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THE WORLD AT HOME.

THE PARTY OF SIX.

and his walk up and down the room was as much like a soldier's march on parade as it was like anything. Besides, his complexion was bronzed by the sun; his chin was upheld by a stiff leather stock; and his coat, though very much worse for wear, had a standing collar, edged with tarnished gold lace. He was an old soldier past question, and as certainly very poor, or appearances sadly belied him.

At length Beppo's anxieties were relieved. The veteran pretermitted his march, and seating himself at one of the tables, called for a bouilli and a measure of brandy; and by the time this command was fulfilled, the despairings of Beppo were not a little alleviated by an influx of customers to his boiled, broiled, and roasted.

A QUEER COMPANY WHO MET AT ROME. BEPPO ANTONIO, sole proprietor of the Hotel Della Madonna, situated in one of the genteelest streets of the Eternal City, stood at the open door of his dining-room, with a comical blending of hope and grief on his pale and not very engaging countenance. It was a dull time of year for travel, and Beppo had serious doubts whether his tables were not set out to no purpose; for as yet, though his helpmate had sent up three times from below to say that the macaroni was boiled almost to a paste, and the fish fried to a cinder, not a creature had taken his seat at one of the little tables and ordered even a bowl of minestra. There was, indeed, one person within the room-a tall, elderly man, with grey hair and blue eyes, an enormous cue dangling half-way down his back, and a remarkably hungry look peering out from his face, and, indeed, characterising his person. But this man's garments were seedy-not to say shabby; and though he had been walking back-plainly but handsomely dressed in blue ward and forward, from one end of the room to the other, for more than threequarters-of-an-hour, he had as yet called for nothing; and Beppo nourished a huge suspicion that, if he should order and eat his dinner, payment was not quite so certain to follow as he could wish.

'Some broken-down militaire,' muttered Beppo, his heart almost prevailing to give the poor fellow a meal and a cup of wine, at the risk even of catching a scratched face or a curtain lecture from his better half down below. 'Some poor kicked-about vagabond, that has been standing up to be shot at the best part of his life, for three pauls a-month; and now that fighting has gone out of fashion, is left either to beg or starve, just as best suits his convenience.'

Beppo was probably right in his conjecture. The stranger's port was erect,

First came an old gentleman, tall and thin, with a slight stoop of the shoulders, a remarkably narrow head covered with stiff white hair, and small black eyes, which the frosts of some seventy winters had not yet robbed of their fire. He was

coat and pantaloons, of very fine cloth, and apparently new, and wore upon one finger of his small white hands an antique ring, set with a jewel of price. His expression was grave and sad; and before he sat down, he crossed himself with an air of the deepest devotion. He was accompanied by a lad, or rather young man, of about seventeen, remarkably handsome, with large hazel eyes, and a beautifully shaped head, covered with masses of dark curling hair, with whose tangles the fingers of beauty might love to play. His deportment towards his aged companion was full of a charming reverence, softened down by affection; and the eyes of the old man often rested upon his bright, blooming face with a look of the tenderest love, slightly tempered with sorrow. They conversed together in French, but, like the veteran

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who preceded them, gave their commands to Beppo in good Italian, strongly marked with the sharp French accent. They asked for a potage á la julienne, an omelette aux fines herbes, and a bottle of sparkling champagne, which they drank diluted with water.

The next was a younger man, of perhaps thirty or thirty-five. His complexion was very dark; his hair cut short, and black as the blackest of jet; his lips thick and prominent; his nose flat and unmeaning; his figure inclining to corpulence; and his expression vulgar, coarse, and even ferocious. His beauty was not improved, withal, by a huge pair of moustaches. He was rather foppishly dressed in a purple frock-coat, red waistcoat, and blue pantaloons, with a broad red stripe down the sides. His fingers were covered with rings; a heavy gold chain encircled his neck, descending into his left waistcoat-pocket; and his heels were adorned with a pair of exceedingly long gold or gilt spurs, that jangled against the floor and each other at every step. He demanded an olla, well seasoned with garlic, and two bottles of wine, one of port and the other of sherry.

After him came a stout, rather goodlooking man, of fifty or thereabout, with a bald head, a short, black, curling beard, a merry black eye, and a clear olive complexion. He wore a frock-coat of the latest Parisian cut, a shawl - pattern waistcoat, red slippers, and trousers of very unusual amplitude. A diamond of great value sparkled upon the hilt of a dagger, that might be seen projecting conveniently from his breast, and a large and very beautiful dog of the Newfoundland breed followed him into the dining-room, where he took his place, like a well-bred beast, under the table. This personage bowed slightly and. smiled as he entered, took his seat with an indolent goodhumoured look of supreme nonchalance, and called for a dish of boiled macaroni, a carafe of lemonade, and a finger-glass half full of rose-water, with which he refreshed and perfumed his hands before he began eating.

