“Yes, exactly the same, Captain. If I mate an old dove with one much younger, it rarely turns out well. When the male dove is in love, he understands how to pay his fair one as many attentions, as the most elegant gallant shows the mistress of his heart. And do you know what the kissing means? The suitor feeds his darling, that is, seeks to win her affection by beautiful gifts. Then the wedding comes, and they build a nest. If there are young birds, they feed them together in perfect harmony. The aristocratic doves brood badly, and we put their eggs under birds of more ordinary breed.”
“Those are the noble ladies, who have nurses for their infants.”
“Unmated doves often make mischief among the mated ones.”
“Take warning, young man, and beware of being a bachelor. I’ll say nothing against the girls who remain unmarried, for I have found among them many sweet, helpful souls.”
“So have I, but unfortunately some bad ones too, as well as here in the dove-cote. On the whole my wards lead happy married lives, but if it comes to a separation--”
“Roland, my fore man, exactly as it is among human beings,” cried the fencing-master, clapping his hands.
“What do you mean by your Roland, Herr Allerts? You promised me a short time ago--but who is coming up the ladder?”
“She is bringing me a visitor. I know that voice and yet. Wait. It’s old Fraulein Van Hoogstraten’s steward.”
“From Nobelstrasse? Let me go, Wilhelm, for this Glipper crew--”
“Wait a little while, there is only room for one on the ladder,” said the musician, holding out his hand to Belotti to guide him from the last rung into his room.
“Spaniards and the allies of Spain,” muttered the fencing-master, opened the door, and called while descending the ladder: “I’ll wait down below till the air is pure again.”
The steward’s handsome face, usually smoothly shaven with the most extreme care, was to-day covered with a stubbly beard, and the old man looked sad and worn, as he began to tell Wilhelm what had occurred in his mistress’s house since the evening of the day before.
“Years may make a hot-tempered person weaker, but not calmer,” said the Italian, continuing his story. “I can’t look on and see the poor angel, for she isn’t far from the Virgin’s throne, treated like a sick dog that is flung out into the court-yard, so I got my discharge.”