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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/20357-8.txt b/20357-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2e5586c --- /dev/null +++ b/20357-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5480 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Jerry, by Jean Webster + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Jerry + +Author: Jean Webster + +Release Date: January 14, 2007 [EBook #20357] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JERRY *** + + + + +Produced by David Clarke, Louise Pryor and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + + + JERRY + + + + + _BY THE SAME AUTHOR._ + UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME + Daddy-Long-Legs. + Just Patty. + Patty and Priscilla. + The Four Pools Mystery. + The Wheat Princess. + Dear Enemy. + Much Ado about Peter. + LONDON: HODDER & STOUGHTON. + + + + + JERRY + + By + JEAN WEBSTER + Author of "Dear Enemy," etc + + + HODDER AND STOUGHTON + LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO + + + + + Copyright, 1907, by + THE CENTURY CO. + + * * * * * + + Copyright, 1906, 1907, by + THE CROWELL PUBLISHING COMPANY. + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +The courtyard of the Hotel du Lac, furnished with half a dozen tables and +chairs, a red and green parrot chained to a perch, and a shady little +arbour covered with vines, is a pleasant enough place for morning coffee, +but decidedly too sunny for afternoon tea. It was close upon four of a +July day, when Gustavo, his inseparable napkin floating from his arm, +emerged from the cool dark doorway of the house and scanned the burning +vista of tables and chairs. He would never, under ordinary circumstances, +have interrupted his siesta for the mere delivery of a letter; but this +particular letter was addressed to the young American man, and young +American men, as every head waiter knows, are an unreasonably impatient +lot. The courtyard was empty, as he might have foreseen, and he was +turning with a patient sigh towards the long arbour that led to the lake, +when the sound of a rustling paper in the summer-house deflected his +course. He approached the doorway and looked inside. + +The young American man, in white flannels with a red guide-book +protruding from his pocket, was comfortably stretched in a lounging +chair engaged with a cigarette and a copy of the Paris _Herald_. He +glanced up with a yawn--excusable under the circumstances--but as his eye +fell upon the letter he sprang to his feet. + +'Hello, Gustavo! Is that for me?' + +Gustavo bowed. + +'_Ecco_! She is at last arrive, ze lettair for which you haf so moch +weesh.' He bowed a second time and presented it. 'Meestair Jayreen +Ailyar!' + +The young man laughed. + +'I don't wish to hurt your feelings, Gustavo, but I'm not sure I should +answer if my eyes were shut.' + +He picked up the letter, glanced at the address to make sure--the name +was Jerymn Hilliard, Jr.--and ripped it open with an exaggerated sigh of +relief. Then he glanced up and caught Gustavo's expression. Gustavo came +of a romantic race; there was a gleam of sympathetic interest in his eye. + +'Oh, you needn't look so knowing! I suppose you think this is a +love-letter? Well it's not. It is, since you appear to be interested, a +letter from my sister informing me that they will arrive to-night, and +that we will pull out for Riva by the first boat to-morrow morning. Not +that I want to leave you, Gustavo, but--Oh thunder!' + +He finished the reading in a frowning silence while the waiter stood at +polite attention, a shade of anxiety in his eye--there was usually +anxiety in his eye when it rested on Jerymn Hilliard, Jr. One could never +foresee what the young man would call for next. Yesterday he had rung the +bell and demanded a partner to play lawn tennis, as if the hotel kept +partners laid away in drawers like so many sheets. + +He crumpled up the letter and stuffed it in his pocket. + +'I say, Gustavo, what do you think of this? They're going to stay in +Lucerne till the tenth--that's next week--and they hope I won't mind +waiting; it will be nice for me to have a rest. A _rest_, man, and I've +already spent three days in Valedolmo!' + +'_Si_, signore, you will desire ze same room?' was as much as Gustavo +thought. + +'Ze same room? Oh, I suppose so.' + +He sank back into his chair and plunged his hands into his pockets with +an air of sombre resignation. The waiter hovered over him, divided +between a desire to return to his siesta, and a sympathetic interest in +the young man's troubles. Never before in the history of his connexion +with the Hotel du Lac had Gustavo experienced such a munificent, +companionable, expansive, entertaining, thoroughly unique and +inexplicable guest. Even the fact that he was American scarcely accounted +for everything. + +The young man raised his head and eyed his companion gloomily. + +'Gustavo, have you a sister?' + +'A sister?' Gustavo's manner was uncomprehending but patient. '_Si_, +signore, I have eight sister.' + +'Eight! Merciful saints. How do you manage to be so cheerful?' + +'Tree is married, signore, one uvver is betrofed, one is in a convent, +one is dead, and two is babies.' + +'I see--they're pretty well disposed of; but the babies will grow up, +Gustavo, and as for that betrothed one, I should still be a little +nervous if I were you; you can never be sure they are going to stay +betrothed. I hope she doesn't spend her time chasing over the map of +Europe making appointments with you to meet her in unheard of little +mountain villages where the only approach to Christian reading matter is +a Paris _Herald_ four days old, and then doesn't turn up to keep her +appointments?' + +Gustavo blinked. His supple back achieved another bow. + +'Sank you,' he murmured. + +'And you don't happen to have an aunt?' + +'An aunt, signore?' There was vagueness in his tone. + +'Yes, Gustavo, an aunt. A female relative who reads you like an open +book, who sees your faults and skips your virtues, who remembers how +dear and good and obliging your father was at your age, who hoped great +things of you when you were a baby, who had intended to make you her heir +but has about decided to endow an orphan asylum--have you, Gustavo, by +chance an aunt?' + +'_Si_, signore.' + +'I do not think you grasp my question. An _aunt_--the sister of your +father, or perhaps your mother.' + +A gleam of illumination swept over Gustavo's troubled features. + +'_Ecco_! You would know if I haf a _zia_--a aunt--yes, zat is it. A aunt. +_Sicuramente_, signore, I haf ten--leven aunt.' + +'Eleven aunts! Before such a tragedy I am speechless; you need say no +more, Gustavo, from this moment we are friends.' + +He held out his hand. Gustavo regarded it dazedly; then, since it seemed +to be expected, he gingerly presented his own. The result was a shining +newly-minted two-lire piece. He pocketed it with a fresh succession of +bows. + +'_Grazie tanto_! Has ze signore need of anysing?' + +'Have I need of anysing?' There was reproach, indignation, disgust in the +young man's tone. 'How can you ask such a question, Gustavo? Here am I, +three days in Valedolmo, with seven more stretching before me. I have +plenty of towels and soap and soft-boiled eggs, if that is what you +mean; but a man's spirit cannot be nourished on soap and soft-boiled +eggs. What I need is food for the mind--diversion, distraction, +amusement--no, Gustavo, you needn't offer me the Paris _Herald_ again. I +already know by heart the list of guests in every hotel in Switzerland.' + +'Ah, it is diversion zat you wish? Have you seen zat ver' beautiful Luini +in ze chapel of San Bartolomeo? It is four hundred years old.' + +'Yes, Gustavo, I have seen the Luini in the chapel of San Bartolomeo. I +derived all the pleasure to be got out of it the first afternoon I came.' + +'Ze garden of Prince Sartonio-Crevelli? Has ze signore seen ze cedar of +Lebanon in ze garden of ze prince?' + +'Yes, Gustavo, the signore has seen the cedar of Lebanon in the garden of +the prince, also the ilex tree two hundred years old and the india-rubber +plant from South America. They are extremely beautiful, but they don't +last a week.' + +'Have you swimmed in ze lake?' + +'It is lukewarm, Gustavo.' + +The waiter's eyes roved anxiously. They lighted on the lunette of +shimmering water and purple mountains visible at the farther end of the +arbour. + +'Zere is ze view,' he suggested humbly. 'Ze view from ze water front is +consider ver' beautiful, ver' nice. Many foreigners come entirely for +him. You can see Lago di Garda, Monte Brione, Monte Baldo wif ze ruin +castle of ze Scaliger, Monte Maggiore, ze Altissimo di Nago, ze snow +cover peak of Monte----' + +Mr. Jerymn Hilliard, Jr., stopped him with a gesture. + +'That will do; I read Baedeker myself, and I saw them all the first night +I came. You must know at your age, Gustavo, that a man can't enjoy a view +by himself; it takes two for that sort of thing.--Yes, the truth is that +I am lonely. You can see yourself to what straits I am pushed for +conversation. If I had your command of language, now, I would talk to the +German Alpine climbers.' + +An idea flashed over Gustavo's features. + +'Ah, zat is it! Why does not ze signore climb mountains? Ver' helful; +ver' diverting. I find guide.' + +'You needn't bother. Your guide would be Italian, and it's too much of a +strain to talk to a man all day in dumb show.' He folded his arms with a +weary sigh. 'A week of Valedolmo! An eternity!' + +Gustavo echoed the sigh. Though he did not entirely comprehend the +trouble, still he was of a generously sympathetic nature. + +'It is a pity,' he observed casually, 'zat you are not acquaint wif ze +Signor Americano who lives in Villa Rosa. He also finds Valedolmo +undiverting. He comes--but often--to talk wif me. He has fear of +forgetting how to spik Angleesh, he says.' + +The young man opened his eyes. + +'What are you talking about--a Signor Americano here in Valedolmo?' + +'_Sicuramente_, in zat rose-colour villa wif ze cypress trees and ze +_terrazzo_ on ze lake. His daughter, la Signorina Costantina, she live +wif him--ver' young, ver' beautiful'--Gustavo rolled his eyes and clasped +his hands--'beautiful like ze angels in Paradise--and she spik Italia +like I spik Angleesh.' + +Jerymn Hilliard, Jr., unfolded his arms and sat up alertly. + +'You mean to tell me that you had an American family up your sleeve all +this time and never said a word about it?' His tone was stern. + +'_Scusi_, signore, I have not known zat you have ze plaisir of zer +acquaintance.' + +'The pleasure of their acquaintance! Good heavens, Gustavo, when one +shipwrecked man meets another shipwrecked man on a desert island must +they be introduced before they can speak?' + +'_Si_, signore.' + +'And why, may I ask, should an intelligent American family be living in +Valedolmo?' + +'I do not know, signore. I have heard ze Signor Papa's healf was no good, +and ze doctors in Americk' zay say to heem, "You need change, to breave +ze beautiful climate of Italia." And he say, "All right, I go to +Valedolmo." It is small, signore, but ver' _famosa_. Oh, yes, _molto +famosa_. In ze autumn and ze spring foreigners come from all ze +world--Angleesh, French, German--_tutti_! Ze Hotel du Lac is full. Every +day we turn peoples away.' + +'So! I seem to have struck the wrong season.--But about this American +family, what's their name?' + +'La familia Veeldair from Nuovo York.' + +'Veeldair.' He shook his head. 'That's not American, Gustavo, at least +when you say it. But never mind, if they come from New York it's all +right. How many are there--just two?' + +'But no! Ze papa and ze signorina and ze--ze--' he rolled his eyes in +search of the word--'ze aunt!' + +'Another aunt! The sky appears to be raining aunts to-day. What does she +do for amusement--the signorina who is beautiful as the angels?' + +Gustavo spread out his hands. + +'Valedolmo, signore, is on ze frontier. It is--what you say--garrison +_cittą_. Many soldiers, many officers--captains, lieutenants, wif +uniforms and swords. Zay take tea on ze _terrazzo_ wif ze Signor Papa and +ze Signora Aunt, and most _specialmente_ wif ze Signorina Costantina. Ze +Signor Papa say he come for his healf, but if you ask me, I sink maybe he +come to marry his daughter.' + +'I see! And yet, Gustavo, American papas are generally not so keen as you +might suppose about marrying their daughters to foreign captains and +lieutenants even if they have got uniforms and swords. I shouldn't be +surprised if the Signor Papa were just a little nervous over the +situation. It seems to me there might be an opening for a likely young +fellow speaking the English language, even if he hasn't a uniform and +sword. How does he strike you?' + +'_Si_, signore.' + +'I'm glad you agree with me. It is now five minutes past four; do you +think the American family would be taking a siesta?' + +'I do not know, signore.' Gustavo's tone was still patient. + +'And whereabouts is the rose-coloured villa with the terrace on the +lake?' + +'It is a quarter of a hour beyond ze Porta Sant' Antonio. If ze gate is +shut you ring at ze bell and Giuseppe will open. But ze road is ver' hot +and ver' dusty. It is more cooler to take ze paf by ze lake. Straight to +ze left for ten minutes and step over ze wall; it is broken in zat place +and quite easy.' + +'Thank you, that is a wise suggestion; I shall step over the wall by all +means.' He jumped to his feet and looked about for his hat. 'You turn to +the left and straight ahead for ten minutes? Good-bye then till dinner. +I go in search of the Signorina Costantina who is beautiful as the angels +in Paradise, and who lives in a rose-coloured villa set in a cypress +grove on the shores of Lake Garda--not a bad setting for romance, is it, +Gustavo?--Dinner, I believe, is at seven o'clock?' + +'_Si_, signore, at seven; and would you like veal cooked Milanese +fashion?' + +'Nothing would please me more. We have only had veal Milanese fashion +five times since I came.' + +He waved his hand jauntily and strolled whistling down the arbour that +led to the lake. Gustavo looked after him and shook his head. Then he +took out the two-lire piece and rang it on the table. The metal rang +true. He shrugged his shoulders and turned back indoors to order the +veal. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The terrace of Villa Rosa juts out into the lake, bordered on three sides +by a stone parapet, and shaded above by a yellow-ochre awning. Masses of +oleanders hang over the wall and drop pink petals into the blue waters +below. As a study in colour the terrace is perfect, but, like the +courtyard of the Hotel du Lac, decidedly too hot for mid-afternoon. To +the right of the terrace, however, is a shady garden set in alleys of +cypress trees, and separated from the lake by a strip of beach and a low +balustrade. There could be no better resting-place for a warm afternoon. + +It was close upon four--five minutes past to be accurate--and the usual +afternoon quiet that enveloped the garden had fled before the garrulous +advent of four girls. Three of them, with black eyes and blacker hair, +were kneeling on the beach thumping and scrubbing a pile of linen. In +spite of their chatter they were working busily, and the grass beyond the +water-wall was already white with bleaching sheets, while a lace-trimmed +petticoat fluttered from a near-by oleander, and rows of silk stockings +stretched the length of the parapet. The most undeductive observer would +have guessed by this time that the pink villa, visible through the trees, +contained no such modern conveniences as stationary tubs. + +The fourth girl, with grey eyes and yellow-brown hair, was sitting at +ease on the balustrade, fanning herself with a wide-brimmed hat and +dangling her feet, clad in white tennis shoes, over the edge. She wore a +suit of white linen cut sailor fashion, low at the throat and with +sleeves rolled to the elbows. She looked very cool and comfortable and +free as she talked, with the utmost friendliness, to the three girls +below. Her Italian, to an unaccustomed ear, was exactly as glib as +theirs. + +The washer-girls were dressed in the gayest of peasant clothes--green and +scarlet petticoats, flowered kerchiefs, coral beads and flashing +earrings; you would have to go far into the hills in these degenerate +days before meeting their match on an Italian highway. But the girl on +the wall, who was actual if not titular ruler of the domain of Villa +Rosa, possessed a keen eye for effect; and--she plausibly argued--since +one must have washer-women about, why not, in the name of all that is +beautiful, have them in harmony with tradition and the landscape? +Accordingly, she designed and purchased their costumes herself. + +There drifted presently into sight from around the little promontory that +hid the village a blue and white boat with yellow lateen sails. She was +propelled gondolier fashion, for the wind was a mere breath, by a +picturesque youth in a suit of dark blue with white sash and flaring +collar--the hand of the girl on the wall was here visible also. + +The boat fluttering in toward shore, looked like a giant butterfly; and +her name, emblazoned in gold on her prow, was, appropriately, the +_Farfalla_. Earlier in the season, with a green hull and a dingy brown +sail, she had been, prosaically enough, the _Maria_. But since the advent +of the girl all this had been changed. The _Farfalla_ dropped her yellow +wings with the air of a salute, and lighted at the foot of the +water-steps under the terrace. The girl on the parapet leaned forward +eagerly. + +'Did you get any mail, Giuseppe?' she called. + +'_Si_, signorina.' He scrambled up the steps and presented a copy of the +London _Times_. + +She received it with a shrug. Clearly, she felt little interest in the +London _Times_. Giuseppe took himself back to his boat and commenced +fussing about its fittings, dusting the seats, plumping up the cushions, +with an air of absorption which deceived nobody. The signorina watched +him a moment with amused comprehension, then she called peremptorily-- + +'Giuseppe, you know you must spade the garden border.' + +Poor Giuseppe, in spite of his nautical costume, was man of all work. He +glanced dismally toward the garden border which lay basking in the +sunshine under the wall that divided Villa Rosa from the rest of the +world. It contained every known flower which blossoms in July in the +kingdom of Italy, from camellias and hydrangeas to heliotrope and +wall-flowers. Its spading was a complicated business and it lay too far +off to permit of conversation. Giuseppe was not only a lazy, but also a +social soul. + +'Signorina,' he suggested, 'would you not like a sail?' + +She shook her head. 