The coachman and his master now engaged themselves in a harsh-sounding conversation, wherein one would have judged that the vowels were far less plentiful than the consonants.  Near half an hour thus passed, when—­wondrous speed!—­a half cooked fowl was placed on the table, together with olives, grapes, and sour brown bread.  The Russian lord upon seeing this rare repast spread before him, gave vent to what sounded very like a Sclavonic invective, but nevertheless plunged his knife into the midst of the fowl, and carved and growled, and growled and eat, apparently bent on the most murderous havoc.  Meantime, his servant turned to Gaspar.

“The prince hath heard one of your village youths, by name, Gulielmo Massani, commended much for his high talent and great pictorial skill.”

“Ah!” murmured Gaspar, to himself, “heard one ever such elegant discourse?”

“The prince last evening met upon the road an old acquaintance, who told him much concerning this lad; recounted his whole history, and told how he drew wonderful resemblances of birds, and beasts, and men.”

“’Tis true,” replied Gaspar.  “Strange that I should never have thought of it before.”

“So, therefore, the prince offers to patronize the gifted youth, and send him a couple of years or more to Rome, where he will be able to make himself a perfect artist, and get fortune at such a rate that he can soon roll in gold.”

“San Dominic!” said the host; “surely Gulielmo’s luck has turned.  They say that Jean, last night, was robbed of more than half his store. and so, I do not know—­but Rosa—­”

“You’re right,” interrupted the other speaker.  “Two hundred crowns are yours, provided Rosa waits two years against Gulielmo’s safe return.”

“Ahem!” exclaimed the somewhat surprised landlord.  “How comes it that you know of this?  And yet the girl grieves sorely.  I will take you at your word.”

The courier nodded and spake to his master, who, with a pompous air, told in his open hand the glittering gold, which was seen transferred to Gaspar’s eager grasp.

“And now where is this same Gulielmo?” inquired the courier.  “Bring him hither as quickly as possible.  I doubt not, when he hears of his advancement, that he will leap for joy.”

The youth presently arrived.  The courier informed him of the matter in hand, while the prince nodded his head most graciously, and smiled so grim a smile that all the servants looked on dismayed.

“Haste,” said the courier to Gulielmo, “pack up your knapsack as quickly as may be, and bid Rosa adieu, for it is time that we were on the road for Rome.  There thou shalt undertake the painter’s art, and work for fame and bread.  And, if all works prosperously, you shall soon be able to wed the fairest maid of all the land.”

An hour passed; the carriage drew up before the inn door, the host delivered his most obsequious bow, fair Rosa bade farewell to her lover, the prince and Gulielmo entered the stately vehicle, and, with a loud crack of the coachman’s whip, the travellers set out for Rome.