“Sartello, the bandit chief, and his followers!”

The person thus indicated turned to the shrinking crowd, and lifting the mask from his face, he addressed them thus: 

“Good friends, our play is finished.  The players through me, desire to make you their most respectful bow, thanking you for your good company.  We rejoice to see that you are pleased with our endeavors for your amusement, and will hope that when next we chance to meet, we may therein be as fortunate as now.”

At the word, each of the troop made a low obeisance, and with their leader, quickly retreated from the village.  By slow degrees, the streets were cleared, though here and there a few lingered along to talk over the occurrences of the night.  It was not till near the dawn of morn that the village again became quiet, when in the early dew, a carriage drove swiftly up to the inn, the door of which the coachman, having leaped from his seat, banged with might and main.  At length old Gaspar thrust his night-capped head from an upper window.

“What means this cursed din?” he angrily exclaimed.

“Come down—­come down!” the coachman replied, in a gruff voice.  “Here is Prince Reklovstt waiting at your door.”

“Good Heaven!” exclaimed the landlord, withdrawing his head in a fluster.  “It can be no common prince, this, with such a jaw-breaking name.  Here Francesco, Rosa, wife, all of you! hurry, haste down stairs as quickly as you can!”

The household were quickly astir, the doors were unbarred, and Gaspar presented himself before the prince, who had just descended from the carriage.  The Russian lord—­for any one would have known him as such by his appearance—­possessed a long beard, thick eyebrows, and eyes, whose look was chiefly a chilly and impenetrable stare.

“He must be monstrous rich,” thought Gaspar; “he has such a bearish way with him.”

The coachman, who seemed also to serve as interpreter, now addressed the host in tolerable Italian, easy enough to be understood, though interspersed now and then with some queer sounding words.

“The prince wishes to breakfast.  Quick then! bring a turkey, a quart of brandy, a cup of fat, a good cheese pie, and a reindeer’s tongue.”

The landlord was filled with astonishment and respect.

“O, servant of a mighty lord!” he said, “our larder is to-day somewhat scant, for crowds of guests have scoured our house of all its choicest fare.  But we will give you the very best we have, if you will deign to accept it.”

The coachman seemed disturbed, but consulted the prince, who answered him with a frown and a growl of foreign words.

“Mine host!” rejoined the interpreter, “the prince doth condescend to accept.  But be sure, whatever else fails, that the brandy is good.”