I was sitting there one morning, watching, with half-closed eyes, the
pigeons circling overhead under a cloudless sky, and enjoying the fresh
salt breeze that came across the ruffled water from the Adriatic, when I
was accosted by one of the white-coated Austrian officers by whom Venice
was thronged in those days, and whom I presently recognised as a young
fellow named Von Rosenau, whom I had known slightly in Vienna the
previous winter. I returned his greeting cordially, for I always like
to associate as much as possible with foreigners when I am abroad,
and little did I foresee into what trouble this fair-haired,
innocent-looking youth was destined to lead me.
I asked him how he liked Venice, and he answered laughingly that he was
not there from choice. "I am in disgrace," he explained. "I am always in
disgrace, only this time it is rather worse than usual. Do you remember
my father, the general? No? Perhaps he was not in Vienna when you were
there. He is a soldier of the old school, and manages his family as they
tell me he used to manage his regiment in former years, boasting that he
never allowed a breach of discipline to pass unpunished, and never will.
Last year I exceeded my allowance, and the colonel got orders to stop
my leave; this year I borrowed from the Jews, the whole thing was found
out, and I was removed from the cavalry, and put into a Croat regiment
under orders for Venice.
Pages:
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37