'There is not wind enough and it is too hot and too +sunny.' + +'But yes, there's a wind, and cool--when you get out on the lake. I will +put up the awning, signorina, the sun shall not touch you.' + +She continued to shake her head and her eyes wandered suggestively to the +hydrangeas, but Giuseppe still made a feint of preoccupation. Not being a +cruel mistress, she dropped the subject, and turned back to her +conversation with the washer-girls. They were discussing--a pleasant +topic for a sultry summer afternoon--the probable content of Paradise. +The three girls were of the opinion that it was made up of warm sunshine +and cool shade, of flowers and singing birds and sparkling waters, of +blue skies and cloud-capped mountains--not unlike, it will be observed, +the very scene which at the moment stretched before them. In so much they +were all agreed, but there were several debatable points. Whether the +stones were made of gold, and whether the houses were not gold too, and, +that being the case, whether it would not hurt your eyes to look at them. +Marietta declared, blasphemously, as the others thought, that she +preferred a simple grey stone villa or at most one of pink stucco, to all +the golden edifices that Paradise contained. + +It was by now fifteen minutes past four, and a spectator had arrived, +though none of the five were aware of his presence. The spectator was +standing on the wall above the garden border examining with appreciation +the idyllic scene below him, and with most particular appreciation, the +dainty white-clad person of the girl on the balustrade. He was +wondering--anxiously--how he might make his presence known. For no very +tangible reason he had suddenly become conscious that the matter would be +easier if he carried in his pocket a letter of introduction. The purlieus +of Villa Rosa in no wise resembled a desert island; and in the face of +that very fluent Italian, the suspicion was forcing itself upon him that, +after all, the mere fact of a common country was not a sufficient bond of +union. He had definitely decided to withdraw, when the matter was taken +from his hands. + +The wall--as Gustavo had pointed out--was broken; it was owing to this +fact that he had been so easily able to climb it. Now, as he stealthily +turned, preparing to re-descend in the direction whence he had come, the +loose stone beneath his foot slipped and he slipped with it. Five +startled pairs of eyes were turned in his direction. What they saw, was a +young man in flannels suddenly throw up his arms, slide into an azalea +bush, from this to the balustrade, and finally land on all fours on the +narrow strip of beach, a shower of pink petals and crumbling masonry +falling about him. A momentary silence followed; then the washer-girls, +making sure that he was not injured, broke into a shrill chorus of +laughter, while the _Farfalla_ rocked under impact of Giuseppe's mirth. +The girl on the wall alone remained grave. + +The young man picked himself up, restored his guide-book to his pocket, +and blushingly stepped forward, hat in hand, to make an apology. One knee +bore a splash of mud, and his tumbled hair was sprinkled with azalea +blossoms. + +'I beg your pardon,' he stammered, 'I didn't mean to come so suddenly; +I'm afraid I broke your wall.' + +The girl dismissed the matter with a polite gesture. + +'It was already broken,' and then she waited with an air of grave +attention until he should state his errand. + +'I--I came----' He paused and glanced about vaguely; he could not at the +moment think of any adequate reason to account for his coming. + +'Yes?' Her eyes studied him with what appeared at once a cool and an +amused scrutiny. He felt himself growing red beneath it. + +'Can I do anything for you?' she prompted with the kind of desire of +putting him at his ease. + +'Thank you----' He grasped at the first idea that presented itself. 'I'm +stopping at the Hotel du Lac, and Gustavo, you know, told me there was a +villa somewhere around here that belongs to Prince Someone or Other. If +you ring at the gate and give the gardener two francs and a visiting +card, he will let you walk around and look at the trees.' + +'I see!' said the girl, 'and so now you are looking for the gate?' Her +tone suggested that she suspected him of trying to avoid both it and the +two francs. 'Prince Sartorio-Crevelli's villa is about half a mile +farther on.' + +'Ah, thank you,' he bowed a second time, and then added out of the +desperate need of saying something, 'There's a cedar of Lebanon in it and +an india-rubber plant from South America.' + +'Indeed!' + +She continued to observe him with polite interest, though she made no +move to carry on the conversation. + +'You--are an American?' he asked at length. + +'Oh, yes,' she agreed easily. 'Gustavo knows that.' + +He shifted his weight. + +'I am an American too,' he observed. + +'Really?' The girl leaned forward and examined him more closely, an +innocent, candid, wholly detached look in her eyes. 'From your appearance +I should have said you were German--most of the foreigners who visit +Valedolmo are German.' + +'Well, I'm not,' he said shortly. 'I'm American.' + +'It is a pity my father is not at home,' she returned, '_he_ enjoys +meeting Americans.' + +A gleam of anger replaced the embarrassment in the young man's eyes. He +glanced about for a dignified means of escape; they had him pretty well +penned in. Unless he wished to reclimb the wall--and he did not--he must +go by the terrace, which retreat was cut off by the washer-women, or by +the parapet, already occupied by the girl in white and the washing. He +turned abruptly and his elbow brushed a stocking to the ground. + +He stooped to pick it up and then he blushed still a shade deeper. + +'This is washing day,' observed the girl with a note of apology. She rose +to her feet and stood on the top of the parapet while she beckoned to +Giuseppe, then she turned and looked down upon the young man with an +expression of frank amusement. 'I hope you will enjoy the cedar of +Lebanon and the india-rubber tree. Good afternoon.' + +She jumped to the ground and crossed to the water-steps, where Giuseppe, +with a radiant smile, was steadying the boat against the landing. She +settled herself comfortably among the cushions and then for a moment +glanced back towards shore. + +'You would better go out by the gate,' she called. 'The wall on the +farther side is harder to climb than the one you came in by; and +besides, it has broken glass on the top.' + +Giuseppe raised the yellow sail and the _Farfalla_, with a graceful dip, +glided out to sea. The young man stood eyeing its progress revengefully. +Now that the girl was out of hearing, a number of pointed things occurred +to him which he might have said. His thoughts were interrupted by a fresh +giggle from behind, and he found that the three washer-girls were +laughing at him. + +'Your mistress's manners are not the best in the world,' said he +severely, 'and I am obliged to add that yours are no better.' + +They giggled again, though there was no malice behind their humour; it +was merely that they found the lack of a language in common a +mirth-provoking circumstance. Marietta, with a flash of black eyes, +murmured something very kindly in Italian, as she shook out a linen +sailor suit--the exact twin of the one that had gone to sea--and spread +it on the wall to dry. + +The young man did not linger for further words. Setting his hat firmly on +his head, he vaulted the parapet and strode off down the cypress alley +that stretched before him; he passed the pink villa without a glance. At +the gate he stood aside to admit a horse and rider. The horse was +prancing in spite of the heat; the rider wore a uniform and a shining +sword. There was a clank of accoutrements as he passed, and the wayfarer +caught a gleam of piercing black eyes and a slight black moustache turned +up at the ends. The rider saluted politely and indifferently, and jangled +on. The young man scowled after him maliciously until the cypresses hid +him from view; then he turned and took up the dusty road back towards the +Hotel du Lac. + +It was close upon five, and Gustavo was in the courtyard feeding the +parrot, when his eye fell upon the American guest scuffling down the road +in a cloud of white dust. Gustavo hastened to the gate to welcome him +back, his very eyebrows expressive of his eagerness for news. + +'You are returned, signore?' + +The young man paused and regarded him unemotionally. + +'Yes, Gustavo, I am returned--with thanks.' + +'You have seen ze Signorina Costantina?' + +'Yes, I saw her.' + +'And is it not as I have said, zat she is beautiful as ze holy angels?' + +'Yes, Gustavo, she is--and just about equally remote. You may make out my +bill.' + +The waiter's face clouded. + +'You do not wish to remain longer, signore?' + +'Can't stand it, Gustavo; it's too infernally restful.' + +Poor Gustavo saw a munificent shower of tips vanishing into nothing. His +face was rueful, but his manner was undiminishingly polite. + +'_Si_, signore, sank you. When shall you wish ze omnibus?' + +'To-morrow morning for the first boat.' + +Gustavo bowed to the inevitable; and the young man passed on. He paused +half-way across the courtyard. + +'What time does the first boat leave?' + +'At half-past five, signore.' + +'Er--no--I'll take the second.' + +'_Si_, signore. At half-past ten.' + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +It was close upon ten when Jerymn Hilliard, Jr., equipped for travel in +proper blue serge, appeared in the doorway of the Hotel du Lac. He looked +at his watch and discovered that he still had twenty minutes before the +omnibus meeting the second boat was due. He strolled across the +courtyard, paused for a moment to tease the parrot, and sauntered on to +his favourite seat in the summer-house. He had barely established himself +with a cigarette when who should appear in the gateway but Miss Constance +Wilder, of Villa Rosa, and a middle-aged man--at a glance the Signor +Papa. Jerymn Hilliard's heart doubled its beat. Why, he asked himself +excitedly, _why_ had they come? + +The Signor Papa closed his green umbrella, and having dropped into a +chair--obligingly near the summer-house--took off his hat and fanned +himself. He had a tendency toward being stout, and felt the heat. The +girl, meanwhile, crossed the court and jangled the bell; she waited +two--three--minutes, then she pulled the rope again. + +'Gustavo! Oh, Gustavo!' + +The bell might have been rung by any one--the fisherman, the +omnibus-driver, Suor Celestina from the convent asking her everlasting +alms--and Gustavo took his time. But the voice was unmistakable; he +waited only to throw a clean napkin over his arm before hurrying to +answer. + +'_Buon giorno_, signorina! Good morning, signore. It is beautiful +wea-thir, but warm. _Gią_, it is warm.' + +He bowed and smiled and rubbed his hands together. His moustaches, fairly +bristling with good will, turned up in a half-circle until they caressed +his nose on either side. He bustled about placing table and chairs, and +recklessly dusting them with the clean napkin. The signorina laid her +fluffy white parasol on one chair and seated herself on another, her +profile turned to the summer-house. Gustavo hovered over them, awaiting +their pleasure, the genius itself of respectful devotion. It was +Constance who gave the order--she, it might be noticed, gave most of the +orders that were given in her vicinity. She framed it in English out of +deference to Gustavo's pride in his knowledge of the language. + +'A glass of _vino santo_ for the signore and _limonata_ for me. I wish to +put the sugar in myself, the last time you mixed it, Gustavo, it was all +sugar and no lemon. And bring a bowl of cracked ice--_fino_--_fino_--and +some pine nut cakes if you are sure they are fresh.' + +'Sank you, signorina. _Subitissimo_!' + +He was off across the court, his black coat-tails, his white napkin +streaming behind, proclaiming to all the world that he was engaged on the +Signorina Americana's bidding; for persons of lesser note he still +preserved a measure of dignity. + +The young man in the summer-house had meanwhile dropped his cigarette +upon the floor and noiselessly stepped on it. He had also--with the +utmost caution lest the chair creak--shifted his position so that he +might command the profile of the girl. The entrance to the summer house +was fortunately on the other side, and in all likelihood they would not +have occasion to look within. It was eavesdropping of course, but he had +already been convicted of that yesterday, and in any case it was not such +very bad eavesdropping. The courtyard of the Hotel du Lac was public +property; he had been there first, he was there by rights as a guest of +the house; if anything, they were the interlopers. Besides, nobody talked +secrets with a head waiter. His own long conversations with Gustavo were +as open and innocent as the day; the signorina was perfectly welcome to +listen to them as much as she chose. + +She was sitting with her chin in her hand, eyeing the flying coat-tails +of Gustavo, a touch of amusement in her face. Her father was eyeing her +severely. + +'Constance, it is disgraceful!' + +She laughed. Apparently she already knew or divined what it was that was +disgraceful, but the accusation did not appear to bother her much. Mr. +Wilder proceeded grumblingly. + +'It's bad enough with those five deluded officers, but they walked into +the trap with their eyes open and it's their own affair. But look at +Gustavo; he can scarcely carry a dish without breaking it when you are +watching him. And Giuseppe--that confounded _Farfalla_ with its yellow +sails floats back and forth in front of the terrace till I am on the +point of having it scuttled as a public nuisance; and those three +washer-women and the post-office clerk and the boy who brings milk, and +Luigi and--every man, woman and child in the village of Valedolmo!' + +'And my own dad as well?' + +Mr. Wilder shook his head. + +'I came here at your instigation for rest and relaxation--to get rid of +nervous worries, and here I find a big new worry waiting for me that I'd +never thought of having before. What if my only daughter should take it +in her head to marry one of these infernally good-looking Italian +officers?' + +Constance reached over and patted his arm. + +'Don't let it bother you, Dad; I assure you I won't do anything of the +sort. I should think it my duty to learn the subjunctive mood, and that +is impossible.' + +Gustavo came hurrying back with a tray. He arranged the glasses, the ice, +the sugar, the cakes, with hovering, elaborate obsequiousness. The +signorina examined the ice doubtfully, then with approval. + +'It's exactly right to-day, Gustavo! You got it too large the last time, +you remember.' + +She stirred in some sugar and tasted it tentatively, her head on one +side. Gustavo hung upon her expression in an agony of apprehension; one +would have thought it a matter for public mourning if the lemonade were +not mixed exactly right. But apparently it was right--she nodded and +smiled--and Gustavo's expression assumed relief. Constance broke open a +pine nut cake and settled herself for conversation. + +'Haven't you any guests, Gustavo?' Her eyes glanced over the empty +courtyard. 'I am afraid the hotel is not having a very prosperous +season.' + +'_Grazie_, signorina. Zer never are many in summer; it is ze dead time, +but still zay come and zay go. Seven arrive last night.' + +'Seven! That's nice. What are they like?' + +'German mountain-climbers wif nails in zer shoes. Zey have gone to Riva +on ze first boat.' + +'That's too bad--then the hotel is empty?' + +'But no! Zer is an Italian signora wif two babies and a governess, and +two English ladies and an American gentleman----' + +'An American gentleman?' Her tone was languidly interested. 'How long has +he been here?' + +'Tree--four days.' + +'Indeed--what is he like?' + +'Nice--ver' nice.' (Gustavo might well say that; his pockets were lined +with the American gentleman's silver lire.) 'He talk to me always. +"Gustavo," he say, "I am all alone; I wish to be 'mused. Come and talk +Angleesh." Yes, it is true; I have no time to finish my work; I spend +whole day talking wif dis yong American gentleman. He is just a +little----' He touched his head significantly. + +'Really?' She raised her eyes with an air of awakened interest. 'And how +did he happen to come to Valedolmo?' + +'He come to meet his family, his sister and his--his aunt, who are going +wif him to ze Tyrollo. But zay have not arrive. Zey are in Lucerne, he +says, where zer is a lion dying, and zey wish to wait until he is dead; +zen zey come.