“He appears desperately feverish,” said Merthyr.

“Did you not notice it?  Yes, like a man pushed by his destiny out of the path.  He is ashamed to hesitate; he cannot turn back.  Ahead of him he sees a gulf.  That army of Carlo Alberto may do something under its Pole.  Prophecy is too easy.  I say no more.  We may have Lombardy open; and if so, my poor boy’s vanity will be crowned:  he will only have the king and his army against him then.”

Discoursing in this wise, they reached the caffe where Beppo had appointed to meet his old master, and sat amid here and there a whitecoat, and many nods and whispers over such news as the privileged journals and the official gazette afforded.

Beppo’s destination was to the Duchess of Graatli’s palace.  Nearing it, he perceived Luigi endeavouring to gain a passage beside the burly form of Jacob Baumwalder Feckelwitz, who presently seized him and hurled him into the road.  As Beppo was sidling up the courtway, Jacob sprang back; Luigi made a rush; Jacob caught them both, but they wriggled out of his clutch, and Luigi, being the fearfuller, ran the farthest.  While he was out of hearing, Beppo told Jacob to keep watch upon Luigi, as the bearer of an amorous letter from a signor of quality to Aennchen, the which he himself desired to obtain sight of; “for the wench has caused me three sleepless nights,” he confessed frankly.  Jacob affected not to understand.  Luigi and Beppo now leaned against the wall on either side of him and baited him till he shook with rage.

“He is the lord of the duchess, his mistress—­what a lucky fellow!” said Luigi.  “When he’s dog at the gates no one can approach her.  When he isn’t, you can fancy what!”—­“He’s only a mechanical contrivance; he’s not a man,” said Beppo.  “He’s the principal flea-catcher of the palace,” said Luigi—­“here he is all day, and at night the devil knows where he hunts.”—­Luigi hopped in a half-circle round the exacerbated Jacob, and finally provoked an assault that gave an opening to Beppo.  They all ran in, Luigi last.  Jacob chased Beppo up the stairs, lost him, and remembered what he had said of the letter borne by Luigi, for whom he determined to lie in waiting.  “Better two in there than one,” he thought.  The two courted his Aennchen openly; but Luigi, as the bearer of an amorous letter from the signor of quality, who could be no other than signor Antonio-Pericles, was the one to be intercepted.  Like other jealous lovers, Jacob wanted to read Aennchen’s answer, to be cured of his fatal passion for the maiden, and on this he set the entire force of his mind.