Then followed a man of about thirty, with a broad German face, heavy blue eyes, and red hair cropped close to his head. He was tall and stout, but awkward in figure and movement. His clothes were ill-made, but of the finest quality; and his boots were covered with mud, that had been on them long enough

to become perfectly dry; a long meerschaum pipe was in his right hand; and the moment he sat down he placed a large gold snuff-box upon the table before him, just at the side of his plate. He called for a German sausage, some boiled fish or stewed rabbit, plenty of bread, and a bottle of first-rate Geneva. His Italian was scant, and most inharmoniously qualified with a plentiful sprinkling of deep German gutturals.

Six gentlemen were now taking their dinner under the roof of the rejoicing Beppo Antonio; and although he would have been glad to administer to the appetites of three times as many, still it was very much better than having his eatables left on his hands unconsumed and unpaid for.

'One more, for good luck,' muttered Beppo, and I'll lay out a couple of crazzie in oil for the lamp of my patron St Joseph, over the way: one more, for good luck and the odd number.'

One more just at this moment entered the room, and taking his seat, called for a glass of iced-water, a bowl of pea-soup à la purée, pommes de terre au maitre d'hotel, and a large dish of beignets de pommes, or, as we should call them in English, plain apple-fritters, which, be it observed, they cook in Rome to perfection. He was a young man of fair complexion, well-dressed, but with nothing remarkable in his appearance, and was at once set down by the landlord, as well as the other guests, for an Englishman on his travels. His method of speaking Italian went far to confirm this suspicion.

During the few minutes that elapsed between the issuing of his directions and their fulfilment, the new-comer had glanced over the persons of all his companions in eating, and smiled at the chance that had brought together men of so many different nations as he supposed them to represent. The veteran he set down as a Prussian; the old man and the youth as natives of France; the man with the moustaches and red waistcoat as a Spaniard or Portuguese; him with the beard and bald head as a Maltese Jew; and the drinker of gin as a Swiss or a German. He was proceeding to speculate on their several occupations, when his reverie was cut short by the entrance of four waiters, each bringing one of the four objects, the which together made up his dinner.

The important business of eating pro

ceeded for some time in grave and respectful silence, and at length was completed. Beppo was busy, in one corner of the room, at his little desk, making out the respective accounts; and the seven strangers were meditating, probably, where they should go or what they should do next, when a ponderous carriage stopped at the door, drawn by four handsome fat horses, with coachman and footman all in the Pope's gorgeous livery. Beppo rushed like a madman from the room, to ascertain the meaning of this phenomenon, and in a few minutes returned, walking backward, and bowing at every step to the ground, before an officer of the papal court, evidently of high rank, if one might judge from the splendour of his dress and decorations. The massive gold chain round his neck, to which was suspended a large golden key, and the white wand in his hand, proclaimed him at once, to those familiar with Roman dignities, no less a personage❘ than the chamberlain of the pontifical household.

The moment he entered the room, his velvet cap was removed from his head, and advancing with three low bows to the elderly Frenchman, he placed before him a letter bearing a broad purple seal, which he drew from a magnificent box of crystal, inlaid with gold, and blazing with jewels. The stranger perused it, and then gave it into the hand of his youthful companion, who did the same. A few words in French were exchanged between them, and then the elder, addressing the papal officer, said, in Italian,

Be pleased to convey our acknowledgments to his Holiness, and say that we have visited Rome without any public object, and that our wish is to avoid observation. Nevertheless, we duly appreciate the attention of his Holiness, and will gladly avail ourselves of his kindness. We will in person express our thanks more at large for his courtesy.'

With another profound bow, the chamberlain received this brief and ceremonious communication, and only replied by say ing,

The carriage will attend your majesty's pleasure.'

He then gathered up his robes, and backed himself out of the presence, preceded by Beppo, who stared like a conjurer, and bowed lower than ever.

The eyes of all the other five strangers were now fixed on the old Frenchman

and his companion, and all were smiling except the water-drinking supposed Englishman. His face was earnest and curious, but very respectful. The silence that ensued was broken, after the lapse of a few minutes, by the bald-headed man with the beard and the red slippers, who rose from his seat, and waddling across the room, followed by his dog, planted himself in front of the old man so strangely addressed with the title of monarch, and said, with a queer twinkle of his laughing black eyes,

'By the tail of the holy camel! by the golden shoes of the prophet's mule! here is a friend of mine come to light. Inshallah! what dirt is this? You are a king, then-a king of France, I suppose; a right royal infidel! I should be glad to know, if your majesty pleases, what you have done with my little kingdom, and why you took it away from me? By the soul of my father! but this is good. Here is a man that has robbed me of my crown, and yet couldn't take care of his own!'