--Yes, it is true; he tell me zat.' Gustavo tapped his head +a second time. + +The signorina glanced about apprehensively. + +'Is he safe, Gustavo--to be about?' + +'_Si_, signorina, _sicuramente_! He is just a little simple.' + +Mr. Wilder chuckled. + +'Where is he, Gustavo? I think I'd like to make that young man's +acquaintance.' + +'I sink, signore, he is packing his trunk. He go away to-day.' + +'To-day, Gustavo?' There was audible regret in Constance's tone. 'Why is +he going?' + +'It is not possible for him to stand it, signorina. Valedolmo too dam +slow.' + +'Gustavo! You mustn't say that; it is very, very bad. Nice men don't say +it.' + +Gustavo held his ground. + +'_Si_, signorina, zat yong American gentleman say it--dam slow, no +_divertimento_.' + +'He's just about right, Gustavo,' Mr. Wilder broke in. 'The next time a +young American gentleman blunders into the Hotel du Lac you send him +around to me.' + +'_Si_, signore.' + +Gustavo rolled his eyes toward the signorina; she continued to sip her +lemonade. + +'I have told him yesterday an American family live at Villa Rosa; he say, +"All right, I go call," but--but I sink maybe you were not at home.' + +'Oh!' The signorina raised her head in apparent enlightenment. 'So that +was the young man? Yes, to be sure, he came, but he said he was looking +for Prince Sartorio's villa. I am sorry you were away, father, you would +have enjoyed him; his English was excellent.--Did he tell you he saw me, +Gustavo?' + +'_Si_, signorina, he tell me.' + +'What did he say? Did he think I was nice?' + +Gustavo looked embarrassed. + +'I--I no remember, signorina.' + +She laughed and to his relief changed the subject. + +'Those English ladies who are staying here--what do they look like? Are +they young?' + +Gustavo delivered himself of an inimitable gesture which suggested that +the English ladies had entered the bounds of that indefinite period when +the subject of age must be politely waived. + +'They are tall, signorina, and of a thinness--you would not believe it +possible.' + +'I see! And so the poor young man was bored?' + +Gustavo bowed vaguely. He saw no connexion. + +'He was awfully good-looking,' she added with a sigh. 'I'm afraid I made +a mistake. It would be rather fun, don't you think, Dad, to have an +entertaining young American gentleman about?' + +'Ump!' he grunted. 'I thought you were so immensely satisfied with the +officers.' + +'Oh, I am,' she agreed with a shrug which dismissed for ever the young +American gentleman. + +'Well, Gustavo,' she added in a business-like tone, 'I will tell you why +we called. The doctor says the Signor Papa is getting too fat. I don't +think he's too fat, do you? He seems to me just comfortably chubby; but +anyway, the doctor says he needs exercise, so we're going to begin +climbing mountains with nails in our shoes like the Germans. And we're +going to begin to-morrow because we've got two English people at the +villa who adore mountains. Do you think you can find us a guide and some +donkeys? We want a nice, gentle, lady-like donkey for my aunt, and +another for the English lady, and a third to carry the things--and maybe +me, if I get tired. Then we want a man who will twist their tails and +make them go; and I am very particular about the man. I want him to be +picturesque--there's no use being in Italy if you can't have things +picturesque, is there, Gustavo?' + +'_Si_, signorina,' he bowed and resumed his attitude of strained +attention. + +'He must have curly hair and black eyes and white teeth and a nice smile; +I should like him to wear a red sash and earrings. He must be obliging +and cheerful and deferential and speak good Italian--I won't have a man +who speaks only dialect. He must play the mandolin and sing Santa +Lucia--I believe that's all.' + +'And I suppose since he is to act as guide he must know the region?' her +father mildly suggested. + +'Oh, no, that's immaterial; we can always ask our way.' + +Mr. Wilder grunted, but offered no further suggestion. + +'We pay four lire a day and furnish his meals,' she added munificently. +'And we shall begin with the castle on Monte Baldo; then when we get very +proficient we'll climb Monte Maggiore. Do you understand?' + +'Ze signorina desires tree donkeys and a driver at seven o'clock +to-morrow morning to climb Monte Baldo?' + +'In brief, yes, but _please_ remember the earrings.' + +Meanwhile a commotion was going on behind them. The hotel omnibus had +rumbled into the courtyard. A _fachino_ had dragged out a leather trunk, +an English hat-box and a couple of valises and dumped them on the ground +while he ran back for the paste pot and a pile of labels. The two +under-waiters, the chambermaid and the boy who cleaned boots had drifted +into the court. It was evident that the American gentleman's departure +was imminent. + +The luggage was labelled and hoisted to the roof of the omnibus; they all +drew up in a line with their eyes on the door; but still the young man +did not come. Gustavo, over his shoulder, dispatched a waiter to hunt him +up. The waiter returned breathless. The gentleman was nowhere. He had +searched the entire house; there was not a trace. Gustavo sent the +boot-boy flying down the arbour to search the garden; he was beginning to +feel anxious. What if the gentleman in a sudden fit of melancholia had +thrown himself into the lake? That would indeed be an unfortunate affair! + +Constance reassured him, and at the same time she arose. It occurred to +her suddenly that, since the young man was going, there was nothing to be +gained by waiting, and he might think---- She picked up her parasol and +started for the gate, but Mr. Wilder hung back; he wanted to see the +matter out. + +'Father,' said she reproachfully, 'it's embarrassing enough for him to +fee all those people without our staying and watching him do it.' + +'I suppose it is,' he acknowledged regretfully, as he resumed his hat and +umbrella and palm-leaf fan. + +She paused for a second in the gateway. + +'_Addio_, Gustavo,' she called over her shoulder. '_Don't_ forget the +earrings.' + +Gustavo bowed twice and turned back with a dazed air to direct the +business in hand. The boot-boy, reappearing, shook his head. No, the +gentleman was not to be found in the garden. The omnibus driver leaned +from his seat and swore. + +_Corpo di Bacco_! Did he think the boat would wait all day for the sake +of one passenger? As it was, they were ten minutes late and would have to +gallop every step of the way. + +The turmoil of ejaculation and gesture was approaching a climax; when +suddenly, who should come sauntering into the midst of it but the young +American man himself! He paused to light a cigarette, then waved his hand +aloft toward his leather belongings. + +'Take 'em down, Gustavo. Changed my mind; not going to-day--it's too +hot.' + +Gustavo gasped. + +'But, signore, you have paid for your ticket.' + +'True, Gustavo, but there is no law compelling me to use it. To tell the +truth I find that I am fonder of Valedolmo than I had supposed. There is +something satisfying about the peace and tranquillity of the place--one +doesn't realize it till the moment of parting comes. Do you think I can +obtain a room for a--well, an indefinite period?' + +Gustavo saw a dazzling vista of silver lire stretching into the future. +With an all-inclusive gesture he placed the house, the lake, the +surrounding mountains, at the disposal of the American. + +'You shall have what you wish, signore. At dis season ze Hotel du +Lac----' + +'Is not crowded, and there are half a hundred rooms at my disposal? Very +well, I will keep the one I have, which commands a very attractive view +of a rose-coloured villa set in a grove of cypress trees.' + +The others had waited in a state of suspension, dumbfounded at what was +going on. But as soon as the young man dipped into his pocket and fished +out a handful of silver, they broke into smiles; this at least was +intelligible. The silver was distributed, the luggage was hoisted down, +the omnibus was dismissed. The courtyard resumed its former quiet; just +the American gentleman, Gustavo and the parrot were left. + +Then suddenly a frightful suspicion dawned upon Gustavo--it was more than +a suspicion; it was an absolute certainty which in his excitement he had +overlooked. From where had the American gentleman dropped? Not the sky, +assuredly, and there was no place else possible, unless the door of the +summer-house. Yes, he had been in the summer-house, and not sleeping +either. An indefinable something about his manner informed Gustavo that +he was privy to the entire conversation. Gustavo, a picture of guilty +remorse, searched his memory for the words he had used. Why, oh why, had +he not piled up adjectives? It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and he +had wantonly thrown it away. + +But--to his astonished relief--the young man appeared to be bearing no +malice. He appeared, on the contrary, quite unusually cheerful as he +sauntered, whistling, across the court and seated himself in the exact +chair the signorina had occupied. He plunged his hand into his pocket +suggestively--Gustavo had been the only one omitted in the distribution +of silver--and drew forth a roll of bills. Having selected five crisp +five-lire notes, he placed them under the sugar bowl, and watched his +companion while he blew three meditative rings of smoke. + +'Gustavo,' he inquired, 'do you suppose you could find me some nice, +gentle, lady-like donkeys, and a red sash and a pair of earrings?' + +Gustavo's fascinated gaze had been fixed upon the sugar bowl and he had +only half caught the words. + +'_Scusi_, signore, I no understand.' + +'Just sit down, Gustavo, it makes me nervous to see you standing all the +time. I can't be comfortable, you know, unless everybody else is +comfortable. Now pay strict attention and see if you can grasp my +meaning.' + +Gustavo dubiously accepted the edge of the indicated chair; he wished to +humour the signore's mood, however incomprehensible that mood might be. +For half an hour he listened with strained attention while the gentleman +talked and toyed with the sugar bowl. Amazement, misgiving, amusement, +daring, flashed in succession across his face; in the end he leaned +forward with shining eyes. + +'_Si, si_,' he whispered after a conspiratorial glance over his shoulder, +'I will do it all; you may trust to me.' + +The young man rose, removed the sugar bowl, and sauntered on toward the +road. Gustavo pocketed the notes and gazed after him. + +'_Dio mio_,' he murmured as he set about gathering up the glasses, 'zese +Americans!' + +At the gate the young man paused to light another cigarette. + +'_Addio_, Gustavo,' he called over his shoulder, '_don't_ forget the +earrings!' + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +The table was set on the terrace; breakfast was served and the company +was gathered. Breakfast consisted of the usual caffč-latte, rolls and +strained honey, and--since a journey was to the fore and something +sustaining needed--a soft-boiled egg apiece. There were four persons +present, though there should have been five. The two guests were an +Englishman and his wife, whom the chances of travel had brought over +night to Valedolmo. + +Between them, presiding over the coffee machine, was Mr. Wilder's sister, +'Miss Hazel'--never 'Miss Wilder' except to the butcher and baker. It was +the cross of her life, she had always affirmed, that her name was not +Mary or Jane or Rebecca. 'Hazel' does well enough when one is eighteen +and beautiful, but when one is fifty and no longer beautiful, it is +little short of absurd. But if any one at fifty could carry such a name +gracefully, it was Miss Hazel Wilder; her fifty years sat as jauntily as +Constance's twenty-two. This morning she was very business-like in her +short skirt, belted jacket, and green felt Alpine hat with a feather in +the side. No one would mistake her for a cyclist or a golfer or a +motorist or anything in the world but an Alpine climber; whatever Miss +Hazel was or was not, she was always _game_. + +Across from Miss Hazel sat her brother in knickerbockers, his Alpine +stock at his elbow and also his fan. Since his domicile in Italy, Mr. +Wilder's fan had assumed the nature of a symbol; he could no more be +separated from it than St. Sebastian from his arrows or St. Laurence from +his gridiron. At Mr. Wilder's elbow was the empty chair where Constance +should have been--she who had insisted on six as a proper breakfast hour, +and had grudgingly consented to postpone it till half-past out of +deference to her sleepy-headed elders. Her father had finished his egg +and hers too, before she appeared, as nonchalant and smiling as if she +were out the earliest of all. + +'I think you might have waited!' was her greeting from the doorway. + +She advanced to the table, saluted in military fashion, dropped a kiss on +her father's bald spot, and possessed herself of the empty chair. She too +was clad in mountain-climbing costume, in so far as blouse and skirt and +leather leggings went, but above her face there fluttered the fluffy +white brim of a ruffled sun hat with a bunch of pink rosebuds set over +one ear. + +'I am sorry not to wear my own Alpine hat, Aunt Hazel; I look so +deliciously German in it, but I simply can't afford to burn all the skin +off my nose.' + +'You can't make us believe that,' said her father. 'The reason is, that +Lieutenant di Ferara and Captain Coroloni are going with us to-day, and +that this hat is more becoming than the other.' + +'It's one reason,' Constance agreed imperturbably, 'but, as I say, I +don't wish to burn the skin off my nose, because that is unbecoming too. +You are ungrateful, Dad,' she added as she helped herself to honey with a +liberal hand, 'I invited them solely on your account because you like to +hear them talk English. Have the donkeys come?' + +'The donkeys are at the back door nibbling the buds off the rose bushes.' + +'And the driver?' + +'Is sitting on the kitchen doorstep drinking coffee and smiling over the +top of his cup at Elizabetta. There are two of him.' + +'Two! I only ordered one.' + +'One is the official driver and the other is a boy whom he has brought +along to do the work.' + +Constance eyed her father sharply. There was something at once guilty and +triumphant about his expression. + +'What is it, Dad?' she inquired sternly. 'I suppose he has not got a sash +and earrings.' + +'On the contrary, he has.' + +'Really? How clever of Gustavo! I hope,' she added anxiously, 'that he +talks good Italian?' + +'I don't know about his Italian, but he talks uncommonly good English.' + +'English!' There was reproach, disgust, disillusionment, in her tone. +'Not really, father?' + +'Yes, really and truly--almost as well as I do. He has lived in New York +and he speaks English like a dream--real English--not the +Gustavo--Lieutenant di Ferara kind. I can understand what he says.' + +'How simply horrible!' + +'Very convenient, I should say.' + +'If there's anything I detest, it's an Americanized Italian--and here in +Valedolmo of all places, where you have a right to demand something +unique and romantic and picturesque and real. It's too bad of Gustavo! I +shall never place any faith in his judgment again. You may talk English +to the man if you like; I shall address him in nothing but Italian.' + +As they rose from the table she suggested pessimistically, 'Let's go and +look at the donkeys--I suppose they'll be horrid, scraggly, knock-kneed +little beasts.' + +They turned out, however, to be unusually attractive, as donkeys go, and +they were innocently engaged in nibbling, not rose leaves, but grass, +under the tutelage of a barefoot boy. Constance patted their shaggy +mouse-coloured noses, made the acquaintance of the boy, whose name was +Beppo, and looked about for the driver proper. He rose and bowed as she +approached. His appearance was even more violently spectacular than she +had ordered; Gustavo had given good measure. + +He wore a loose white shirt--immaculately white--with a red silk +handkerchief knotted about his throat, brown corduroy knee-breeches, and +a red cotton sash with the hilt of a knife conspicuously protruding. His +corduroy jacket was slung carelessly across his shoulders, his hat was +cocked jauntily, with a red heron feather stuck in the band; last, +perfect touch of all, in his ears--at his ears rather (a close +examination revealed the thread)--two golden hoops flashed in the +sunlight. His skin was dark--not too dark--just a good healthy out-door +tan: his brows level and heavy, his gaze candour itself. He wore a tiny +suggestion of a moustache which turned up at the corners (a suspicious +examination of this, might have revealed the fact that it was touched up +with burnt cork); there was no doubt but that he was a handsome fellow, +and his attire suggested that he knew it. + +Constance clasped her hands in an ecstasy of admiration. + +'He's perfect!' she cried. 'Where on earth did Gustavo find him? Did you +ever see anything so beautiful?' she appealed to the others. 'He looks +like a brigand in opera bouffe.' + +The donkey-man reddened visibly and fumbled with his hat. + +'My dear,' her father warned, 'he understands English.' + +She continued to gaze with the open admiration one would bestow upon a +picture or a view or a blue-ribbon horse. The man flashed her a momentary +glance from a pair of searching grey eyes, then dropped his gaze humbly +to the ground. + +'_Buon giorno_,' he said in glib Italian. + +Constance studied him more intently. There was something elusively +familiar about his expression; she was sure she had seen him before. + +'_Buon giorno_,' she replied in Italian. 