The station-master was plainly very angry.

He came striding down toward me, and when he was come near he began to pour out a stream of indignant Italian; then suddenly took off his hat and made that beautiful bow and said: "Oh, it is you! I beg a thousands pardons! This idiot here---" He turned to the exulting soldier and burst out with a flood of white-hot Italian lava, and the next moment he was bowing, and the soldier and I were moving in procession again--he in the lead and ashamed, this time, I with my chin up.

And so we marched by the crowd of fascinated passengers, and I went forth to the train with the honors of war.

Tobacco and all..