unfolding of the tall wide windows made the house seem to stare on the
sunlight, like blind persons who but recently have recovered their
sight. The resuscitation of the hotel of Monte-Leone, as people in the
Toledo-street said, created a great sensation in that quarter. The Count
and Taddeo had been there but a short time, when Giacomo, evidently in a
very bad humor, announced Signor Pignana. Many of the Count's friends
who had heard of his return came to see him and crowded around him. They
arose to leave when the new-comer was announced; but they paused when
they saw the strange person introduced.

"_Buon giorno caro mio Pignana_,"[O] said the Count, advancing to meet
him. "You are not the last to visit me, and I am deeply touched by your
visit. He is my landlord, Signori, an excellent man. Something of an
Arab, it is true, in money matters; but as he is an old tradesman, you
see it is impossible for him to change his habits. For twenty years he
furnished the family liveries, and the result is that now he is richer
than me."

"Ah, my Lord," said Pignana, "you flatter me."

"Not at all, Signor," said Monte-Leone. "Now you can yourself have
liveries with the Pignana arms, '_Two winged shears on a field argent_,'
a regular tailor's escutcheon."

"How then," asked one of the young men, "is Signor Pignana your
landlord--is it of this hotel or of your beautiful palace?"

"Ah," said the Count, "he is not exactly my landlord yet, but he will be
if my friend and creditor, Signor Pignana, continues to lend me money at
cent. per cent. At present, however, the excellent man only owns my
Etruscan house, a very gem of a thing, which he rents to me, and for
which I am much obliged."

"It is I who am obliged," muttered Pignana.

"Ah!" said the Count, with a smile, "I believe you. That house had
nearly become historical. If the executioner of Naples, the father of a
family, and passionately fond of flowers," continued the Count to his
friends, "with whom I passed a fortnight at the Castle _Del Uovo_, had
been forced to arrange matters for me, the house in which Monte-Leone
was arrested would have become historical. Pignana could have let it out
to tourists, and could have retailed the stores for the London museums.
Instead of this piece of good fortune, which I am very glad was not
Pignana's, he possesses a good tenant, who will some day pay him
punctually, when he has himself been paid all that is due him; for you
can fancy