and
uncarved; were there women enough in the world to buy these things?

"If I had a wife..." he began.

"Well?"

"I'd feel devilish sorry for her husband at this moment."

"But isn't the color great?" said Hillard. It was good to be in Naples
again.

Indeed, on a sunny afternoon, the traveler will find no other street
offering such a kaleidoscope of luxuriant colors as the Via Roma of
Naples. Behold the greens, the flowers, the cheeses, the shining fish,
the bakestuffs, the silver- and goldsmiths, the milliners, the
curio-dens! And the people! Dark-eyed beauties on foot or driving,
handsome bearded men, monks, friars, priests, an archbishop in his
splendid carriage, a duke driving tandem, nuns, and children. And
uniforms as thick as poppies in a wheat-field. Officers rode past in
their light blue capes, their gold and scarlet braids and polished
scabbards; the foot-soldiers with their flowing green cock-feathers,
policemen with their short swords, the tall and dignified _carabinieri_
(always in pairs) with their cocked hats and crimson pompons towering
above the sea of hats. It seemed to Merrihew that a rainbow had been
captured and trained accordingly.

"I never saw so many kids," he observed; "so many dirty ones," he added.
"Herod would have had his work cut out for him here. Now, where can we
get some newspapers? I must know where she is."

"Presently," said Hillard. "The Piazza dei Martin," he directed Tomass'.
Then he turned to Merrihew solemnly. "My boy, if you are to travel with
me, beware of the Tauchnitz edition."

"What's that?"

"It's good reading in paper-covers. It is easier to sit in the hotel all
day and read Tauchnitz than it is to tramp through churches and
galleries and museums."

"No Tauchnitz; I promise." And Merrihew was an inveterate novel reader.

At the book-shop in the Piazza they found the Rome and Florence papers.
Hillard went through them thoroughly, but nowhere did he see anything
relative to the doings of the American Comic Opera Company.

"Not a line, Dan."

"But there must be something in the Florence paper. They should be
playing there yet."

"Nothing; these papers are two weeks old."

Merrihew stared blankly at the sheet. "I should like to know what it
means."

"We will write to the consulate in Rome. If there has been any trouble
he will certainly notify us. I'll write to-night. Now, here's Cook's
next door. We'll ask if there is any mail for Kitty Killigrew."