FOUR

He smiled. "No such thing, ma'am. We cannot tell but what if my room should properly be yours? My friend and I..." he made a sight gesture as though to indicate someone in the group behind him "... have acquaintance in the neighborhood, and may readily command a lodging at Hungertown Lodge. I - rather I should say we - are happy to be of service".

There was nothing to do but thank him, and accept his offer. He vowed again, and withdrew to rejoin his friends. The landlord, relieved to have been rescued from a difficult situation, led the way out of the coffee room, and delivered his new guests into the care of a chamber maid. In a very little time they found themselves in possession of two respectable apartments on the first floor, and had nothing further to do than to await the arrival of their lugages. 

It was one of Miss Elizabeth's first concern to discover the name of her unknown benefactor, but by the time she had seen her baggage bestowed, and arranged for a truckle bed to be set up in the room for her maid, he had left the inn. The landlord did not know him, he had arrived only a few minutes before themselves, he was not a regular traveler upon that road. 

Elizabeth was disappointed, but had to be satisfied. There was no finding out in the crowd flocking to Florence who one individual might be. She found herself pleased with him. He had a well-bred air, the delicacy with which he had managed the whole business, his withdrawing just when he ought, all impressed her in his favor. She would not be sorry to make his better acquaintance. 

Patrick agreed to his being a civil fellow, owned himself much beholden to him, would be glad to meet him again, thought it odd that they must run across each other in the town, but was now immediately concerned with the means of getting to the scene of the fight the next day. It was to be at Coverciano Gap, some eight or more miles to the south west of Florence. A conveyance must be found, he would not go in his chais, that was unthinkable. A curricle must be hired, or a gig, and before he could sit down to have his dinner. He must be off to see whether he could come by one. 

It was four o'clock, and Miss. Tellaro had not been used to fashionable hours. She would dine at once, and in her room. Sir. Patrick patted her shoulder, and said she would be more comfortable in her own room. 

Elizabeth curled her lip at him. "Well, you like to think so, my dear". 

"You couldn't dine in the coffee room", he assured her. "It may do very well for me, but for you it won't answer". 

"Go and find your curricle", said Elizabeth, between amusement and exasperation. 

He needed no further encouragement, he was gone in a flash, nor did he return until after five o'clock. He came in then, highly elated, full of his good fortune. There was no coming by a curricle - no gentleman's carriage to be had at all, but he had heard of a gig owned by some farmer, a shabby affair, there is not an inch of paint on it, but it would serve. He had been off immediately to drive the bargain. The long and short of it was he had driven the gig back, and was ready now to do all that a brother should for his sister's entertainment in taking her out to see ruins, or whatever else she chose. Dinner? Oh, he had eaten a tight little beefsteak in the coffee room, and was entirely at her disposal. 

Miss. Tellaro could not but feel that with the town seetting with sporting company, it was hardly the moment for an expedition, but she was heartily sick of her own room, and agreed to the scheme. 

The gig was found upon inspection to be not quite so bad as Patrick had described, but still, a shabby affair. Miss Tellaro grimaced at it. "My dear Parte, I had rather walk!" 

"Walk? Oh, lord, I have had enough of that, I can tell you! I must have tramped a good mile already. Don't be so nice, Liz! It ain't what I'd choose, but no one knows us here". 

"You had better let me drive", she remarked. 

But that, of course, would not do. If she thought she could drive better than he, she much mistook the matter. The brute was hard mouthed, not a sweet goer by any means, no case for a lady. 

They went down the main street at a sober pace, but once clear of the town, Sir Patrick let his hands drop, and they jolted away at a great rate, but even in the best style, bumping over every inequality in the road, and lurching round the corners. 

"Parte, this is unsupportable", Elizabeth said at last. "Every tooth rattles in my head! You will run into something. Do, I beg of you, remember that you are to take me to see the Roman castle! I am persuaded you are on the wrong road". 

"Oh, I had forgotten about that cursed castle!" he said ruefully. "I was meaning to see which road I must take tomorrow - to Coverciano Gap, you know. Very well, very well, I'll turn, and go back!" He reined in the horse as he spoke, and began at once to turn, quite neglecting the narrowness of the road at this point, and the close proximity of the a particular sharp bend in it. 

"Good God, what will you do next?" exclaimed Elizabeth. "If anything were to come round the corner! I wish you would give me the reins!" 

She spoke too late. He had the gig all across the road, and seemed in danger of running unto the ditch if his attention were distracted. She heard the sound of horses traveling fast and made a snatch at the reins.