“Excellency,” said he gravely, addressing Franz, “if you look upon me as a liar, it is useless for me to say anything; it was for your interest I—”
“Albert does not say you are a liar, Signor Pastrini,” said Franz, “but that he will not believe what you are going to tell us—but I will believe all you say; so proceed.”
“But if your excellency doubt my veracity—”
“Signor Pastrini,” returned Franz, “you are more susceptible than Cassandra, who was a prophetess, and yet no one believed her; while you, at least, are sure of the credence of half your audience. Come, sit down, and tell us all about this Signor Vampa.”
“I had told your excellency he is the most famous bandit we have had since the days of Mastrilla.”
“Well, what has this bandit to do with the order I have given the coachman to leave the city by the Porta del Popolo, and to reenter by the Porta San Giovanni?”
“This,” replied Signor Pastrini, “that you will go out by one, but I very much doubt your returning by the other.”
“Why?” asked Franz.
“Because, after nightfall, you are not safe fifty yards from the gates.”
“On your honor, is that true?” cried Albert.
“Count,” returned Signor Pastrini, hurt at Albert’s repeated doubts of the truth of his assertions, “I do not say this to you, but to your companion, who knows Rome, and knows, too, that these things are not to be laughed at.”