Great was this
gentleman's courtesy; he laid down his pen, as if for ever, and gave
himself wholly to my concerns. His discourse delighted me, so
flowing were the phrases, so rounded the periods. Yes, there were
other inns; one at the top of the town--the _Vetere_--in a very
good position; and they doubtless excelled my own in modern comfort.
As a matter of fact, it might be avowed that the _Lionetti_, from
the point of view of the great centres of civilization, left
something to be desired--something to be desired; but it was a
good old inn, a reputable old inn, and probably on further
acquaintance----
Further acquaintance did not increase my respect for the _Lionetti_;
it would not be easy to describe those features in which, most
notably, it fell short of all that might be desired. But I proposed
no long stay at Cosenza, where malarial fever is endemic, and it did
not seem worth while to change my quarters. I slept very well.
I had come here to think about Alaric, and with my own eyes to
behold the place of his burial. Ever since the first boyish reading
of Gibbon, my imagination has loved to play upon that scene of
Alaric's death.
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