Signer Montardo gazed at him with a doubtful and uncertain expression, and instead of answering his question, said:
"Signor, it appears to me that you are a foreigner?"
"Yes," said the stranger, smiling, "my Italian has betrayed me. I am a foreigner, but hope that will not prevent your showing me comfortable and agreeable rooms."
"Certainly not, signor; our most elegant and sumptuous apartment is at your command," said the host, with a flattering smile. In the mean time, however, he did not move from the spot, but gazed with confused and anxious countenance first at the stranger, and then at his large trunk, which the men were just lifting from the gondola.
"Will you please show me the rooms?" cried the stranger, impatiently advancing into the hall.
The host sighed deeply, and threw a questioning glance at the head waiter, who returned it with a shrug of his shoulders.
"I will first show you into the dining-saloon," murmured the host, hastening after the stranger. "Will you please step in here, excellency?" and with humble submission he opened the large folding doors before which they stood, and conducted the stranger into the magnificent saloon which served as dining-saloon and ball-room.
"Now, excellency," continued the host, after he closed the door, and had convinced himself by a rapid glance that they were alone, "forgive my curiosity in asking you two questions before I have the honor of showing you your rooms. How long do you intend to remain here?"
"A few days, sir. Well, your second question?"
The host hesitated a moment; then looking down, he said:
"Your excellency is a German?"
"Yes, a German," said the stranger, impatiently.
"I thought so," sighed the host.
"Will you show me my rooms or not? Decide quickly, for I know there are other handsome hotels on the Canale Grande where I would be willingly received."
The host bowed with an aggrieved expression. "Signor, I will show you rooms. Will you have the kindness to follow me?"
Like one who had come to a desperate decision, he advanced and pushed open a door which led to a long passage, with rooms on each side; he passed them all hastily, and entered a small, dark, side-passage, which was little in keeping with the general elegance of the building; the walls were not covered with tapestry, as those of the large halls, but with dirty whitewash; the floor had no carpet, and the doors of the rooms were low and small.
The host opened one of them and led the stranger into a small, simply-furnished room, with a little dark closet containing a bed.
"Signor," he said, with a profound bow, "these are, unfortunately, the only two rooms I can offer you."
"They are small and mean," said the stranger, angrily.
"They are quiet and remote, and you will have the advantage of not being disturbed by the ball which the club of the Prussiani are to hold in my grand saloon to-night."
As he finished, he looked at the stranger hastily and searchingly, to see what impression his words had upon him. He was decidedly astonished and confused.
"The Prussian Club?" he said. "Are there so many Prussians here, and are they to celebrate a gay feast when it appears to me they have every reason to mourn for their king's misfortune?"
It was now the stranger who gazed searchingly at the host, and awaited his answer with impatience.
"You ask if there are many Prussians here?" said the host, pathetically.
"Yes, there are a great many in la bella Venezia, eccellenza, chi non e buon Prussiano, non e buon Veneziano. You say further, that the Prussians have no reason to celebrate a festival, but should mourn for their king's misfortunes. No, your excellency, the Prussians will never have reason to despair, for a hero like the great Frederick can never succumb. His sun is clouded for a moment, but it will burst forth again brilliant and triumphant, and blind all his enemies. The Prussians celebrate this feast to defy the Teresiani. They have their club at the hotel of the 'Golden Fleece,' and held a grand ball there yesterday in honor of their victory at Mayen. 'Tis true the king has lost two battles, the battles of Kunersdorf and Mayen, but the Prussians do not despair; for if the king has lost two battles, he will win four to make up for them, and the Austrians, French, and Russians will flee before him, as they did at Zorndorf and Rossbach. The Prussians wish to celebrate this feast to convince the Teresiani that they are not disturbed by the king's apparent misfortune, and are now celebrating the victories that their great king is still to achieve."
The stranger's face beamed with delight. "The Prussians have great confidence in their king," he said, with forced composure; "but you have not yet told me why so many Prussians are stopping here?"
The host laughed. "Signor does not occupy himself with politics?"
"No," answered the stranger, with hesitation.
"Well, otherwise you would have known that there are many Prussians in the world, and that all the world takes an interest in this war in which a single hero battles against so many powerful enemies. Yes, yes, there are Prussians in all Europe, and the great Frederick is joyfully welcomed everywhere; but nowhere more joyfully than in our beautiful Italy; and nowhere in Italy is he more welcomed than in our beautiful Venice. The nobles and the gondoliers decide for or against, and Venice is divided into two great parties: the first for the King of Prussia, the latter for the Austrian empress, Maria Theresa. But I assure you the Teresiani are mean and despicable, bought enthusiasts, and cowardly fools."
