"What then is your own solution to the problem ?"
"No man of sense can deny that sweeping reforms are necessary if the country is to be made healthy again. But 'tis an ill thing to let a starving man gorge himself with red meat. His hunger should be appeased gradually, and so with the nation. To my mind there should be neither one Chamber nor three, but two, as they have in England. Then, however drastic the measures proposed in the Lower, they will have their dangerous edges taken off and be rendered practical by the Upper, before they actually become law."
It was by no means the first time that Roger had heard this solution propounded, as nearly all the leading French political reformers expressed a great admiration for the English system; and a very high proportion of the French middle classes were entirely with Monsieur Golard in being anxious for sweeping reforms, but at the same time desirous that they should be carried out in carefully considered stages so as not to unbalance the economy of the nation.
As the shipowner ceased speaking a big black-bearded man came into the cafe and he proved to be the Captain of the barque. It then transpired that Roger's meeting with Monsieur Golard had been particularly fortunate, as he was the barque's owner. In consequence a fair bargain for the transport of Isabella's party and her coach and horses to Leghorn was soon struck, and Roger returned to his hotel to report to his fiancée.
During the days they had to wait until the ship was ready to sail they explored the city and enjoyed many pleasant excursions. Isabella, who had come from Spain via Bordeaux, declared that its buildings, theatres and harbour were all much superior to those of Marseilles, but that the country round about offered more distraction.
They were now in the true south, a land of olives, vines, tamarisk, mimosa and flattish-roofed, lemon-washed houses. Isabella seemed to blossom in it, and as they drove along the dusty roads beside the blue Mediterranean Roger never tired of looking at her. Yet, during the hot, sultry nights there were times when he could not help regretting that he had not taken her at her word and been married to her by the first Protestant pastor he could run to earth. She, too, he could tell, was feeling the strain of their unsatisfied passion, and as they spent every waking hour in one another's company there was at present no prospect of that strain lessening.
He had begun to speculate feverishly on how long it would take for them to get to Florence and from there back to England, although he knew that such calculations could only be of the vaguest as so much would depend on the sailings of ships, wind and weather. So, when the
27th arrived, he was much relieved by the thought that they would soon be on their way again.
Quetzal had spent most of his time in Marseilles exploring the city with Hernando, and had thoroughly enjoyed himself; but the memories of the length, discomfort and squalor of his Atlantic crossing three years earlier now made him most averse to going aboard a ship. However, Isabella gently overcame his fears and they slept aboard the barque that night; then early on the morning of the 28th she stood out from the harbour towards the famous prison island of Chateau d'If. Their passage proved uneventful; the sea was kind and the winds fairly favourable, so they dropped anchor under the picturesque Fortezza Vecchia, in the harbour of Leghorn, on the afternoon of the 30th.
Neither Roger nor Isabella had ever before visited Italy, and on landing they were immediately struck by the strong contrast made by both the buildings and the people with those of the port from which they had sailed. Marseilles boasted few ancient monuments or examples of fine architecture, having grown up higgledy-piggledy; whereas Leghorn owed its expansion into a city very largely to the wealth and admirable taste of the Medici, so many of its mansions and churches possessed the serene elegance of the great Florentine builders. And, where the great majority of the inhabitants of the French port had been slatternly, ill-clad and depressed-looking, those of the Tuscan were far cleaner, better clothed and going about their business with an air of cheerful contentment. -
Roger took rooms for the party at a hostelry near the cathedral, the. fine facade of which had been designed by Inigo Jones, while he was studying architecture in Italy before using his genius to incorporate many elegancies of the Florentine style into the innumerable buildings with which he later beautified England. As the lovers were anxious to see something of the city, but could not linger more than a night there, they left Maria and Pedro to unpack, and hired a carozza with a French-speaking cicerone to take them and Quetzal for a drive.
The old town was pentagonal in shape, being entirely surrounded by broad canals, and set in a fertile tract of land that rose gradually to a range of hills dotted with white villas and farmhouses. In the gentle light of the summer evening it provided a scene of peace and prosperity; again in strong contrast to the barren poverty-ridden country outside Marseilles.
Roger remarked that many of the people they passed had a more oriental type of countenance than he had expected to find in Italians, and their guide told them the reason for this. In the sixteenth century Ferdinand de Medici had invited men of all nations to settle and trade in the city, and in addition to immigrants from all parts of Europe considerable numbers of Moorish, Hebrew, Turkish, Armenian and
Persian families had established themselves there. Moreover, as for just on a century Leghorn had been a Free City, with its neutrality guaranteed by the leading European powers, these little minorities had never been oppressed but encouraged to intermarry. He also told them with pride that all citizens of Leghorn enjoyed complete religious toleration; then took them to see the two-hundred-year-old Jewish synagogue and the big Protestant cemetery, in which Tobias Smollett had been buried eighteen years earlier.
That night, while still breathing the perfume from Isabella's last warm embrace, and with the knowledge that an English church and clergyman were within a stone's throw of his bedroom, Roger was sorely tempted to take advantage of her willingness for them to get married immediately. But it was that day only a fortnight since the Senora Poeblar's death, and with the memory of the old lady's plea that Isabella should be given time for the possible cooling of her ardour he determined to restrain his impatience.
Nevertheless, he was up by dawn next morning and, soon after, down at the docks making enquiries about a ship to England. A British vessel was sailing in three days' time, but he knew that it would be impossible for him to get to Florence, execute his mission and return in less than five days at the least. No other ship was sailing direct till the middle of the month, but a Genoese merchantman was leaving for India on the 7th, and would be calling at Gibraltar, from which it would be easy to pick up another ship en route for London; so he booked passages in her and hurried back to tell Isabella.
When he had done so he added: "Loath as I should be to leave you even for an hour, do you not think it would be wisest if I proceeded to Florence on my own ?"
"Why so ?" she cried, her big eyes opening wide with sudden alarm.
"On account of your aunt, the Contessa Frescobaldi," he replied. "You will recall, my love, that the day of bur betrothal you spoke of her, and said that should she learn of your presence in Florence"
"Why should she learn of it?" Isabella interrupted. "We disposed of that possibility by agreeing that I should change my name; and I can trust my servants not to give away that I have done so."
"All the same," Roger argued, "the very thought that you might be torn from me fills my heart with such sick dread that I am opposed to taking the smallest risk of it."