His gallantry to
Virginia would have been, I thought, excessive if displayed to any woman
in the world. Before we had gone a league he had hold of her hand, to
illustrate a story he was telling us of an intrigue he had had with the
Princess of Schaffhausen. "I took her Highness' hand--thus," says he,
and took my wife's. "'Madame,' I said, 'upon the honour of Aquamorta,
the affair, having gone so far, must go all lengths. Logic and love
alike demand it.'" The story was long; by the end of it, it was to be
seen that he still held Virginia's hand. Indeed, he held it more or less
until we stopped at Empoli to dine; and when we returned to the
carriage, if I may be believed, this knight of the Spur resumed
possession, and (as if it had been a plaything) nursed, flourished,
flirted, made raps with my wife's hand until we were near the end of the
day and within a few miles of the frontier of Lucca. Then at last he
released it, kissing it first--popped his head out of the window, looked
about and started, gave a prodigious Ha! cleared his throat, spat twice,
and sat down again.
He looked at me pleasantly but with penetration. "We have arrived at the
dreadful field of Altopascio, where Castruccio Castracane cut up the
Florentine legions," says he, "and now, friend, your trials begin. My
dear Signor Francis, believe me that I shall never forget the honour you
and your charming lady have done to the equipage and solitary splendour
of Aquamorta, nor the many marks of confidence and esteem you have both
shown me throughout our delightful journey.
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