"Consequently, you do not belong to them, signor," said the stranger, smiling; "you are a good Prussiano."
"I should think so," cried the host, proudly; "I am a good patriot, and our watchword is, 'Chi non e buon Prussiano, non e buon Veneziano.'"
"If that is so," cried the stranger, gayly, as he kindly offered the host his hand, "I congratulate myself for having stopped here, and these small, mean rooms will not prevent my remaining. I also am a Prussian, and say, like yourself, what care we for the battles of Kunersdorf and Mayen? Frederick the Great will still triumph over his enemies."
"Ah, signor, you are a Prussian" cried the host, with a true Italian burst of joy. "You are heartily welcome at my hotel, and be convinced, sir, that I shall do every thing to deserve your approval. Come, sir, these rooms are too small, too mean, for a follower of Frederick; I shall have the honor of showing you two beautiful rooms on the first floor, with a view of the Canale Grande, and you shall pay no more for them. Follow me, sir, and pardon me that you were not at once worthily served. I did not know you were a Prussiano, and it would have been most dangerous and impolitic to have received a stranger who might have been a Teresiano; it might have deprived me of all the Prussian custom. Have the goodness to follow me."
He stepped forward briskly, and conducted the stranger across the passage through the grand saloon into the hall. The head waiter was standing there engaged in an excited conversation with the gondoliers who, having placed the traveller's trunk in the hall, were cursing and crying aloud for their money. While the waiter was assuring them, that it was not decided whether the stranger would remain with them or not, and perhaps they would have to carry his trunk farther, the host nodded smilingly at the head waiter and said, proudly, "His excellency is not only a German, but a Prussian."
The clouded faces of the waiters and gondoliers cleared immediately, and they gazed at the traveller with a significant smile as he mounted the splendid steps with the host.
"He is a Prussian!" cried the waiters. "Evviva il Re di Prussia!" cried the gondoliers, as they raised the trunk and carried it nimbly up the steps.
The saloon into which the host conducted his guest was certainly different from the small, unclean rooms he had shown him before. All was elegance, and with a feeling of pride he led the stranger to the balcony which offered a splendid view of the imposing and glorious Canale Grande, with its proud churches and palaces.
"And now, signor," said the host, humbly, "command me. If I can serve you in any manner, I shall do so with pleasure. Any information you desire, I am ready to give. Perhaps your excellency has--?"
"No," said the stranger, quickly, "I have no political mission, and my letter to the prior is of a very innocent nature. I am a merchant, and by chance have become possessed of several costly relics, and hope that the prior of the cloister may purchase them."
"Ah, relics," said the host, with a contemptuous shrug of his shoulders; "do you know, sir, that no one now is enthusiastic about such things?
Politics leave us no time for piety; the Pope has lost his influence, and even the Romans are good Prussiani, and care not for Frederick the Great being a heretic. The Pope blesses his enemies and celebrates their victories with brilliant masses and costly presents. The Romans are indifferent to all this, and pray for their hero-king, the Great Frederick, and in spite of the Pope desire him to triumph."
"Ah," said the traveller, with apparent sadness, "then I shall certainly not succeed with my relics, but I hope I shall do better in the city with my fans; for them I desire your advice. Will you please tell me the names of a few large commercial houses where they might buy some of my beautiful fans? But they must be good Prussiani, as you will soon see." He stepped to his trunk, unlocked it, and took from it an etui containing a number of fans.
"Look here, sir. I saw these fans in Geneva, and thinking I might perhaps do a good business with them in Italy, I bought several dozen.
Examine the charming and tasteful paintings." He opened one of the fans; it was of white satin, with quite an artistic painting of a large Prussian eagle about to devour a white lily.
The host clapped his hands with delight. "Delicious!" he cried, laughing. "The Prussian eagle devouring the French lily; this is charming prophecy, a wonderful satire. You bought these fans in Geneva; there are Prussians in Geneva also, then."
"Every lady in Geneva has such a fan, and there are no better Prussians in Berlin than in Geneva."
"I am delighted, truly delighted," cried the Italian, enthusiastically."
The time will come when all the people of Europe will be Prussians and only princes Teresiani."
"Nevertheless, the people will have to obey their princes," said the stranger, with a watchful glance; "and if they command it, will war against the great king."
"Not we, not the Italians," cried the host, violently; "our Doge would not dare to side with the Teresiani, for he knows very well that would occasion a revolution in Venice and, perhaps, endanger his own throne.
No, no, signor; our exalted government is too wise not to adopt a neutral position, while secretly they are as good Prussians as we are."
"But the Lombardians and the Sardinians?" asked the stranger, expectantly.
"They also are Prussians; even if their king is a Teresiano, as they say, his people are Prussians like ourselves."