'You have lived in the United +States?' + +'_Si_, signorina.' + +'What is your name?' + +'I spik Angleesh,' he observed. + +'I don't care if you do speak English; I prefer Italian--what is your +name?' She repeated the question in Italian. + +'_Si_, signorina,' he ventured again. An anxious look had crept to his +face and he hastily turned away and commenced carrying parcels from the +kitchen. Constance looked after him, puzzled and suspicious. The one +insult which she could not brook was for an Italian to fail to understand +her when she talked Italian. As he returned and knelt to tighten the +strap of a hamper, she caught sight of the thread that held his earring. +She looked a second longer, and a sudden smile of illumination flashed +to her face. She suppressed it quickly and turned away. + +'He seems rather slow about understanding,' she remarked to the others, +'but I dare say he'll do.' + +'The poor fellow is embarrassed,' apologized her father. 'His name is +Tony,' he added--even he had understood that much Italian. + +'Was there ever an Italian who had been in America whose name was not +Tony? Why couldn't he have been Angelico or Felice or Pasquale or +something decently picturesque?' + +'My dear,' Miss Hazel objected, 'I think you are hypercritical. The man +is scarcely to blame for his name.' + +'I suppose not,' she agreed, 'though I should have included that in my +order.' + +Further discussion was precluded by the appearance of a station-carriage +which turned in at the gate and stopped before them. Two officers +descended and saluted. In summer uniforms of white linen with gold +shoulder-straps, and shining top-boots, they rivalled the donkey-man in +decorativeness. Constance received them with flattering acclaim, while +she noted from the corner of her eye the effect upon Tony. He had not +counted upon this addition to the party, and was as scowling as she could +have wished. While the officers were engaged in making their bow to the +others, Constance casually reapproached the donkeys. Tony feigned +immersion in the business of strapping hampers; he had no wish to be +drawn into any Italian _tźte-ą-tźte_. But to his relief she addressed him +this time in English. + +'Are these donkeys used to mountain-climbing?' + +'But yes, signorina! _Sicuramente_. Zay are ver' strong, ver' good. Zat +donk', signorina, he go all day and never one little stumble.' + +His English, she noted with amused appreciation, was an exact copy of +Gustavo's; he had learned his lesson well. But she allowed not the +slightest recognition of the fact to appear in her face. + +'And what are their names?' she inquired. + +'Dis is Fidilini, signorina, and zat one wif ze white nose is Macaroni, +and zat ovver is Cristoforo Colombo.' + +Elizabetta appeared in the doorway with two rush-covered flasks, and Tony +hurried forward to receive them. There was a complaisant set to his +shoulders as he strode off, Constance noted delightedly; he was +felicitating himself upon the ease with which he had fooled her. Well! +she would give him cause before the day was over for other than +felicitations. She stifled a laugh of prophetic triumph and sauntered +over to Beppo. + +'When Tony is engaged as a guide do you always go with him?' + +'Not always, signorina, but Carlo has wished me to go to-day to look +after the donkeys.' + +'And who is Carlo?' + +'He is the guide who owns them.' + +Beppo looked momentarily guilty; the answer had slipped out before he +thought. + +'Oh, indeed! But if Tony is a guide why doesn't he have donkeys of his +own?' + +'He used to, but one unfortunately fell into the lake and got drowned, +and the other died of a sickness.' + +He put forth this preposterous statement with a glance as grave and +innocent as that of a little cherub. + +'Is Tony a good guide?' + +'But yes, of the best!' + +There was growing anxiety in Beppo's tone. He divined suspicion behind +these persistent inquiries, and he knew that in case Tony were dismissed, +his own munificent pay would stop. + +'Do you understand any English?' she suddenly asked. + +He modestly repudiated any great knowledge. 'A word here, a word there; I +learn it in school.' + +'I see!' She paused for a moment and then inquired casually, 'Have you +known Tony long?' + +'_Si_, signorina.' + +'How long?' + +Beppo considered. Some one, clearly, must vouch for the man's +respectability. This was not in the lesson that had been taught him, but +he determined to branch out for himself. + +'He is my father, signorina.' + +'Really! He looks young to be your father--have you any brothers and +sisters, Beppo?' + +'I have four brothers, signorina, and five sisters.' He fell back upon +the truth with relief. + +'_Davvero_!' + +The signorina smiled upon him, a smile of such heavenly sweetness that he +instantly joined the already crowded ranks of her admirers. She drew from +her pocket a handful of coppers and dropped them into his grimy little +palm. + +'Here, Beppo, are some soldi for the brothers and sisters. I hope that +you will be good and obedient and _always_ tell me the truth.' + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +After some delay--owing to Tony's inability to balance the chafing-dish +on Cristoforo Colombo's back--they filed from the gateway, an imposing +cavalcade. The ladies were on foot, loftily oblivious to the fact that +three empty saddles awaited their pleasure. Constance, a gesticulating +officer at either hand, was vivaciously talking Italian, while Tony, +trudging behind, listened with a sombre light in his eye. She now and +then cast a casual glance over her shoulder, and as she caught sight of +his gloomy face the animation of her Italian redoubled. The situation +held for her mischief-loving soul undreamed-of possibilities; and though +she ostensibly occupied herself with the officers, she by no means +neglected the donkey-man. + +During the first few miles of the journey he earned his four francs. +Twice he reshifted the pack because Constance thought it insecure (it was +a disgracefully unprofessional pack; most guides would have blushed at +the making of it); once he retraced their path some two hundred yards in +search of a veil she thought she had dropped--it turned out that she had +had it in her pocket all of the time. He chased Fidilini over half the +mountainside while the others were resting, and he carried the +chafing-dish for a couple of miles because it refused to adjust itself +nicely to the pack. The morning ended by his being left behind with a +balking donkey, while the others completed the last ascent that led to +their halting-place for lunch. + +It was a small plateau shaded by oak trees with a broad view below them, +and a mountain stream foaming down from the rocks above. It was owing to +Beppo's knowledge of the mountain paths rather than Tony's which had +guided them to this agreeable spot; though no one in the party except +Constance appeared to have noted the fact. Tony arrived some ten minutes +after the others, hot but victorious, driving Cristoforo Colombo before +him. Constance welcomed his return with an off-hand nod and set him about +preparing lunch. He and Beppo served it and repacked the hampers, +entirely ignored by the others of the party. Poor Tony was beginning to +realize that a donkey-man lives on a desert island in so far as any +companionship goes. But his moment was coming. As they were about to +start on, Constance spied high above their heads, where the stream burst +from the rocks, a clump of starry white blossoms. + +'Edelweiss!' she cried. 'Oh, I must have it--it's the first I ever saw +growing; I hadn't supposed we were high enough.' She glanced at the +officers. + +The ascent was not dangerous, but it was undeniably muddy, and they both +wore white; with very good cause they hesitated. And while they +hesitated, the opportunity was lost. Tony sprang forward, scrambled up +the precipice hand over hand, swung out across the stream by the aid of +an overhanging branch, and secured the flowers. It was very gracefully +and easily done, and a burst of applause greeted his descent. He divided +his flowers into two equal parts, and sweeping off his hat, presented +them with a bow, not to Constance, but to the officers, who somewhat +sulkily passed them on. She received them with a smile; for an instant +her eyes met Tony's, and he fell back, rewarded. + +The captain and lieutenant for the first time regarded the donkey-man, +and they regarded him narrowly, red sash, earrings, stiletto and all. +Constance caught the look and laughed. + +'Isn't he picturesque?' she inquired in Italian. 'The head-waiter at the +Hotel du Lac found him for me. He has been in the United States and +speaks English, which is a great convenience.' + +The two said nothing, but they looked at each other and shrugged. + +The donkeys were requisitioned for the rest of the journey; while Tony +led Miss Hazel's mount, he could watch Constance ahead on Fidilini, an +officer marching at each side of her saddle. She appeared to divide her +favours with nice discrimination; it was not her fault if the two were +jealous of one another. Tony could draw from that obvious fact what +consolation there was in it. + +The ruined fortress, their destination, was now exactly above their +heads. The last ascent boldly skirted the shoulder of the mountain, and +then doubled upward in a series of serpentine coils. Below them the +whole of Lake Garda was spread like a map. Mr. Wilder and the Englishman, +having paused at the edge of the declivity, were endeavouring to trace +the boundary line of Austria, and they called upon the officers for help. +The two relinquished their post at Constance's side, while the donkeys +kept on past them up the hill. The winding path was both stony and steep, +and, from a donkey's standpoint, thoroughly objectionable. Fidilini was +well in the lead, trotting sedately, when suddenly, without the slightest +warning, he chose to revolt. Whether Constance pulled the wrong rein, or +whether, as she affirmed, it was merely his natural badness, in any case, +he suddenly veered from the path and took a cross cut down the rocky +slope below them. Donkeys are fortunately sure-footed beasts; otherwise +the two would have plunged together down the sheer face of the mountain. +As it was it looked ghastly enough to the four men below; they shouted to +Constance to stick on, and commenced scrambling up the slope with +absolutely no hope of reaching her. + +It was Tony's chance a second time to show his agility--and this time to +some purpose. He was a dozen yards behind and much lower down, which gave +him a start. Leaping forward, he dropped over the precipice, a fall of +ten feet, to a narrow ledge below. Running toward them at an angle, he +succeeded in cutting off their flight. Before the frightened donkey could +swerve, Tony had seized him--by the tail--and had braced himself against +a boulder. It was not a dignified rescue, but at least it was effective; +Fidilini came to a halt. Constance, not expecting the sudden jolt, +toppled over sidewise, and Tony, being equally unprepared to receive her, +the two went down together rolling over and over on the grassy slope. + +'My dear, are you hurt?' + +Mr. Wilder, quite pale with anxiety, came scrambling to her side. +Constance sat up and laughed hysterically, while she examined a bleeding +elbow. + +'N--no, not dangerously--but I think perhaps Tony is.' + +Tony however was at least able to run, as he was again on his feet and +after the donkey. Captain Coroloni and her father helped Constance to her +feet while Lieutenant di Ferara recovered a side-comb and the white sun +hat. They all climbed down together to the path below, none the worse for +the averted tragedy. Tony rejoined them somewhat short of breath, but +leading a humbled Fidilini. Constance, beyond a brief glance, said +nothing; but her father, to the poor man's intense embarrassment, shook +him warmly by the hand with the repeated assurance that his bravery +should not go unrewarded. + +They completed their journey on foot; Tony following behind, quite +conscious that, if he had played the part of hero, he had done it with a +lamentable lack of grace. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Tony was stretched on the parapet that bordered the stone-paved platform +of the fortress. Above him the crumbling tower rose many feet higher, +below him a marvellous view stretched invitingly; but Tony had eyes +neither for medięval architecture nor picturesque scenery. He lay with +his coat doubled under his head for a pillow, in a frowning contemplation +of the cracked stone pavement. + +The four other men, after an hour or so of easy lounging under the pines +at the base of the tower, had organized a fresh expedition to the summit +a mile farther up. Mr. Wilder, since morning, had developed into an +enthusiastic mountain-climber--regret might come with the morrow, but as +yet ambition still burned high. The remainder of the party were less +energetic. The three ladies were resting on rugs spread under the pines; +Beppo was sleeping in the sun, his hat over his face, and the donkeys, +securely tethered (Tony had attended to that), were innocently nibbling +mountain herbs. There was no obvious reason why, as he lighted a +cigarette and stretched himself on the parapet, Tony should not have +been the most self-satisfied guide in the world. He had not only +completed the expedition in safety, but had saved the heroine's life by +the way; and even if the heroine did not appear as thankful as she might, +still, her father had shown due gratitude, and, what was to the point, +had promised a reward. That should have been enough for any reasonable +donkey driver. + +But it was distinctly not enough for Tony. He was in a fine temper as he +lay on the parapet and scowled at the pavement. Nothing was turning out +as he had planned. He had not counted on the officers or her predilection +for Italian. He had not counted on chasing donkeys in person while she +stood and looked on--Beppo was to have attended to that. He had not +counted on anything quite so absurd as his heroic capture of Fidilini. +Since she must let the donkey run away with her, why, in the name of all +that was romantic, could it not have occurred by moonlight? Why, when he +caught the beast, could it not have been by the bridle instead of the +tail? And above all, why could she not have fallen into his arms, instead +of on top of him? + +The stage scenery was set for romance, but from the moment the curtain +rose the play had persisted in being farce. However, farce or romance, it +was all one to him so long as he could play leading-man; what he +objected to was the minor part. The fact was clear that sash and earrings +could never compete with uniform and sword and the Italian language. His +mind was made up; he would withdraw to-night before he was found out, and +leave Valedolmo to-morrow morning by the early boat. Miss Constance +Wilder should never have the satisfaction of knowing the truth. + +He was engaged in framing a dignified speech to Mr. Wilder--thanking him +for his generosity, but declining to accept a reward for what had been +merely a matter of duty--when his reflections were cut short by the sound +of footsteps on the stairs. They were by no means noiseless footsteps; +there were good strong nails all over the bottom of Constance's shoes. +The next moment she appeared in the doorway. Her eyes were centred on the +view; she looked entirely over Tony. It was not until he rose to his feet +that she realized his presence with a start. + +'Dear me, is that you, Tony? You frightened me! Don't get up; I know you +must be tired.' This with a sweetly solicitous smile. + +Tony smiled too and resumed his seat; it was the first time since morning +that she had condescended to consider his feelings. She sauntered over to +the opposite side and stood with her back to him examining the view. Tony +turned his back and affected to be engaged with the view in the other +direction; he too could play at indifference. + +Constance finished with her view first, and crossing over, she seated +herself in the deep embrasure of a window close beside Tony's parapet. He +rose again at her approach, but there was no eagerness in the motion; it +was merely the necessary deference of a donkey-driver toward his +employer. + +'Oh, sit down,' she insisted, 'I want to talk to you.' + +He opened his eyes with a show of surprise; his hurt feelings insisted +that all the advances should be on her part. Constance seemed in no hurry +to begin; she removed her hat, pushed back her hair, and sat playing with +the bunch of edelweiss which was stuck in among the roses--flattening the +petals, rearranging the flowers with careful fingers; a touch, it seemed +to Tony's suddenly clamouring senses, that was almost a caress. Then she +looked up quickly and caught his gaze. She leaned forward with a laugh. + +'Tony,' she said, 'do you spik any language besides Angleesh?' + +He triumphantly concealed all sign of emotion. + +'_Si_, signorina, I spik my own language.' + +'Would you mind my asking what that language is?' + +He indulged in a moment's deliberation. Italian was clearly out of the +question, and French she doubtless knew better than he--he deplored this +polyglot education girls were receiving nowadays. + +He had it! He would be Hungarian. His sole fellow guest in the hotel at +Verona the week before had been a Hungarian nobleman, who had informed +him that the Magyar language was one of the most difficult on the face of +the globe. There was at least little likelihood that she was acquainted +with that. + +'My own language, signorina, is Magyar.' + +'Magyar?' She was clearly taken by surprise. + +'_Si_, signorina, I am Hungarian; I was born in Budapest.' He met her +wide-opened eyes with a look of innocent candour. + +'Really!' She beamed upon him delightedly; he was playing up even better +than she had hoped. 