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"Ah, signor," said Montardo, laughing, "you forget that you are an honest merchant who does not concern himself about politics." "I can never forget I am a Prussian," said the traveller; "and how could I forget it?" continued he, laughing. "My whole business consists of Prussian wares." "Truly you have some very beautiful articles," said Montardo.
Even Signor Montardo deserted his prominent position before the lamp, and was gazing anxiously at the dark forms passing slowly through the crowd. "The sbirri!" whispered he to the stranger. "The servants of the Council of Ten! Whom will they take with them?" But it seemed as if these much-feared men only desired to cause the people to remember them only, to threaten not to punish.
"Do you know why I have done it?" said Cicernachi, "yesterday the Teresiani placed before their restaurants the bull of Pope Clement XI., which has just been confirmed and renewed by Clement XIII. It was printed on white satin, and enclosed in a beautiful gilt frame, and underneath it burnt a sacred lamp." "What are the contents of this bull?" said Montardo.
A few moments later the traveller from the hotel of Signor Montardo entered the prior's room. He received a kindly welcome, and was asked to show his treasures. The stranger hesitated, and looked significantly at the two monks. "I begged to be allowed to show them to your worship alone," said he.
"I give twice that," said Cicernachi, quickly. The stranger started up hastily, blushing with annoyance. "Sir," said he, "I take from no one a higher price than I gave." "Ah, signor, signor," cried Montardo, "you have again forgotten that you are but a merchant. No merchant sells his goods for what he gave for them. Remember that." "I will make a good business with these fans," said Cicernachi.
"We are fortunately at the end of our walk," said Signor Montardo, "for there is the house of my worthy friend Cicernachi, dealer in fancy goods, and it is to him we are going. Let us press forward to see what this crowd means. I presume my friend Cicernachi has prepared another surprise for the good people of Venice."
"You will be charmed with them, Cicernachi; it will be another opportunity to annoy the Teresiani. Look at this merchant's fans." The stranger opened several fans. Cicernachi's eyes sparkled with delight at the sight of the painting. "How many have you, signor?" said he. "Twelve." "I take them all, and regret you have not more." "But Cicernachi, where has all your wisdom gone to?" cried Montardo.
His long black hair hung in wild disorder on both sides of his expressive countenance, his eyes sparkled with fire, and on his full red lip there was a proud, triumphant smile. "Well, Montardo," said he, "you come undoubtedly to congratulate me on this victory over these miserable Teresiani." "Certainly, sir." cried Montardo, laughingly, "it was a most original idea."
All breathed more freely when relieved from their much-feared presence, and soon they commenced talking again of Cicernachi's new saint. "You see," whispered Montardo to the stranger, "that our government is neutral.
"Truly," said he, "I look like a veritable shop-keeper, and he who takes me for any thing else, must be of a more political turn of mind than my host, Signor Montardo, the Prussiano." He turned and left the room to obtain the address of some merchants and a guide from his host. In spite of remonstrances Signer Montardo insisted on accompanying him.
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