I
opened my eyes, and saw the younger painter bending over me in the
clear morning light, so near that I seemed to see only his large black
eyes between his drooping curls.
I sprang up hastily, for it was broad day. Herr Lionardo seemed
cross--he had two angry furrows on his brow--and hastily made ready to
move on. But the other painter shook his curls away from his face and
quietly hummed an air to himself as he was bridling his steed, until
at last Lionardo burst into a sudden fit of laughter, picked up a
bottle standing on the grass, and poured the contents into a couple
of glasses. "To our happy arrival!" he exclaimed, as the two clinked
their glasses melodiously. Whereupon Lionardo tossed the empty bottle
high in the air, and it sparkled brilliantly.
At last they mounted their horses, and I marched on beside them. Just
at our feet lay a valley in measureless extent, into which our road
descended. How clear and fresh and bright and jubilant were all the
sights and sounds around! I was so cool, so happy, that I felt as if I
could have flown from the mountain out into the glorious landscape.
CHAPTER IV
Farewell, mill, and castle, and Porter! We went at such a pace that
the wind nearly blew my hat off. Right and left, villages, towns, and
vineyards flew past in a twinkling; behind me the two painters were
seated in the carriage, before me were four horses and a gorgeous
postilion, while I, seated high up on the box, bounced into the air
from time to time.
Pages:
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345