'But if you are Hungarian, what are you doing here in +Italy, and how does it happen that your name is Antonio?' + +'My movver was Italian. She name me Antonio after ze blessed Saint +Anthony of Padua. If you lose anysing, signorina, and you say a prayer to +Saint Anthony every day for nine days, on ze morning of ze tenth you will +find it again.' + +'That is very interesting,' she said politely. 'How do you come to know +English so well, Tony?' + +'We go live in Amerik' when I li'l boy.' + +'And you never learned Italian? I should think your mother would have +taught it to you.' + +He imitated Beppo's gestures. + +'A word here, a word there. We spik Magyar at home.' + +'Talk a little Magyar, Tony. I should like to hear it.' + +'What shall I say, signorina?' + +'Oh, say anything you please.' + +He affected to hesitate while he rehearsed the scraps of language at his +command. Latin--French--German--none of them any good--but, thank +goodness, he had elected Anglo-Saxon in college; and thank goodness again +the professor had made them learn passages by heart. He glanced up with +an air of flattered diffidence and rendered, in a conversational +inflection, an excerpt from the Anglo-Saxon Bible. + +'_Ealle gesceafta, heofonas and englas, sunnan and monan, steorran and +eorthan, hč gesceop and geworhte on six dagum._' + +'It is a very beautiful language. Say some more.' + +He replied with glib promptness, with a passage from Beowulf-- + +'_Hie dygel lond warigeath, wulfhleothu, windige naessas._' + +'What does that mean?' + +Tony looked embarrassed. + +'I don't believe you know!' + +'It means--_scusi_, signorina, I no like to say.' + +'You don't know.' + +'It means--you make me say, signorina,--"I sink you ver' beautiful like +ze angels in Paradise."' + +'Indeed! A donkey-driver, Tony, should not say anything like that.' + +'But it is true.' + +'The more reason you should not say it.' + +'You asked me, signorina; I could not tell you a lie.' + +The signorina smiled slightly and looked away at the view; Tony seized +the opportunity to look sidewise at her. She turned back and caught him; +he dropped his eyes humbly to the floor. + +'Does Beppo speak Magyar?' she inquired. + +'Beppo?' There was wonder in his tone at the turn her questions were +taking. 'I sink not, signorina.' + +'That must be very inconvenient. Why don't you teach it to him?' + +'_Si_, signorina.' He was plainly nonplussed. + +'Yes, he says that you are his father, and I should think----' + +'His father?' Tony appeared momentarily startled; then he laughed. 'He +did not mean his real father; he mean--how you say--his godfather. I +give to him his name when he get christened.' + +'Oh, I see!' + +Her next question was also a surprise. + +'Tony,' she inquired with startling suddenness, 'why do you wear +earrings?' + +He reddened slightly. + +'Because--because--der's a girl I like ver' much, signorina; she sink +earrings look nice. I wear zem for her.' + +'Oh!--But why do you fasten them on with thread?' + +'Because I no wear zem always. In Italia, yes; in Amerik', no. When I +marry dis girl and go back home, zen I do as I please, now I haf to do as +she please.' + +'H'm----' said Constance, ruminatingly. 'Where does this girl live, +Tony?' + +'In Valedolmo, signorina.' + +'What does she look like?' + +'She look like----' His eyes searched the landscape and came back to her +face. 'Oh, ver' beautiful, signorina. She have hair brown and gold, and +eyes--yes, eyes! Zay are sometimes black, signorina, and sometimes grey. +Her laugh, it sounds like the song of a nightingale.' He clasped his +hands and rolled his eyes in a fine imitation of Gustavo. 'She is +beautiful, signorina, beautiful as ze angels in Paradise!' + +'There seem to be a good many people beautiful as the angels in +Paradise.' + +'She is most beautiful of all.' + +'What is her name?' + +'Costantina.' He said it softly, his eyes on her face. + +'Ah,' Constance rose and turned away with a shrug. Her manner suggested +that he had gone too far. + +'She wash clothes at ze Hotel du Lac,' he called after her. + +Constance paused and glanced over her shoulder with a laugh. + +'Tony,' she said, 'the quality which I admire most in a donkey-driver, +besides truthfulness and picturesqueness, is imagination.' + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +On the homeward journey Tony again trudged behind while the officers held +their post at Constance's side. But Tony's spirits were still singing +from the little encounter on the castle platform, and in spite of the +animated Italian which floated back, he was determined to look at the +sunny side of the adventure. It was Mr. Wilder who unconsciously supplied +him with a second opportunity for conversation. He and the Englishman, +being deep in a discussion involving statistics of the Italian army +budget, called on the two officers to set them straight. Tony, at their +order, took his place beside the saddle; Constance was not to be +abandoned again to Fidilini's caprice. Miss Hazel and the Englishwoman +were ambling on ahead in as matter-of-fact a fashion as if that were +their usual mode of travel. Their donkeys were of a sedater turn of mind +than Fidilini--a fact for which Tony offered thanks. + +They were by this time well over the worst part of the mountain, and the +brief Italian twilight was already fading. Tony, with a sharp eye on the +path ahead and a ready hand for the bridle, was attending strictly to the +duties of a well-trained donkey-man. It was Constance again who opened +the conversation. + +'Ah, Tony?' + +'_Si_, signorina?' + +'Did you ever read any Angleesh books--or do you do most of your reading +in Magyar?' + +'I haf read one, two, Angleesh books.' + +'Did you ever read--er--_The Lightning Conductor_, for example?' + +'No, signorina; I haf never read heem.' + +'I think it would interest you. It's about a man who pretends he's a +chauffeur in order to--to---- There are any number of books with the same +motive; _She Stoops to Conquer_, _Two Gentlemen of Verona_, _Lalla +Rookh_, _Monsieur Beaucaire_--Oh, dozens of them! It's an old plot; it +doesn't require the slightest originality to think of it.' + +'_Si_, signorina? Sank you.' Tony's tone was exactly like Gustavo's when +he has failed to get the point, but feels that a comment is necessary. + +Constance laughed and allowed a silence to follow, while Tony redirected +his attention to Fidilini's movements. His 'Yip! Yip!' was an exact +imitation, though in a deeper guttural, of Beppo's cries before them. It +would have taken a close observer to suspect that he had not been bred to +the calling. + +'You have not always been a donkey-driver?' she inquired after an +interval of amused scrutiny. + +'Not always, signorina.' + +'What did you do in New York?' + +'I play hand-organ, signorina.' + +Tony removed his hand from the bridle and ground 'Yankee Doodle' from an +imaginary instrument. + +'I make musica, signorina, wif--wif--how do you say, monk, monka? His +name Vittorio Emanuele. Ver' nice monk--simpatica affezionata.' + +'You've never been an actor?' + +'An actor? No, signorina.' + +'You should try it; I fancy you might have some talent in that +direction.' + +'_Si_, signorina. Sank you.' + +She let the conversation drop, and Tony, after an interval of silence, +fell to humming Santa Lucia in a very presentable baritone. The tune, +Constance noted, was true enough, but the words were far astray. + +'That's a very pretty song, Tony, but you don't appear to know it.' + +'I no understand Italian, signorina. I just learn ze tune because +Costantina like it.' + +'You do everything that Costantina wishes?' + +'Everysing! But if you could see her you would not wonder. She has hair +brown and gold, and her eyes, signorina, are sometimes grey and sometimes +black, and her laugh sounds like----' + +'Oh, yes, I know; you told me all that before.' + +'When she goes out to work in ze morning, signorina, wif the sunlight +shining on her hair, and a smile on her lips, and a basket of clothes on +her head---- Ah, _zen_ she is beautiful!' + +'When are you going to be married?' + +'I do not know, signorina. I have not asked her yet.' + +'Then how do you know she wishes to marry you?' + +'I do not know; I just hope.' + +He rolled his eyes toward the moon which was rising above the mountains +on the other side of the lake, and with a deep sigh he fell back into +Santa Lucia. + +Constance leaned forward and scanned his face. + +'Tony! Tell me your name.' There was an undertone of meaning, a note of +persuasion in her voice. + +'Antonio, signorina.' + +She shook her head with a show of impatience. + +'Your real name--your last name.' + +'Yamhankeesh.' + +'Oh!' she laughed. 'Antonio Yamhankeesh doesn't seem to me a very musical +combination; I don't think I ever heard anything like it before.' + +'It suits me, signorina.' His tone carried a suggestion of wounded +dignity. 'Yamhankeesh has a ver' beautiful meaning in my language--"He +who dares not, wins not."' + +'And that is your motto?' + +'_Si_, signorina.' + +'A very dangerous motto, Tony; it will some day get you into trouble.' + +They had reached the base of the mountain, and their path now broadened +into the semblance of a road which wound through the fields, between +fragrant hedgerows, under towering chestnut trees. All about them was the +fragrance of the dewy, flower-scented summer night, the flash of +fireflies, the chirp of crickets, occasionally the note of a nightingale. +Before them out of a cluster of cypresses, rose the square graceful +outline of the village campanile. + +Constance looked about with a pleased, contented sigh. + +'Isn't Italy beautiful, Tony?' + +'Yes, signorina, but I like America better.' + +'We have no cypresses and ruins and nightingales in America, Tony. We +have a moon sometimes, but not that moon.' + +They passed from the moonlight into the shade of some overhanging +chestnut trees. Fidilini stumbled suddenly over a break in the path and +Tony pulled him up sharply. His hand on the bridle rested for an instant +over hers. + +'Italy is beautiful--to make love in,' he whispered. + +She drew her hand away abruptly, and they passed out into the moonlight +again. Ahead of them where the road branched into the highway, the others +were waiting for Constance to catch up, the two officers looking back +with an eager air of expectation. Tony glanced ahead and added with a +quick frown-- + +'But perhaps I do not need to tell you that--you may know it already?' + +'You are impertinent, Tony.' + +She pulled the donkey into a trot that left him behind. + +The highway was broad and they proceeded in a group, the conversation +general and in English, Tony quite naturally having no part in it. But at +the corners where the road to the village and the road to the villa +separated, Fidilini obligingly turned stubborn again. His mind bent upon +rest and supper, he insisted upon going to the village; the harder +Constance pulled on the left rein, the more fixed was his determination +to turn to the right. + +'Help! I'm being run away with again,' she called over her shoulder as +the donkey's pace quickened into a trot. + +Tony, awakening to his duty, started in pursuit, while the others +laughingly shouted directions. He did not run as determinedly as he +might, and they had covered considerable ground before he overtook them. +He turned Fidilini's head and they started back--at a walk. + +'Signorina,' said Tony, 'may I ask a question, a little impertinent?' + +'No, certainly not.' + +Silence. + +'Ah, Tony?' she asked presently. + +'_Si_, signorina?' + +'What is it you want to ask?' + +'Are you going to marry that Italian lieutenant--or perhaps the captain?' + +'That _is_ impertinent.' + +'Are you?' + +'You forget yourself, Tony. It is not your place to ask such a question.' + +'_Si_, signorina; it is my place. If it is true I cannot be your +donkey-man any longer.' + +'No, it is not true, but that is no concern of yours.' + +'Are you going on another trip Friday--to Monte Maggiore?' + +'Yes.' + +'May I come with you?' + +His tone implied more than his words. She hesitated a moment, then +shrugged indifferently. + +'Just as you please, Tony. If you don't wish to work for us any more I +dare say we can find another man.' + +'It is as you please, signorina. If you wish it, I come, if you do not +wish it, I go.' + +She made no answer. They joined the others and the party proceeded to the +villa gates. + +Lieutenant di Ferara helped Constance dismount, while Captain Coroloni, +with none too good a grace, held the donkey. A careful observer would +have fancied that the lieutenant was ahead, and that both he and the +captain knew it. Tony untied the bundles, dumped them on the kitchen +floor, and waited respectfully, hat in hand, while Mr. Wilder searched +his pockets for change. He counted out four lire and added a note. Tony +pocketed the lire and returned the note, while Mr. Wilder stared his +astonishment. + +'Good-bye, Tony,' Constance smiled as he turned away. + +'Good-bye, signorina.' There was a note of finality in his voice. + +'Well!' Mr. Wilder ejaculated. 'That is the first----' 'Italian' he +started to say, but he caught the word before it was out--'donkey-driver +I ever saw refuse money.' + +Lieutenant di Ferara raised his shoulders. + +'_Machč_! The fellow is too honest; you do well to watch him.' There was +a world of disgust in his tone. + +Constance glanced after the retreating figure and laughed. + +'Tony!' she called. + +He kept on; she raised her voice. + +'Mr. Yamhankeesh.' + +He paused. + +'You call, signorina?' + +'Be sure and be here by half-past six on Friday morning; we must start +early.' + +'Sank you, signorina. Good night.' + +'Good night, Tony.' + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +The Hotel du Lac may be approached in two ways. The ordinary, obvious +way, which incoming tourists of necessity choose, is by the high road and +the gate. But the romantic way is by water. One sees only the garden +then, and the garden is the distinguished feature of the place; it was +planned long before the hotel was built to adorn a marquis's pleasure +house. There are grottos, arbours, fountains, a winding stream, and, +stretching the length of the water front, a deep cool grove of interlaced +plane trees. At the end of the grove, half a dozen broad stone steps dip +down to a tiny harbour which is carpeted on the surface with lily pads. +The steps are worn by the lapping waves of fifty years, and are grown +over with slippery, slimy water weeds. + +The world was just stirring from its afternoon siesta, when the +_Farfalla_ dropped her yellow sails and floated into the shady little +harbour. Giuseppe prodded and pushed along the fern-grown banks until the +keel jolted against the water-steps. He sprang ashore and steadied the +boat while Constance alighted. She slipped on the mossy step--almost went +under--and righted herself with a laugh that rang gaily through the +grove. + +She came up the steps still smiling, shook out her fluffy pink skirts, +straightened her rose-trimmed hat, and glanced reconnoitringly about the +grove. One might reasonably expect, attacking the hotel as it were from +the flank, to capture unawares any stray guest. But aside from a +chaffinch or so and a brown and white spotted calf tied to a tree, the +grove was empty--blatantly empty. There was a shade of disappointment in +Constance's glance. One naturally does not like to waste one's best +embroidered gown on a spotted calf. + +Then her eye suddenly brightened as it lighted on a vivid splash of +yellow under a tree. She crossed over and picked it up--a paper-covered +French novel; the title was _Bijou_, the author was Gyp. She turned to +the first page. Any reasonably careful person might be expected to write +his name in the front of a book--particularly a French book--before +abandoning it to the mercies of a foreign hotel. But the several +fly-leaves were immaculately innocent of all sign of ownership. + +So intent was she upon this examination, that she did not hear footsteps +approaching down the long arbour that led from the house; so intent was +the young man upon a frowning scrutiny of the path before him, that he +did not see Constance until he had passed from the arbour into the grove. +Then simultaneously they raised their heads and looked at each other. For +a startled second they stared--rather guiltily--both with the air of +having been caught. Constance recovered her poise first; she nodded--a +nod which contained not the slightest hint of recognition--and laughed. + +'Oh!' she said. 'I suppose this is your book? And I am afraid you have +caught me red-handed. You must excuse me for looking at it, but usually +at this season only German Alpine climbers stop at the Hotel du Lac, and +I was surprised, you know, to find that German Alpine climbers did +anything so frivolous as reading Gyp.' + +The man bowed with a gesture which made her free of the book, but he +continued his silence. Constance glanced at him again, and this time she +allowed a flash of recognition to appear in her face. + +'Oh!' she re-exclaimed with a note of interested politeness, 'you are the +young man who stumbled into Villa Rosa last Monday looking for the garden +of the prince?' + +He bowed a second time, an answering flash appearing in his face. + +'And you are the young woman who was sitting on the wall beside a row +of--of----' + +'Stockings?' She nodded. 'I trust you found the prince's garden without +difficulty?' + +'Yes, thank you. Your directions were very explicit.' + +A slight pause followed, the young man waiting deferentially for her to +take the lead. + +'You find Valedolmo interesting?' she inquired. + +'Interesting!' His tone was enthusiastic. 