The Pole had overcome his embarra.s.sment and ate with evident enjoyment, although he feared that his new friends would divine his long fast. His companion was not hungry, for he had eaten at Cogoletto. The unfortunate young man considered this meal a G.o.dsend, for he was saving his last sou to return home. Having lost confidence in "human fraternity," he relied only on his own strength and economy.

"Am I permitted to ask where you are going?" said the lady, looking around the tables.

"As for me," said the one whom she had succoured, "I go, or rather return, to Poland. It is two years since I left it, and I return impelled by suffering and hope. Aged by my trials, I have left on the way all my illusions."

"I also return to Poland," added the Jew. "I consider it my country.

Permit me to call it thus, for I love it, and that gives me the right."

The two men pressed each other's hands like brothers, whilst the Galician seemed to be looking for something under the table, and feigned not to hear them.

"I," said the Tsigane, "believe that I will go to Hungary. I say _believe_, for it is not yet decided; it is only probable. I have relations established there. They have left the tents of their tribe for more substantial dwellings. I wish to see them once more and to salute them in our ancient language. But for me every place is the same. I am never in haste; I have money, and wander where I will. My country is any spot that suits me, for there does not exist for us a country in the sense in which you use it. We have forgotten our land since we left it, and if we should return, she would not recognize her children. We should be like Epimenides when he returned and found that no one knew him."

"Well," said the Dane to the Pole brusquely, "you have made a wonderful journey, and in the most agreeable way. Necessity is often a blessing in disguise. How often have I wished to be obliged to go on foot, but, unfortunately, there has never been any urgent reason for doing so, and I have always listened to the voice of sloth."

"You wish for everything," said the Jew; "but at the same time you lack the will to obtain the object of your desires."

"That is true. But that which I long for most is youth!" replied the Dane.

"The route is truly charming enough to make one forget hunger and heat," said the Pole. "Walking along the sh.o.r.es of the blue sea, it seemed to me that the world was finished in emeralds and opals and sapphires. It was like Paradise,--an ideal land. What a poem is the ocean!"

"The ocean is not at all poetical," said the Dane; "it only seems so in your youthful enthusiasm. To me the sea speaks only of oysters and fish."

The lady smiled at this prosaic remark, and softly quoted,--

"_O primavera! gioventu de l'anno!_ _O gioventu! primavera della vita!_"

"I intend to visit Italy, and I am going to Genoa," remarked the German laconically.

"I, also," added the Dane.

"We go anywhere," replied the Roman and the Venetian.

"As for me," declared the Muscovite, "I am obliged to wander, because I cannot return to '_la sainte Russie_' until"--

"Until the tempest explodes there," finished the Dane. "Was not that what you intended to say?" added he.

The Moscovite made an affirmative gesture.

"As for me, I shall prolong my voyage," murmured the Galician. "I wish to see Italy thoroughly."

"Then we are all bound for Genoa," resumed the lady; "this Genoa '_la superba_,' that we can already catch a glimpse of here, and which I am anxious to reach."

"Madame, do not complain of the length of the route," observed the Jew.

"The true happiness of life is in knowing where one aims to be, and then going slowly toward it. Genoa the beautiful is more beautiful at a distance than when near. The journey from here is ravishing."

"I know something of it, for I have come on foot from Ma.r.s.eilles," said the Pole.

One of the Italians launched out into enthusiastic praise of Italy "_la bella_."

"I am not surprised to find love of country even among the Esquimaux, but I cannot comprehend an Italian that does not love Italy. Where else can be found so beautiful a country? At your feet eloquent ruins of past ages, overhead a sky of unequalled beauty, and everywhere wonders, with a climate which restores life to the dying. Italy reigns queen of the world; they have plucked the diadem from her brow, but she still continues calm and majestic. Barbarians have chained her beautiful hands, but she will soon rise again and shake off her fetters. Tell me, do you know a more beautiful land?"

"I know one," replied the Pole mournfully. "A gray sky envelops it; its soil is stained with blood. The cemeteries alone speak of the past, and through these burial-grounds pa.s.s often despairing groups of chained men. It has no sapphire sea,--nothing but the cold, icy wind. But it is the altar of innumerable sacrifices,--it is my country."

The Italians nodded their heads, and the Tsigane smiled ironically.

"What matters it to a man," cried he, "whether he be here or there!

Life is short, and death will soon oblige him to return to the darkness whence he came. Let us not become attached to anything or anybody. It is not worth the trouble."

"What an error!" interrupted the lady; "it is by the heart that one lives. All else is the bitter peel of the fruit."

"In that case one must become accustomed to the peel," said the Tsigane shrugging his shoulders.

A servant came to announce to the lady's cavaliers that their carriage was ready, and he believed it his duty to add that the diligence was also waiting at the door to take the other travellers to Genoa. This interruption had the effect of a cold douche on the company, and a cloud pa.s.sed over their countenances.

"Thus," said the lady sighing, "we must separate. Destiny pushes us on again like the galley slaves who wish to stop on the way, and are relentlessly forced onward by their keepers. G.o.d alone knows if we shall ever meet again!"

"No, we cannot tell," rejoined the Dane, adjusting his lorgnette; "but we shall certainly meet again the types which we resemble. As for myself, I am convinced that I have seen you all already somewhere, and that I shall meet you again, but perhaps under a form less attractive."

This odd idea did not please the lady, who was no doubt offended at the thought of being considered an ordinary woman.

"As for me, monsieur," said she haughtily, "this is the first time in my life that ever I saw you, and I tell you that"--

"That you do not desire to see me again?"

"That is not exactly what I was going to say. However, your belief in types and not in individuals shocks me, I acknowledge. For what man has then a perfect ideal?"

"Men are but men, be certain of that, madame. I affirm more: to believe in a variety of men is dangerous; there are only certain types many times repeated. We often think to find a new man, an unknown; but we soon recognize an old acquaintance who, between you and me, does not amount to much."

"In the abstract you are right, monsieur," said she, glancing at the Russian, who smiled, and at the Galician, who appeared not to listen.

"But," added she quickly, "we will not grieve about it. _En route_ and _Au revoir!_"

"_Au revoir!_ but where?"

"At Genoa."

"At what place?"

"At Aqua Sola," said one of the Italians; "there is good music there, and there we may easily find each other."

Every one arose and saluted the lady, who held out her hand to the young Pole and wished him better health.

The rest of the company prepared to leave, wishing each other a pleasant journey. The Dane took the diligence and the Tsigane an omnibus. The Italians went on foot. The German found it economical to glide into the vehicle of the _proprietaire_, in the midst of tomatoes and fruits.

"We will go together," said the Jew to the Pole. "I do not wish to part with you. I have a carriage, and if you will not come willingly I shall employ force."

"But I have no right to trouble you."