The Argosy — page 123: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

108 The Perplexities of Captain Fieramosca. Into all this dreaminess and decay Captain Fieramosca flashed like a meteor. He suddenly appeared on the grass-grown pavement one sunny morning, and between his golden epaulettes and his raven moustaches, startled the ‘‘ humans” almost as much as he did the pigeons. With the difference, however, that to the former he was a very welcome sight, for Venice was still in all the fever of her liberation. For the smallest festa the tricolour was slung across every calle; the canals still echoed to the sound of the Garibal- dian Hymn; the children everywhere still shouted for glee as the bersaglier! with their drooping plumes and rapid steps strode by them. Consequently, when it appeared that the young officer was in search of somebody, a dozen people came forward to help him. “Was it the Siora Elena? No, it was the Siora Maria! Ecco! here on the left.” And on his finally passing under the green door (which turned out to have nothing to do with Bluebeard after all), quite an excited little group of friendly intruders followed him and gave him contra- dictory directions from mere excess of zeal. The persons whom Captain Fieramosca sought, it appeared, were three sisters, two old maids and a widow, who lived together on the third floor of a house. As he reached the landing indicated to him, and before he had time to utter a word, the little brown maid who stood at the open door, after gaping at him wildly for one brief moment, suddenly darted back screaming, ‘‘Siora Maria! Siora Maria !” And straight upon her cry down a narrow passage rushed a stout, untidy woman, sobbing rather than crying, ‘‘ Mi fio, mi fio!” and precipitating herself into the astonished officer’s arms, bestowed upon him an embrace as loving as it was snuffy and altogether un- Savoury. Captain Fieramosca staggered back, as well he might, the lady did the same, and there ensued a rapid interchange of explanations from which it appeared that our hero had been mistaken for the widow’s son. ‘‘It was the maid’s mistake in the first instance, and then the dark passage and the uniform. But for her part she was not sorry to have kissed even ¢Ha¢t. Doubtless the Signor Capitano understood her feelings?” said the still palpitating mother. He understood them quite well, and being the softest-hearted of warriors forgave them, and the memory of the snuff becoming fainter, presently even sympathised with them. And by the time that he had entered the little dwelling-room and been introduced to two more slatternly and smiling women, had sat down and produced the package which he had brought from Signora Maria’s son, he was on as friendly terms with the trio as though he had known them for years. Nevertheless, an inquisitive person might have wondered why, EOPMIC LOO KS, (E00)