'Aside from the prince's +garden, which contains a cedar of Lebanon and an india-rubber plant from +South America, there is the Luini in the chapel of San Bartolomeo, and +the statue of Garibaldi in the piazza. And then----' he waved his hand +toward the lake, 'there is always the view.' + +'Yes,' she agreed, 'one can always look at the view.' + +Her eyes wandered to the lake, and across the lake to Monte Maggiore with +clouds drifting about its peak. And while she obligingly studied the +mountain, he studied the effect of the pink gown and the rose-bud hat. +She turned back suddenly and caught him; it was a disconcerting habit of +Constance's. He politely looked away, and she--with frank +interest--studied him. He was bareheaded and dressed in white flannels; +they were very becoming, she noted critically, and yet--they needed just +a touch of colour; a red sash, for example, and earrings. + +'The guests of the Hotel du Lac,' she remarked, 'have a beautiful garden +of their own. Just the mere pleasure of strolling about in it ought to +keep them contented with Valedolmo.' + +'Not necessarily,' he objected. 'Think of the Garden of Eden--the most +beautiful garden there has ever been, if report speaks true--and yet the +mere pleasure of strolling about didn't keep Adam contented. One gets +lonely, you know.' + +'Are you the only guest?' + +'Oh, no, there are four of us, but we're not very companionable; there's +such a discrepancy in languages.' + +'And you don't speak Italian?' + +He shook his head. + +'Only English and'--he glanced at the book in her hand--'French +indifferently well.' + +'I saw some one the other day who spoke Magyar--that is a beautiful +language.' + +'Yes?' he returned with polite indifference. 'I don't remember ever to +have heard it.' + +She laughed and glanced about. Her eyes lighted on the arbour hung with +grape-vines and wistaria, where, far at the other end, Gustavo's figure +was visible lounging in the yellow stucco doorway. The sight appeared to +recall an errand to her mind. She glanced down at a pink wicker-basket +which hung on her arm, and gathered up her skirts with a movement of +departure. + +The young man hastily picked up the conversation. + +'It _is_ a jolly old garden,' he affirmed. 'And there's something +pathetic about its appearing on souvenir post cards as a mere adjunct to +a blue and yellow hotel.' + +She nodded sympathetically. + +'Built for romance and abandoned to tourists--German tourists at that!' + +'Oh, not entirely--we've a Russian countess just now.' + +'A Russian countess?' Constance turned toward him with an air of +reawakened interest. 'Is she as young and beautiful and fascinating and +wicked as they always are in novels?' + +'Oh, dear no! Seventy, if she's a day. A nice grandmotherly old soul who +smokes cigarettes.' + +'Ah!' Constance smiled; there was even a trace of relief in her manner as +she nodded to the young man and turned away. His face reflected his +disappointment; he plainly wished to detain her, but could think of no +expedient. The spotted calf came to his rescue. The calf had been +watching them from the first, very much interested in the visitor; and +now, as she approached his tree, he stretched out his neck as far as the +tether permitted and sniffed insistently. She paused and patted him on +the head. The calf acknowledged the caress with a grateful _moo_; there +was a plaintive light in his liquid eyes. + +'Poor thing--he's lonely!' She turned to the young man and spoke with an +accent of reproach. 'The four guests of the Hotel du Lac don't show him +enough attention.' + +The young man shrugged. + +'We're tired of calves. It's only a matter of a day or so before he'll be +breaded and fried and served Milanese fashion with a sauce of tomato and +garlic.' + +Constance shook her head sympathetically; though whether her sympathy was +for the calf or the partakers of table d'hōte was not quite clear. + +'I know,' she agreed. 'I've been a guest at the Hotel du Lac myself--it's +a tragedy to be born a calf in Italy!' + +She nodded and turned; it was evident this time that she was really +going. He took a hasty step forward. + +'Oh, I say, please don't go! Stay and talk to me--just a little while. +That calf isn't half so lonely as I am.' + +'I should like to, but really I mustn't. Elizabetta is waiting for me to +bring her some eggs. We are planning a trip up the Maggiore to-morrow, +and we have to have a cake to take with us. Elizabetta made one this +morning, but she forgot to put in the baking powder. Italian cooks are +not used to making cakes; they are much better at'--her eyes fell on the +calf--'veal and such things.' + +He folded his arms with an air of desperation. + +'I'm an American--one of your own countrymen; if you had a grain of +charity in your nature you would let the cake go.' + +She shook her head relentlessly. + +'Five days at Valedolmo! You would not believe the straits I've been +driven to in search of amusement.' + +'Yes?' There was a touch of curiosity in her tone. 'What for example?' + +'I am teaching Gustavo how to play tennis.' + +'Oh!' she said. 'How does he do?' + +'Broken three windows and a flower-pot and lost four balls.' + +She laughed and turned away; and then as an idea occurred to her, she +turned back and fixed her eyes sympathetically on his face. + +'I suppose Valedolmo is stupid for a man; but why don't you try +mountain-climbing? Everybody finds that diverting. There's a guide here +who speaks English--really comprehensible English. He's engaged for +to-morrow, but after that I dare say he'll be free. Gustavo can tell you +about him.' + +She nodded and smiled and turned down the arbour. + +The young man stood where she left him, with folded arms, watching her +pink gown as it receded down the long sun-flecked alley hung with purple +and green. He waited until it had been swallowed up in the yellow +doorway; then he fetched a deep breath and strolled to the water-wall. +After a few moments' prophetic contemplation of the mountain across the +lake, he threw back his head with a quick amused laugh, and got out a +cigarette and lighted it. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +As Constance emerged at the other end of the arbour, Gustavo, who had +been nodding on the bench beside the door, sprang to his feet, +consternation in his attitude. + +'Signorina!' he stammered. 'You come from ze garden?' + +She nodded in her usual off-hand manner and handed him the basket. + +'Eggs, Gustavo--two dozen if you can spare them. I am sorry always to be +wanting so many, but'--she sighed--'eggs are so breakable!' + +Gustavo rolled his eyes to heaven in silent thanksgiving. She had not, it +was evident, run across the American, and the cat was still safely in the +bag; but how much longer it could be kept there the saints alone knew. He +was feeling--very properly--guilty in regard to this latest escapade; but +what can a defenceless waiter do in the hands of an impetuous young +American whose pockets are stuffed with silver lire and five-franc notes? + +'Two dozen? Certainly, signorina. _Subitissimo_!' He took the basket and +hurried to the kitchen. + +Constance occupied the interval with the polyglot parrot of the +courtyard. The parrot, since she had last conversed with him, had +acquired several new expressions in the English tongue. As Gustavo +reappeared with the eggs, she confronted him sternly. + +'Have you been teaching this bird English? I am surprised!' + +'No, signorina. It was--it was----' Gustavo mopped his brow. 'He jus' +pick it up.' + +'I'm sorry that the Hotel du Lac has _guests_ that use such language; +it's very shocking.' + +'_Si_, signorina.' + +'By the way, Gustavo, how does it happen that that young American man +who left last week is still here?' + +Gustavo nearly dropped the eggs. + +'I just saw him in the garden with a book--I am sure it was the same +young man. What is he doing all this time in Valedolmo?' + +Gustavo's eyes roved wildly until they lighted on the tennis-court. + +'He--he stay, signorina, to play lawn-tennis wif me, but he go +to-morrow.' + +'Oh, he is going to-morrow?--What's his name, Gustavo?' + +She put the question indifferently while she stooped to pet a +tortoise-shell cat that was curled asleep on the bench. + +'His name?' Gustavo's face cleared. 'I get ze raygeester; you read heem +yourself.' + +He darted into the bureau and returned with a black book. + +'_Ecco_, signorina!' spreading it on the table before her. + +His alacrity should have aroused her suspicions; but she was too intent +on the matter in hand. She turned the pages and paused at the week's +entries; Rudolph Ziegelmann und Frau, Berlin; and just beneath, in bold +black letters that stretched from margin to margin, Abraham Lincoln, +U.S.A. + +Gustavo hovered above, anxiously watching her face; he had been told that +this would make everything right, that Abraham Lincoln was an +exceedingly respectable name. Constance's expression did not change. She +looked at the writing for fully three minutes, then she opened her purse +and looked inside. She laid the money for the eggs in a pile on the +table, and took out an extra lira which she held in her hand. + +'Gustavo,' she asked, 'do you think that you _could_ tell me the truth?' + +'Signorina!' he said reproachfully. + +'How did that name get there?' + +'He write it heemself!' + +'Yes, I dare say he did--but it doesn't happen to be his name. Oh, I'm +not blind; I can see plainly enough that he has scratched out his own +name underneath.' + +Gustavo leaned forward and affected to examine the page. 'It was a li'l' +blot, signorina; he scratch heem out.' + +'Gustavo!' Her tone was despairing. 'Are you incapable of telling the +truth? That young man's name is no more Abraham Lincoln than Victor +Emmanuel II. When did he write that, and why?' + +Gustavo's eyes were on the lira; he broke down and told the truth. + +'Yesterday night, signorina. He say, "Ze next time zat Signorina +Americana who is beautiful as ze angels come to zis hotel she look in ze +raygeester, an' I haf it feex ready."' + +'Oh, he said that, did he?' + +'_Si_, signorina.' + +'And his real name that comes on his letters?' + +'Jayreem Ailyar, signorina.' + +'Say it again, Gustavo.' She cocked her head. + +He gathered himself together for a supreme effort. He rolled his r's; he +shouted until the courtyard reverberated. + +'Meestair-r Jay-r-reem Ailyar-r!' + +Constance shook her head. + +'Sounds like Hungarian--at least the way you pronounce it. But anyway +it's of no consequence; I merely asked out of idle curiosity. And +Gustavo'--she still held the lira--'if he asks you if I looked in this +register, what are you going to say?' + +'I say, "No, Meestair Ailyar, she stay all ze time in ze courtyard +talking wif ze parrot, and she was ver' moch shocked at his Angleesh."' + +'Ah!' Constance smiled and laid the lira on the table. 'Gustavo,' she +said, 'I hope, for the sake of your immortal soul, that you go often to +confession.' + +The eggs were not heavy, but Gustavo insisted upon carrying them; he was +determined to see her safely aboard the _Farfalla_, with no further +accidents possible. That she had not identified the young man of the +garden with the donkey-driver of yesterday was clear--though how such +blindness was possible, was not clear. Probably she had only caught a +glimpse of his back at a distance; in any case he thanked a merciful +Providence and decided to risk no further chance. As they neared the end +of the arbour, Gustavo was talking--shouting fairly; their approach was +heralded. + +They turned into the grove. To Gustavo's horror the most conspicuous +object in it was this same reckless young man, seated on the water-wall +nonchalantly smoking a cigarette. The young man rose and bowed; Constance +nodded carelessly, while Gustavo behind her back made frantic signs for +him to flee, to escape while still there was time. The young man +telegraphed back by the same sign language that there was no danger; she +didn't suspect the truth. And to Gustavo's amazement, he fell in beside +them and strolled over to the water-steps. His recklessness was catching; +Gustavo suddenly determined upon a bold stroke himself. + +'Signorina,' he asked, 'zat man I send, zat donk'-driver--you like heem?' + +'Tony?' Her manner was indifferent. 'Oh, he does well enough; he seems +honest and truthful, though a little stupid.' + +Gustavo and the young man exchanged glances. + +'And, Gustavo,' she turned to him with a sweetly serious air that +admitted no manner of doubt but that she was in earnest. 'I told this +young man that in case he cared to do any mountain climbing, you would +find him the same guide. It would be very useful for him to have one who +speaks English.' + +Gustavo bowed in mute acquiescence. He could find no adequate words for +the situation. + +The boat drew alongside and Constance stepped in, but she did not sit +down. Her attention was attracted by two washer-women who had come +clattering on to the little rustic bridge that spanned the stream above +the water-steps. The women, their baskets of linen on their heads, had +paused to watch the embarkation. + +'Ah, Gustavo,' Constance asked over her shoulder, 'is there a +washer-woman here at the Hotel du Lac named Costantina?' + +'_Si_, signorina, zat is Costantina standing on ze bridge wif ze yellow +handkerchief on her head.' + +Constance looked at Costantina, and nodded and smiled. Then she laughed +out loud, a beautiful rippling, joyous laugh that rang through the grove +and silenced the chaffinches. + +Perhaps once upon a time Costantina was beautiful--beautiful as the +angels--but if so, it was long, long ago. Now she was old and fat, with a +hawk nose and a double chin and one tooth left in the middle of the +front. But if she were not beautiful, she was at least a cheerful old +soul, and, though she could not possibly know the reason, she echoed the +signorina's laugh until she nearly shook the clean clothes into the +water. + +Constance settled herself among the cushions and glanced back toward the +terrace. + +'Good afternoon,' she nodded politely to the young man. + +He bowed with his hand on his heart. + +'_Addio_, Gustavo.' + +He bowed until his napkin swept the ground. + +'_Addio_, Costantina,' she waved her hand toward her namesake. + +The washer-woman laughed again, and her earrings flashed in the sunlight. + +Giuseppe raised the yellow sail; they caught the breeze, and the +_Farfalla_ floated away. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Half-past six on Friday morning, and Constance appeared on the terrace; +Constance in fluffy, billowy, lacy white with a spray of oleander in her +belt--the last costume in the world in which one would start on a +mountain climb. She cast a glance in passing toward the gateway and the +stretch of road visible beyond, but both were empty, and seating herself +on the parapet, she turned her attention to the lake. The breeze that +blew from the farther shore brought fresh Alpine odours of flowers and +pine trees. Constance sniffed it eagerly as she gazed across toward the +purple outline of Monte Maggiore. The serenity of her smile gradually +gave place to doubt; she turned and glanced back toward the house, +visibly changing her mind. + +But before the change was finished, the quiet of the morning was broken +by a clatter of tiny scrambling obstinate hoofs and a series of +ejaculations, both Latin and English. She glanced toward the gate, where +Fidilini was visible, plainly determined not to come in. Constance +laughed expectantly and turned back to the water, her eyes intent on the +fishing-smacks that were putting out from the little _marino_. The sounds +of coercion increased; a command floated down the driveway in the English +tongue. It sounded like: 'You twist his tail, Beppo, while I pull.' + +Apparently it was understood in spite of Beppo's slight knowledge of the +language. An eloquent silence followed; then an outraged grunt on the +part of Fidilini, and the cavalcade advanced with a rush to the kitchen +door. Tony left Beppo and the donkeys, and crossed the terrace alone. His +bow swept the ground in the deferential manner of Gustavo, but his glance +was far bolder than a donkey-driver's should have been. She noted the +fact and tossed him a nod of marked condescension. A silence followed, +during which Constance studied the lake; when she turned back, she found +Tony arranging a spray of oleander that had dropped from her belt in the +band of his hat. She viewed this performance in silent disfavour. Having +finished to his satisfaction, he tossed the hat aside and seated himself +on the balustrade. Her frown became visible. Tony sprang to his feet with +an air of anxiety. + +'_Scusi_, signorina. I have not meant to be presumptious. Perhaps it is +not fitting that any one below the rank of lieutenant should sit in your +presence?' + +'It will not be very long, Tony, before you are discharged for +impertinence.' + +'Ah, signorina, do not say that! If it is your wish I will kneel when I +address you. My family, signorina, are poor; they need the four francs +which you so munificently pay.' + +'You told me that you were an orphan; that you had no family.' + +'I mean the family which I hope to have. Costantina has extravagant +tastes, and coral earrings cost two-fifty a pair.' + +Constance laughed and assumed a more lenient air. She made a slight +gesture which might be interpreted as an invitation to sit down; and Tony +accepted it. + +'By the way, Tony, how do you talk to Costantina, since she speaks no +English and you no Italian?' + +'We have no need of either Italian or English; the language of love, +signorina, is universal.' + +'Oh!' she laughed again. 'I was at the Hotel du Lac yesterday; I saw +Costantina.' + +'You saw Costantina!--Ah, signorina, is she not beautiful? Ze mos' +beautiful in all ze world? But ver' unkind, signorina. Yes, she laugh at +me; she smile at ozzer men, at soldiers wif uniforms.' He sighed +profoundly. 