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Carlino inquired roughly where Jeanne had been, so long, and she did not hesitate to tell him. She did not, however, mention Benedetto's real name. "Were you not ashamed," said he, "to be eavesdropping like that?" Without giving her time to answer, he began protesting against the new tendencies he had discovered in her.
This detail was insisted on to spare the modesty of the management. I am not aware whether the genuine article profited in any way by the rule. When the San Carlo was over, we had San Carlino or Pulcinella. There were balls to go to, when the theatres were over, at the palace, at the academy, and at our embassy. In the daytime there were shooting parties at Capo di Monte or Caserta.
A few hours later, towards ten o'clock, Jeanne was reading the Figaro to Carlino, who was buried in an easy-chair, his legs enveloped in a rug, a large cup of milk, which he was holding with both hands, resting upon his knee. Jeanne read so badly, was so heedless of commas and of full-stops, that her brother was continually interrupting her, and was growing impatient.
Carlino gathered them, hastened to his apartments, and shut himself up under lock and key. With a trembling hand he filled a golden cup, set with rubies, which had belonged to his mother, with water, and opened the magic knife, which had never left him. He cut a citron, and the first fairy came forth. Carlino scarcely glanced at her, and suffered her to take flight.
When the old king, worn out with prayers and tears, perceived that it was easier to melt a leaden weathercock on its steeple than a spoiled child in pursuit of his whim, he heaved a deep sigh and determined to let Carlino go; and giving him counsels to which he scarcely listened, several bags filled with guineas, which were rather better received than the counsels, and two trusty servants, the good king clasped his rebellious son to his heart and bade him adieu, then mounted to the top of the great tower to follow the ungrateful boy with his eyes as far as he could see.
They set forth in the direction of Notre Dame. Carlino twenty yards behind his sister and Noemi. At first a lively altercation was kept up through the deserted streets between the van and rearguard. The vanguard walked too fast, and Carlino shouted: "At ninety? at ninety?" or they laughed, and Carlino exclaimed: "What are you laughing at?
"But they were not there," said Noemi, interrupting him. "Never mind," Carlino went on. "You looked at the swans in the moonlight." "But the moon did not touch the water," retorted Noemi. "What does it matter?" replied Carlino, vexed.
One who is convinced, as I myself am convinced, that we are merely soap-bubbles which sparkle for a moment, and then return not into nothing, but into everything!" "I, convinced?" answered Carlino, in astonishment. "I am not convinced of anything. I am a doubter. It is my system; you know that.
In the midst of this bustle a beautiful wood-pigeon, with blue wings, perched on one of the kitchen windows, and cooed, in a plaintive voice, "Bouchibus, tell me, for you must know, sure, What has Carlino to do with the Moor?"
The fairy, without distrust, told the negress all that had happened to her and the prince, why she was alone in the forest, and how she was every instant expecting Carlino with a grand equipage to conduct his bride to the king of the Vermilion Towers, and to marry her there in the presence of all the court. On hearing this story, the wicked and envious negress conceived an abominable idea.
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