'Your kingdom! your crown!' repeated the fat man with the beard. 'I had a kingdom once, as well as yourself, and six dozen wives beside. Now, I have only nine. I couldn't afford to maintain them all; and the insolent people at Naples wouldn't allow me to tie them up, each in a sack, and throw them into the bay: so they all went off and got married. I am, or rather was, the Dey of Algiers, at your service.'

'My good friend,' answered the French deposed monarch, 'you shouldn't blame me. I know nothing about it: Prince Polignac managed that matter entirely. I had my hands full in taking care of my soul.'

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'Oh, well, it's no matter now. won't quarrel about it, since you are as badly off as myself, thanks be to Allah!'

Very true,' answered Charles; 'it certainly is not worth while to quarrel about it now. But I hope you are comfortable in other respects. Allow me to introduce my young grandson, Henry the Fifth.'

The Dieu-donné bowed gracefully, and the Dey, shaking him heartily by the hand, wished he might live for the next thousand years. Then drawing a chair, and seating himself between them, he turned to the royal Charles, and continued:

'Comfortable! oh yes! By the blessing of Allah, I do very well, all things

considered. I have my nine wives still, a good appetite, and some diamonds left. The eating is very fine here at Rome, and also at Naples; and I am delighted with Punch in the puppet-show.'

At this juncture the man with the moustache stepped up to the trio, and offering his hand with a grin to the exmonarch of France, grumbled out, in very bad French,

'Odd enough, royal brother of France, that here should be four sovereigns without crowns or subjects, meeting by chance at an eating-house. I was a king, too, in my day. You didn't acknowledge my right, I believe; but if it had not been for those rascally Englishmen, I should still sit on the throne of Portugal.'

'Don Miguel!' exclaimed the Tenth Charles. My dear young friend, I'm happy to make your acquaintance. This is a very unlooked-for pleasure. Dey, be friends with my royal cousin, the ex-king of Portugal.'

The Dey shook hands with the Don, who also seated himself at the other side of the table. Charles cailed for three more bottles of champagne, and Miguel produced a roll of delicate little cigars, which he affirmed were made purposely for his own use, of the very best Cuba tobacco. He offered them round to his companions; but they were all too well bred to smoke in a public dining-room: so the Don put them into his pocket again, with a sheepish look, like a man caught in a breach of good manners.

In the meantime, the remaining three parties present at this somewhat remarkable meeting, having finished their meal, were diversely occupied. The waterdrinker was evidently engrossed with what was passing before him: the casual meeting of four deposed kings was for him a most pregnant subject for study and speculation. He sipped his icedwater, and pretended to look over a memorandum-book which he had drawn from his pocket; but his ears were attentive to what took place at the other side of the room, and his eyes often wandered furtively in the same direction. The German took huge pinches of Strasburg, hummed snatches of airs from the Freischutz, and mixed glass after glass of strong gin and water and sugar. The old soldier rested his head on his hand, the elbow propped on the table, and seemed lost in thought of no very cheerful description.

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The conversation between the four grew lively and mirthful. Charles relaxed from his habitual sadness, and now and then perpetrated a joke at the expense of his lucky successor and cousin, Louis Philippe. Henry gave full way to the natural cheerfulness of his age and temperament. Don Miguel laughed like a clown at a fair; and the Mussulman told some very queer stories with a delightful gravity. The champagne was renewed, and the whole party were fast advancing to a state of excellent goodhumour with the world, themselves, and each other.

But all this seemed to affect the German very annoyingly. He grew more and more fidgety; plunged his fingers into his snuff-box every half-minute; vapoured about with his meerschaum; and put less and less water to his gin at each replenishment of his tumbler. It was evident from his wistful looks that he was dying to join the merry and royal party. At length, with a doubtful look, half foolishness and half fun, he rose from his seat, and gravely advancing to the four ex-monarchs, bluntly asked leave to make one at their sederunt. His reception was characteristic.

The elder Bourbon drew himself up with a look of hauteur; Henry started up, with a flushed cheek and an expression of countenance that intimated a disposition to kick the intruder out of the room; Miguel scowled, and poured out for himself another glass of champagne; and the Mussulman, whose perceptions were now somewhat affected by his potations, stroked his black beard, and, with a suspicious twinkle of his black eyes, gave voice to his cogitations.

'By the tail of the prophet's mule, illustrious stranger!-hem-you're a very respectable person, no doubt-hiccup;but you see, friend, such tipple as this (Allah forgive me if it's wine!) is fit only for kings-hiccup-and deys-and sultans. You understand? And although you're a very respectable person, as I said before-hiccup-and excellent company for your equals-excuse me for saying— hiccup-that you had better stick to your own drink, whatever it is-hiccup-and leave us to ourselves, you know-hiccup. Another glass, most royal of infidels, and I'll drink with you in the name of the prophet, although you did steal my crown, and drive me out of my kingdom.'

The latter branch of this sage dis

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