'But I love her just ze same, always from ze first moment I +see her. It was wash-day, signorina, by ze lac. I climb over ze wall and +talk wif her, but she make fun of me--ver' unkind. I go away ver' sad. No +use, I say, she like dose soldiers best. But I see her again; I hear her +laugh--it sound like angels singing--I say, no, I can not go away; I stay +here and make her love me. Yes, I do everysing she ask--but everysing! I +wear earrings; I make myself into a fool just to please zat Costantina.' + +He leaned forward and looked into her eyes. A slow red flush crept over +Constance's face, and she turned her head away and looked across the +water. + +Mr. Wilder, in full Alpine regalia, stepped out upon the terrace and +viewed the beauty of the morning with a prophetic eye. Miss Hazel +followed in his wake; she wore a lavender dimity. And suddenly it +occurred to Tony's slow moving masculine perception that neither +lavender dimity nor white muslin were fabrics fit for mountain climbing. + +Constance slipped down from her parapet and hurried to meet them. + +'Good morning, Aunt Hazel. Morning, Dad! You look beautiful! There's +nothing so becoming to a man as knickerbockers--especially if he's a +little stout.--You're late,' she added with a touch of severity. +'Breakfast has been waiting half an hour and Tony fifteen minutes.' + +She turned back toward the donkey-man, who was standing, hat in hand, +respectfully waiting orders. 'Oh, Tony, I forgot to tell you; we shall +not need Beppo and the donkeys to-day. You and my father are going +alone.' + +'You no want to climb Monte Maggiore--ver' beautiful mountain.' There was +disappointment, reproach, rebellion in his tone. + +'We have made inquiries and my aunt thinks it too long a trip. Without +the donkeys you can cross by boat, and that cuts off three miles.' + +'As you please, signorina.' He turned away. + +Constance looked after him with a shade of remorse. When this plan of +sending her father and Tony alone had occurred to her as she sailed +homeward yesterday from the Hotel du Lac, it had seemed a humorous and +fitting retribution. The young man had been just a trifle too sure of +her interest; the episode of the hotel register must not go unpunished. +But--it was a beautiful morning, a long empty day stretched before her, +and Monte Maggiore looked alluring; there was no pursuit, for the moment, +which she enjoyed as much as donkey-riding. Oh yes, she was spiting +herself as well as Tony; but considering the circumstances the sacrifice +seemed necessary. + +When the _Farfalla_ drifted up ready to take the mountain-climbers, Miss +Hazel suggested (Constance possessed to a large degree the diplomatic +faculty of making other people propose what she herself had decided on) +that she and her niece cross with them. Tony was sulky, and Constance +could not forgo the pleasure of baiting him further. + +They put in at the village, on their way, for the morning mail; Mr. +Wilder wished his paper, even at the risk of not beginning the ascent +before the sun was high. Giuseppe brought back from the post, among other +matters, a letter for Constance. The address was in a dashing, angular +hand that pretty thoroughly covered the envelope. Had she not been so +intent on the writing herself, she would have noted Tony's astonished +stare as he passed it to her. + +'Why!' she exclaimed, 'here's a letter from Nannie Hilliard, postmarked +Lucerne.' + +'Lucerne!' Miss Hazel echoed her surprise. 'I thought they were to be in +England for the summer?' + +'They were--the last I heard.' Constance ripped the letter open and read +it aloud. + + 'DEAR CONSTANCE: You'll doubtless be surprised to hear from us in + Switzerland instead of in England, and to learn further, that in + the course of a week, we shall arrive at Valedolmo _en route_ for + the Dolomites. Jerry Junior at the last moment decided to come with + us, and you know what a _man_ is when it comes to European travel. + Instead of taking two months comfortably to England, as Aunt Kate + and I had planned, we did the whole of the British Isles in ten + days, and Holland and France at the same breathless rate. + + 'Jerry says he holds the record for the Louvre; he struck a + six-mile pace at the entrance, and by looking neither to the right + nor the left he did the whole building in forty-three minutes. + + 'You can imagine the exhausted state Aunt Kate and I are in after + travelling five weeks with him. We simply struck in Switzerland and + sent him on to Italy alone. I had hoped he would meet us in + Valedolmo, but we have been detained here longer than we expected, + and now he's rushed off again--where to, goodness only knows; we + don't. + + 'Anyway, Aunt Kate and I shall land in Valedolmo about the end of + the week. I am dying to see you; I have some beautiful news that's + too complicated to write. We've engaged rooms at the Hotel du + Lac--I hope it's decent; it's the only place starred in Baedeker. + + 'Aunt Kate wishes to be remembered to your father and Miss Hazel. + + 'Yours ever, + 'NAN HILLIARD. + + 'P.S.--I'm awfully sorry not to bring Jerry; I know you'd adore + him.' + +She returned the letter to its envelope and looked up. + +'Now isn't that abominable?' she demanded. + +'Abominable!' Miss Hazel was scandalized. 'My dear, I think it's +delightful.' + +'Oh, yes--I mean about Jerry Junior; I've been trying for six years to +get hold of that man.' + +Tony behind them made a sudden movement that let out nearly a yard of +rope, and the _Farfalla_ listed heavily to starboard. + +'Tony!' Constance threw over her shoulder. 'Don't you know enough to sit +still when you are holding the sheet?' + +'_Scusi_,' he murmured. The sulky look had vanished from his face; he +wore an expression of alert attention. + +'Of course we shall have them at the villa,' said Miss Hazel. 'And we +shall have to get some new dishes. Elizabetta has already broken so many +plates that she has to stop and wash them between courses.' + +Constance looked dreamily across the lake; she appeared to be thinking. +'I wonder,' she inquired finally, 'if Jerry Junior knew we were here in +Valedolmo?' + +Her father emerged from the columns of his paper. + +'Of course he knew it, and having heard what a dangerous young person you +were, he said to himself, "I'd better keep out."' + +'I wish I knew. It would make the score against him considerably +heavier.' + +'So there is already a score? I hadn't supposed that the game had begun.' + +She nodded. + +'Six years ago--but he doesn't know it. Yes, Dad,' her tone was +melodramatic, 'for six years I've been waiting for Jerry Junior and +planning my revenge. And now, when I have him almost in my grasp, he +eludes me again!' + +'Dear me!' Mr. Wilder ejaculated. 'What did the young man do?' + +Had Constance turned she would have found Tony's face an interesting +study. But she knew well enough without looking at him that he was +listening to the conversation, and she determined to give him something +to listen to. It was a salutary thing for Tony to be kept in mind of the +fact that there were other men in the world. + +She sighed. + +'He was the first man I ever loved, father, and he spurned me. Do you +remember that Christmas when I was in boarding-school and you were called +South on business? I wanted to visit Nancy Long, but you wouldn't let me +because you didn't like her father; and you got Mrs. Jerymn Hilliard whom +I had never set eyes on to invite me there? I didn't want to go, and you +said I must, and was perfectly horrid about it?--you remember that?' + +Mr. Wilder grunted. + +'Yes, I see you do. And you remember how, with my usual sweetness, I +finally gave way? Well, Dad, you never knew the reason. The Yale Glee +Club came to Westfield that year just before the holidays began, and Miss +Jane let everybody go to the concert whose deportment had been above +eighty--that of course included me. + +'Well, we all went, and we all fell in love--in a body--with a sophomore +who played the banjo and sang negro songs. He had lovely dark +gazelle-like eyes, and he sang funny songs without smiling. The whole +school raved about him all the way home; we cut his picture out of the +programme and pasted in the front of our watches. His name, father'--she +paused dramatically--'was Jerymn Hilliard Junior!' + +'I sat up half the night writing diplomatic letters to you and Mrs. +Hilliard; and the next day when it got around that I was actually going +to visit in his house--well, I was the most popular girl in school. I was +sixteen years old then; I wore sailor suits and my hair was braided down +my back. Probably I did look young; and then Nannie, whom I was +supposedly visiting, was only fifteen. There were a lot of cousins in the +house besides all the little Hilliards, and what do you think? They made +the children eat in the school-room! I never saw him until Christmas +night; then when we were introduced, he shook my hand in a listless sort +of way, said "How d'y' do?" and forgot all about me. He went off with the +Glee Club the next day, and I only saw him once more. + +'We were playing blind man's buff in the school-room; I had just been +caught by the hair. It hurt and I was squealing. Everybody else was +clapping and laughing, when suddenly the door burst open and there stood +Jerry Junior! He looked straight at me and growled---- + +'"What are you kids making such an infernal racket about?"' + +She shut her eyes. + +'Aunt Hazel, Dad, just think. He was my first love. His picture was at +that moment in a locket around my neck. And he called me a _kid_!' + +'And you've never seen him since?' Miss Hazel's smile expressed amused +indulgence. + +Constance shook her head. + +'He's always been away when I've visited Nan--and for six years I've been +waiting.' She straightened up with an air of determination. 'But now, if +he's on the continent of Europe, I'll get him!' + +'And what shall you do with him?' her father mildly inquired. + +'Do with him? I'll make him take it back; I'll make him eat that word +kid!' + +'H'm!' said her father. 'I hope you'll get him; he might act as an +antidote to some of these officers.' + +They had run in under the shadow of the mountain and the keel grated on +the shore. Constance raised her eyes and studied the towering crag above +their heads; when she lowered them again, her gaze for an instant met +Tony's. There was a new light in his eyes--amusement, triumph, something +entirely baffling. He gave her the intangible feeling of having at last +got the mastery of the situation. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +The sun was setting behind Monte Maggiore, the fishing smacks were coming +home, Luigi had long since carried the tea things into the house; but +still the two callers lingered on the terrace of Villa Rosa. It was +Lieutenant di Ferara's place to go first since he had come first, and +Captain Coroloni doggedly held his post until such time as his junior +officer should see fit to take himself off. The captain knew, as well as +every one else at the officers' mess, that in the end the lieutenant +would be the favoured man; for he was a son of Count Guido di Ferara, of +Turin, and titles are at a premium in the American market. But still the +marriage contract was not signed yet, and the fact remained that the +captain had come last; accordingly he waited. + +They had been there fully two hours, and poor Miss Hazel was worn with +the strain. She sat nervously on the edge of her chair, and leaned +forward with clasped hands listening intently. It required very keen +attention to keep the run of either the captain's or the lieutenant's +English. A few days before she had laughed at what seemed to be a funny +story, and had later learned that it was an announcement of the death of +the lieutenant's grandmother. To-day she confined her answers to +inarticulate murmurs which might be interpreted as either assents or +negations as the case required. + +Constance, however, was buoyantly at her ease; she loved nothing better +than the excitement of a difficult situation. As she bridged over pauses, +and unobtrusively translated from the officer's English into real +English, she at the same time kept a watchful eye on the water. She had +her own reasons for wishing to detain the callers until her father's +return. + +Presently she saw, across the lake, a yellow sailboat float out from the +shadow of Monte Maggiore and head in a long tack toward Villa Rosa. With +this she gave up the task of keeping the conversation general; and +abandoning Captain Coroloni to her aunt, she strolled over to the terrace +parapet with Lieutenant di Ferara at her side. The picture they made was +a charming colour scheme. Constance wore white, the lieutenant pale blue; +an oleander tree beside them showed a cloud of pink blossoms, while +behind them for a background appeared the rose of the villa wall and the +deep green of cypresses against a sunset sky. The picture was +particularly effective as seen from the point of view of an approaching +boat. + +Constance broke off a spray of oleander, and while she listened to the +lieutenant's recountal of a practice march, she picked up his hat from +the balustrade and idly arranged the flowers in the vizor. He bent toward +her and said something; she responded with a laugh. They were both too +occupied to notice that the boat had floated close in shore, until the +flap of the falling sail announced its presence. Constance glanced up +with a start. She caught her father's eye fixed anxiously upon her; +whatever Gustavo and the officers' mess of the tenth cavalry might think, +he had not the slightest wish in the world to see his daughter the +Contessa di Ferara. Tony's face also wore an expression; he was sober, +disgusted, disdainful; there was a glint of anger and determination in +his eye. Constance hurried to the water-steps to greet her father. Of +Tony she took no manner of notice; if a man elects to be a donkey-driver, +he must swallow the insults that go with the part. + +The officers, observing that Luigi was hovering about the doorway waiting +to announce dinner, waived the question of precedence and made their +adieus. While Mr. Wilder and Miss Hazel were intent on the captain's +laboured farewell speech, the lieutenant crossed to Constance, who still +stood at the head of the water-steps. He murmured something in Italian as +he bowed over her hand and raised it to his lips. Constance blushed very +becomingly as she drew her hand away; she was aware, if the officer was +not, that Tony was standing beside them looking on. But as he raised his +eyes, he too became aware of it; the man's expression was more than +impertinent. The lieutenant stepped to his side and said something low +and rapid, something which should have made a right-minded donkey-driver +touch his hat and slink off. But Tony held his ground with a laugh which +was more impertinent than the stare had been. The lieutenant's face +flushed angrily, and his hand half instinctively went to his sword. +Constance stepped forward. + +'Tony! I shall have no further need of your services. You may go.' + +Tony suddenly came to his senses. + +'I--beg your pardon, Miss Wilder,' he stammered. + +'I shall not want you again; please go.' She turned her back and joined +the others. + +The two officers with final salutes took themselves off. Miss Hazel +hurried indoors to make ready for dinner; Mr. Wilder followed in her +wake, muttering something about finding the change to pay Tony. Constance +stood where they left her, staring at the pavement with hotly burning +cheeks. + +'Miss Wilder!' Tony crossed to her side; his manner was humble--actually +humble--the usual mocking undertone in his voice was missing. 'Really I'm +awfully sorry to have caused you annoyance; it was unpardonable.' + +Constance turned toward him. + +'Yes, Tony, I think it was. Your position does not give you the right to +insult my guests.' + +Tony stiffened slightly. + +'I acknowledge that I insulted him, and I'm sorry. But he insulted me, +for the matter of that. I didn't like the way he looked at me, any more +than he liked the way I looked at him.' + +'There is a certain deference, Tony, which an officer in the Royal +Italian Army has a right to expect from a donkey-driver.' + +Tony shrugged. + +'It is a difficult position to hold, Miss Wilder. A donkey-driver, I +find, plays the same accommodating rōle as the family watch-dog. You pat +him when you choose; you kick him when you choose; and he is supposed to +swallow both attentions with equal grace.' + +'You should have chosen another profession.' + +'Naturally, I was not flattered to find that your real reason for staying +at home to-day, was that you were expecting more entertaining callers.' + +'Is there any use in discussing it further? I am not going to climb any +more mountains, and I shall not, as I told you, need a donkey-man again.' + +'Then I'm discharged?' + +'If you wish to put it so. You must see for yourself that the play has +gone far enough. However, it has been amusing, and we will at least part +friends.' + +She held out her hand; it was a mark of definite dismissal rather than a +token of friendly forgiveness. + +Tony bowed over her hand in perfect mimicry of the lieutenant's manner. +'Signorina, _addio_!' He gravely raised it to his lips. + +She snatched her hand away quickly and without glancing at him turned +toward the house. He let her cross half the terrace, then he called +softly-- + +'Signorina!' + +She kept on without pausing. He took a quick step after. + +'Signorina, a moment!' + +She half turned. + +'Well?' + +'I beg of you--one little favour. There are two American ladies expected +at the Hotel du Lac and I thought--perhaps--would you mind writing me a +letter of recommendation?' + +Constance turned back without a word and walked into the house. + +Mr. Wilder's conversation at dinner that night was of the day's excursion +and Tony. He was elated, enthusiastic, glowing. Mountain-climbing was the +most interesting pursuit in the world; he would begin to-morrow and +exhaust the Alps. And as for Tony--his intelligence, his discretion, his +cleverness--there never had been such a guide. Constance listened +silently, her eyes on her plate. At another time it might have occurred +to her that her father's enthusiasm was excessive, but to-night she was +occupied with her thoughts, and she had no reason in the world to +suspect him of guile. She decided, however, to postpone the announcement +of Tony's dismissal; to-morrow mountain-climbing might look less +alluring. + +Dinner over, Mr. Wilder, with a tired if satisfied sigh, dropped into a +chair to finish his reading of the London _Times_. He no longer skimmed +his paper lightly as in the days when papers were to be had hot at any +hour. He read it carefully, painstakingly, from the first advertisement +to the last obituary; and he laid it down in the end with a disappointed +sigh that there were not more residential properties for hire, that the +day's death list was so meagre. + +Miss Hazel settled herself to her knitting. She was making a rainbow +shawl of seven colours and an intricate pattern, and she had to count her +stitches; conversation was impossible. Constance, vaguely restless, +picked up a book and laid it down, and finally sauntered out to the +terrace with no thought in the world but to see the moon rise over the +mountains. + +As she approached the parapet she became aware that some one was lounging +on the water-steps smoking a cigarette. The smoker rose politely but +ventured no remark. + +'Is that you, Giuseppe?' she asked in Italian. + +'No, signorina. It is I--Tony. I am waiting for orders.' + +'For orders!' There was astonishment as well as indignation in her tone. +'I thought I made it clear----' + +'That I was discharged? Yes, signorina. But I have been so fortunate as +to find another place. The Signor Papa has engage me. I go wif him; we +climb all ze mountain around.' He waved his hand largely to comprise the +whole landscape. 