who have all made some noise in the world, were quite behind him.”
“So,” continued Franz, “the hero of this history is only two-and-twenty?”
“Scarcely so much.”
“Is he tall or short?”
“Of the middle height—about the same stature as his excellency,” returned the host, pointing to Albert.
“Thanks for the comparison,” said Albert, with a bow.
“Go on, Signor Pastrini,” continued Franz, smiling at his friend’s susceptibility. “To what class of society does he belong?”
“He was a shepherd-boy attached to the farm of the Count of San-Felice, situated between Palestrina and the Lake of Gabri; he was born at Pampinara, and entered the count’s service when he was five years old; his father was also a shepherd, who owned a small flock, and lived by the wool and the milk, which he sold at Rome. When quite a child,