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The man looked pityingly at the poor bleeding remains, and said, in a low voice: "It was madama's order, signor. The dog bit her yesterday; we shot him at daybreak." I stooped to caress the faithful animal's body, and as I stroked the silky coat my eyes were dim with tears. "How did it happen?" I asked in smothered accents. "Was your lady hurt?" The gardener shrugged his shoulders and sighed.
And with these words he left me, disappearing down the passage which led to "madama's" boudoir. Left alone, I paced up and down the drawing-room, gazing abstractedly on its costly fittings, its many luxurious knickknacks and elegancies most of which I had given to my wife during the first few months of our marriage.
"Did she come here as Signora Qualcosa?" "She came here as Bellaroba, Magnificence. No one knows of our marriage but your Grace and the Holy Virgin." "Then you are not married, but should be. That is your meaning eh?" "Ah, by Heaven, Magnificence," cried Angioletto, "we are the most married couple in the world!" "H'm," was all Borso had to say to that. "And who made her of Madama's Court?"
The upper story contained four or five guest-rooms which were rarely put to their destined use. Sometimes a fruit-grower, riding in from his plantation to confer with his agent, would pass a melancholy night in the dismal upper story; sometimes a minor native official on some trifling government quest would have his pomp and majesty awed by Madama's sepulchral hospitality.
For rum-making, mind you, is a government monopoly; and to keep a government dispensary assures respectability if not preeminence. Moreover, the saddest of precisians could find no fault with the conduct of the shop. Customers drank there in the lowest of spirits and fearsomely, as in the shadow of the dead; for Madama's ancient and vaunted lineage counteracted even the rum's behest to be merry.
One would buy anchovies, another ham, another olives, another cheese, and so on. There was one apprentice who always did the marketing for us. Then we used to clear the work-table and set out our food, and dine merrily enough. I was an apprentice at Madama's for five years, and then began to work for myself.
Blythe walked slowly up the street, keeping a watchful eye for any miracle that might drop manna upon him in his wilderness. As he passed the popular eating house of Madama Vasquez, Madama's boarders were just sitting down to freshly-baked bread, aguacates, pines and delicious coffee that sent forth odorous guarantee of its quality upon the breeze.
That day Beatrice wore the camora of wonderful crimson brocade, embroidered with the lighthouse towers of the port of Genoa, and a velvet cap studded with big pearls, "as large as are Madama's very largest gems," wrote the faithful Prosperi to Isabella d'Este, "as well as five splendid rubies."
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