Author Description

The train stopped.'Capua! Capua!' three or four voices cried monotonously into thenight.A clanking of swords dragged on the ground was heard, and somelively muttering that passed between a Lombard and a Piedmontese.It came from a group of subaltern officers, who were ending theirevening's amusement in coming to see the night train from Naplesto Rome pass through. While the conductor chatted respectfullywith the station-master, who gave him a commission for Caianello,and while the postman handed up a mail-sack full of letters to theclerk in the postal van, the officers, talking to each other and makingtheir spurs ring (from habit), looked to see if anyone got in or out ofthe train, peeping through the doors which were open for the sightof a fair feminine face or that of a friend. But many of the doorswere closed. Blue blinds were stretched over the panes, throughwhich glimmered a faint lamplight, as if coming from a place wherelay travellers overpowered by sleep. Bodies curled up in a darktangle of coats, shawls, and sundry coverings, were dimlydiscernible.