“Well, then, I want you to take me up in your fine carriage, and carry me back.”
Andrea turned pale, but said nothing.
“Yes,” said the man, thrusting his hands into his pockets, and looking impudently at the youth; “I have taken the whim into my head; do you understand, Master Benedetto?”
At this name, no doubt, the young man reflected a little, for he went towards his groom, saying:
“This man is right; I did indeed charge him with a commission, the result of which he must tell me; walk to the barrier, there take a cab, that you may not be too late.”
The surprised groom retired.
“Let me at least reach a shady spot,” said Andrea.
“Oh, as for that, I’ll take you to a splendid place,” said the man with the handkerchief; and taking the horse’s bit he led the tilbury where it was certainly impossible for anyone to witness the honor that Andrea conferred upon him.
“Don’t think I want the glory of riding in your fine carriage,” said he; “oh, no, it’s only because I am tired, and also because I have a little business to talk over with you.”
“Come, step in,” said the young man. It was a pity this scene had not occurred in daylight, for it was curious to see this rascal throwing himself heavily down on the cushion beside the young and elegant driver of the tilbury.