" He opened his eyes at this. "How so?" he
asked hastily. "Well," said I, "I traveled with them day and night, on
horseback, on foot, and driving at a pace that made the wind whistle
in my ears, and I lost them both at an inn, and then traveled post
alone in their coach, which went bumping on two wheels over the rocks,
and--" "Oho! oho!" the painter interrupted me, staring at me as if he
thought me mad. Then he suddenly burst into a fit of laughter. "Ah,"
he cried, "now I begin to understand. You traveled with two painters
called Guido and Lionardo?" When I assented, he sprang up and looked
me all over from head to foot. "I verily believe," he said "that
actually--Can you play the violin?" I struck the pocket of my coat so
that my fiddle gave forth a tone, and the painter went on: "There was
a Countess here lately from Germany, who made inquiries in every nook
and corner of Rome for those two painters and a young musician with a
fiddle." "A young Countess from Germany!" I cried in an ecstasy. "Was
the Porter with her?" "Ah, that I do not know," replied the painter.
"I saw her only once or twice at the house of one of her friends,
who does not live in the city. Do you know this face?" he went on,
suddenly lifting the covering from a large picture standing in a
corner. In an instant I felt as we do when in a dark room the shutters
are opened and the rising sun flashes in our eyes.
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