“The deuce!”
“Does his island produce him such a revenue?”
“It does not bring him a bajocco.”
“Then why did he purchase it?”
“For a whim.”
“He is an original, then?”
“In reality,” observed Albert, “he seemed to me somewhat eccentric; were he at Paris, and a frequenter of the theatres, I should say he was a poor devil literally mad. This morning he made two or three exits worthy of Didier or Anthony.”
At this moment a fresh visitor entered, and, according to custom, Franz gave up his seat to him.
This circumstance had, moreover, the effect of changing the conversation; an hour afterwards the two friends returned to their hotel.
Signor Pastrini had already set about procuring their disguises for the morrow; and he assured them that they would be