ignored him utterly--then said something to the
men opposite, and they all began to show their teeth in a grin.

Francis was not so easily foiled. He touched the man on the arm. The man
looked round threateningly, as if he had been struck.

"Cette place est reservee--par ce Monsieur--" said Francis with hauteur,
though still in an explanatory tone, and pointing to Aaron.

The Italian looked him, not in the eyes, but between the eyes, and
sneered full in his face. Then he looked with contempt at Aaron. And
then he said, in Italian, that there was room for such snobs in the
first class, and that they had not any right to come occupying the place
of honest men in the third.

"Gia! Gia!" barked the other passengers in the carriage.

"Loro possono andare prima classa--PRIMA CLASSA!" said the woman in the
corner, in a very high voice, as if talking to deaf people, and pointing
to Aaron's luggage, then along the train to the first class carriages.

"C'e posto la," said one of the men, shrugging his shoulders.

There was a jeering quality in the hard insolence which made Francis go
very red and Augus very white. Angus stared like a death's-head behind
his monocle, with death-blue eyes.

"Oh, never mind. Come along to the first class. I'll pay the difference.
We shall be much better all together. Get the luggage down, Francis.
It wouldn't be possible to travel with this lot, even if he gave up the
seat. There's plenty of room in our carriage--and I'll pay the extra,"
said Angus.

He knew there was one solution--and only one--Money.

But Francis bit his finger. He felt almost beside himself--and quite
powerless. For he knew the guard of the train would jeer too. It is
not so easy to interfere with honest third-class Bolognesi in Bologna
station, even if they _have_ taken another man's seat. Powerless,
his brow knitted, and looking just like Mephistopheles with his high
forehead and slightly arched nose, Mephistopheles in a rage, he hauled
down Aaron's bag and handed it to Angus. So they transferred themselves
to the first-class carriage, while the fat man and his party in the
third-class watched in jeering, triumphant silence. Solid, planted,
immovable, in static triumph.

So Aaron sat with the others amid the red plush, whilst the train
began its long slow climb of the Apennines, stinking sulphurous through
tunnels innumerable. Wonderful the steep slopes, the great chestnut
woods, and then the great distances glimps