shrewdness of this evasive answer, laughed again, and Juliette herself could not help joining in the general merriment.

“But tell me,” said Count Spada, “does the bank receive much?”

“As for the deposits, they are of so little importance, that they are hardly worth mentioning.”

No one ventured upon translating that sentence for the benefit of the worthy captain.  The conversation continued in the same amusing style, and all the guests were delighted with the graceful wit of the charming officer.

Late in the evening I took leave of the general, and wished him a pleasant journey.

“Adieu,” he said, “I wish you a pleasant journey to Naples, and hope you will enjoy yourself there”

“Well, general, I am not going to Naples immediately; I have changed my mind and intend to proceed to Parma, where I wish to see the Infante.  I also wish to constitute myself the interpreter of these two officers who know nothing of Italian:” 

“Ah, young man! opportunity makes a thief, does it not?  Well, if I were in your place, I would do the same.”

I also bade farewell to Madame Querini, who asked me to write to her from Bologna.  I gave her a promise to do so, but without meaning to fulfil it.