'I sink perhaps it is better so--for the Signor Papa and +me to go alone. Mountain-climbing is too hard; zere is too much fatigue, +signorina, for you.' + +He bowed humbly and deferentially, and retired to the steps and his +cigarette. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Half-past six on the following morning found Constance and her father +rising from the breakfast table, and Tony turning in at the gate. +Constance's nod of greeting was barely perceptible, and her father's eye +contained a twinkle as he watched her. Tony studied her mountain-climbing +costume with an air of concern. + +'You go wif us, signorina?' His expression was blended of surprise and +disapproval, but in spite of himself his tone was triumphant. 'You say to +me yesterday you no want to climb any more mountain.' + +'I have changed my mind.' + +'But zis mountain to-day too long, too high. You get tired, signorina. +Perhaps anozzer day we take li'l' baby mountain, zen you can go.' + +'I am going to-day.' + +'It is not possible, signorina. I have not brought ze donk'.' + +'Oh, I'm going to walk.' + +'As you please, signorina.' + +He sighed patiently. Then he looked up and caught her eye. They both +laughed. + +'Signorina,' he whispered, 'I ver' happy to-day. Zat Costantina she more +kind. Yesterday ver' unkind; I go home ver' sad. But to-day I sink----' + +'Yes?' + +'I sink after all maybe she like me li'l' bit.' + +Giuseppe rowed the three climbers a mile or so down the lake and set them +ashore at the base of their mountain. They started up gaily and had +accomplished half their journey before they thought of being tired. Tony +surpassed himself; if he had been entertaining the day before he was +doubly so now. His spirits were bubbling over and contagious. He and +Constance acted like two children out of school. They ran races and +talked to the peasants in the wayside cottages. They drove a herd of +goats for half a mile while the goatherd strolled behind and smoked +Tony's cigarettes. Constance took a water-jar from a little girl they +met coming from the fountain and endeavoured to balance it on her own +head, with the result that she nearly drowned both herself and the child. + +They finally stopped for luncheon in a grove of chestnut trees with sheep +nibbling on the hill-side below them and a shepherd boy somewhere out of +sight playing on a mouth organ. It should have been a flute, but they +were in a forgiving mood. Constance this time did her share of the work. +She and Tony together spread the cloth and made the coffee while her +father fanned himself and looked on. If Mr. Wilder had any unusual +thoughts in regard to the donkey-man, they were at least not reflected in +his face. + +When they had finished their meal Tony spread his coat under a tree. + +'Signorina,' he said, 'perhaps you li'l' tired? Look, I make nice place +to sleep. You lie down and rest while ze Signor Papa and me, we have +li'l' smoke. Zen after one, two hours I come call you.' + +Constance very willingly accepted the suggestion. They had walked five +uphill miles since morning. It was two hours later that she opened her +eyes to find Tony bending over her. She sat up and regarded him sternly. +He had the grace to blush. + +'Tony, did you kiss my hand?' + +'_Scusi_, signorina. I ver' sorry to wake you, but it is tree o'clock and +ze Signor Papa he say we must start just now or we nevair get to ze +top.' + +'Answer my question.' + +'Signorina, I cannot tell to you a lie. It is true, I forget I am just +poor donkey-man. I play li'l' game. You sleeping beauty; I am ze prince. +I come to wake you. Just _one_ kiss I drop on your hand--one ver' little +kiss, signorina.' + +Constance assumed an air of indignant reproof, but in the midst of it she +laughed. + +'I wish you wouldn't be so funny, Tony; I can't scold you as much as you +deserve. But I am angry just the same, and if anything like that ever +happens again I shall be very _very_ angry.' + +'Signorina, I would not make you very _very_ angry for anysing. As long +as I live nosing like zat shall happen again. No, nevair, I promise.' + +They plunged into a pine wood and climbed for another two hours, the +summit always vanishing before them like a mirage. At the end of that +time they were apparently no nearer their goal than when they had +started. They had followed first one path, then another, until they had +lost all sense of direction, and finally when they came to a place where +three paths diverged, they had to acknowledge themselves definitely lost. +Mr. Wilder elected one path, Tony another, and Constance sat down on a +rock. + +'I'm not going any farther,' she observed. + +'You can't stay here all night,' said her father. + +'Well, I can't walk over this mountain all night. We don't get anywhere; +we merely move in circles. I don't think much of the guide you engaged. +He doesn't know his way.' + +'He wasn't engaged to know his way,' Tony retorted. 'He was engaged to +wear earrings and sing Santa Lucia.' + +Constance continued to sit on her rock while Tony went forward on a +reconnoitring expedition. He returned in ten minutes with the information +that there was a shepherd's hut not very far off with a shepherd inside +who would like to be friendly. If the signorina would deign to ask some +questions in the Italian language which she spoke so fluently, they could +doubtless obtain directions as to the way home. + +They found the shepherd, the shepherdess and four little shepherds eating +their evening polenta in an earth-floored room, with half a dozen +chickens and the family pig gathered about them in an expectant group. +They rose politely and invited the travellers to enter. It was an event +in their simple lives when foreigners presented themselves at the door. + +Constance commenced amenities by announcing that she had been walking on +the mountain since sunrise and was starving. Did they by chance have any +fresh milk? + +'Starving! _Madonna mia_, how dreadful!' Madame held up her hands. But +yes, to be sure they had fresh milk. They kept four cows. That was their +business--turning milk into cheese and selling it on market day in the +village. Also they had some fresh mountain strawberries which Beppo had +gathered that morning--perhaps they too might be pleasing to the +signorina? + +Constance nodded affirmatively, and added, with her eyes on the pig, that +it might be pleasanter to eat outside where they could look at the view. +She became quite gay again over what she termed their afternoon +tea-party, and her father had to remind her most insistently that if they +wished to get down before darkness overtook them they must start at once. +An Italian twilight is short. They paid for the food and presented a lira +apiece to the children, leaving them silhouetted against the sky in a +bobbing row shouting musical farewells. + +Their host led them through the woods and out on to the brow of the +mountain in order to start them down by the right path. He regretted that +he could not go all the way, but the sheep had still to be brought in for +the night. At the parting he was garrulous with directions. + +The easiest way to get home now would be straight down the mountain to +Grotta del Monte--he pointed out the brown-tiled roofs of a village far +below them--there they could find donkeys or an ox-cart to take them +back. It was nine kilometres to Valedolmo. They had come quite out of +their way; if they had taken the right path in the morning they would +have reached the top, where the view was magnificent--truly magnificent. +It was a pity to miss it. Perhaps some other day they would like to come +again and he himself would be pleased to guide them. He shook hands and +wished them a pleasant journey. They would best hurry a trifle, he added, +for darkness came fast, and when one got caught on the mountain at +night--he shrugged his shoulders and looked at Tony--one needed a guide +who knew his business. + +They had walked for ten minutes when they heard some one shouting behind +and found a young man calling to them to wait. He caught up with them and +breathlessly explained. + +Pasquale had told him that they were foreigners from America who were +climbing the mountain for diversion and who had lost their way. He was +going down to the village himself and would be pleased to guide them. + +He fell into step beside Constance and commenced asking questions, while +Tony, as the path was narrow, perforce fell behind. Occasionally +Constance translated, but usually she laughed without translating, and +Tony, for the twentieth time, found himself hating the Italian language. + +The young man's question's were refreshingly ingenuous. He was curious +about America, since he was thinking, he said, of becoming an American +himself some day. He knew a man once who had gone to America to live and +had made a fortune there--but yes, a large fortune--ten thousand lire in +four years. Perhaps the signorina knew him--Giuseppe Motta; he lived in +Buenos Aires. And what did it look like--America? How was it different +from Italy? + +Constance described the sky-scrapers in New York. + +His wonder was intense. A building twenty stories high! _Dio mio_! He +should hate to mount himself up all those stairs. Were the buildings like +that in the country too? Did the shepherds live in houses twenty stories +high? + +'Oh no,' she laughed. 'In the country the houses are just like these, +only they are made of wood instead of stone.' + +'Of wood?' He opened his eyes. 'But, signorina, do they never burn?' + +He had another question to ask. He had been told--though of course he did +not believe it--that the Indians in America had red skins. + +Constance nodded yes. His eyes opened wider. + +'Truly red like your coat?' with a glance at her scarlet golf jacket. + +'Not quite,' she admitted. + +'But how it must be diverting,' he sighed, 'to travel the world over and +see different things.' He fell silent and trudged on beside her, the +wanderlust in his eyes. + +It was almost dark when they reached the big arched gateway that led into +the village. Here their ways parted and they paused for farewell. + +'Signorina,' the young man said suddenly, 'take me with you back to +America. I will prune your olive trees, I will tend your vines. You can +leave me in charge when you go on your travels.' + +She shook her head with a laugh. + +'But I have no vines; I have no olive trees. You would be homesick for +Italy.' + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +'Then good-bye. You, signorina, will go around the world and see many +sights, while I, for travel, shall ride on a donkey to Valedolmo.' + +He shook hands all around and with the grace of a prince accepted two of +Tony's cigarettes. His parting speech showed him a fatalist. + +'What will be, will be. There is a girl----' he waved his hand vaguely in +the direction of the village. 'If I go to America then I cannot stay +behind and marry Maria. So perhaps it is planned for the best. You will +find me, signorina, when next you come to Italy, still digging the ground +in Grotta del Monte.' + +As he swung away Tony glanced after him with a suggestion of malice, then +he transferred his gaze to the empty gateway. + +'I see no one else with whom you can talk Italian. Perhaps for ten +minutes you will deign to speak English with me?' + +'I am too tired to talk,' she threw over her shoulder as she followed her +father through the gate. + +They plunged into a tangle of tortuous paved streets, the houses pressing +each other as closely as if there were not all the outside world to +spread in. Grotta del Monte is built on a slope and its streets are in +reality long narrow flights of stairs all converging in the little +piazza. The moon was not yet up, and aside from an occasional flickering +light before a madonna's shrine, the way was black. + +'Signorina, take my arm. I'm afraid maybe you fall.' + +Tony's voice was humbly persuasive. Constance laughed and laid her hand +lightly on his arm. Tony dropped his own hand over hers and held her +firmly. Neither spoke until they came to the piazza. + +'Signorina,' he whispered, 'you make me ver' happy to-night.' + +She drew her hand away. + +'I'm tired, Tony. I'm not quite myself.' + +'No, signorina, yesterday I sink maybe you not yourself, but to-day you +ver' good, ver' kind--jus' your own self ze way you ought to be.' + +The piazza, after the dark, narrow streets that led to it, seemed +bubbling with life. The day's work was finished and the evening's play +had begun. In the centre, where a fountain splashed into a broad bowl, +groups of women and girls with copper water-jars were laughing and +gossiping as they waited their turns. One side of the square was flanked +by the imposing faēade of a church with the village saint on a pedestal +in front; the other side, by a cheerfully inviting osteria with tables +and chairs set into the street and a glimpse inside of a blazing hearth +and copper kettles. + +Mr. Wilder headed in a straight line for the nearest chair and dropped +into it with an expression of permanence. Constance followed, and they +held a colloquy with a bowing host. He was vague as to the finding of +carriage or donkeys, but if they would accommodate themselves until after +supper there would be a diligence along which would take them back to +Valedolmo. + +'How soon will the diligence arrive?' asked Constance. + +The man spread out his hands. + +'It is due in three-quarters of an hour, but it may be early and it may +be late. It arrives when God and the driver wills.' + +'In that case,' she laughed, 'we will accommodate ourselves until after +supper--and we have appetites! Please bring everything you have.' + +They supped on _minestra_ and _fritto misto_ washed down with the red +wine of Grotta del Monte, which, their host assured them, was famous +through all the country. He could not believe that they had never heard +of it in Valedolmo. People sent for it from far off, even from Verona. + +They finished their supper and the famous wine, but there was still no +diligence. The village also had finished its supper and was drifting in +family groups into the piazza. The moon was just showing above the +house-tops, and its light, combined with the blazing braziers before the +cook-shops, made the square a patchwork of brilliant high-lights and +black shadows from deep-cut doorways. Constance sat up alertly and +watched the people crowding past. Across from the inn an itinerant show +had established itself on a rudely improvised stage, with two flaring +torches which threw their light half across the piazza, and turned the +spray of the fountain into an iridescent shower. The gaiety of the scene +was contagious. Constance rose insistently. + +'Come, Dad; let's go over and see what they're doing.' + +'No, thank you, my dear. I prefer my chair.' + +'Oh, Dad, you're so phlegmatic!' + +'But I thought you were tired.' + +'I'm not any more; I want to see the play.--You come then, Tony.' + +Tony rose with an elaborate sigh. + +'As you please, signorina,' he murmured obediently. An onlooker would +have thought Constance cruel in dragging him away from his well-earned +rest. + +They made their way across the piazza and mounted the church steps behind +the crowd where they could look across obliquely to the little stage. A +clown was dancing to the music of a hurdy-gurdy, while a woman in a +tawdry pink satin evening gown beat an accompaniment on a drum. It was a +very poor play with very poor players, and yet it represented to these +people of Grotta del Monte something of life, of the big outside world +which they in their little village would never see. Their upturned faces +touched by the moonlight and the flare of the torches contained a look of +wondering eagerness--the same look that had been in the eyes of the young +peasant when he had begged to be taken to America. + +The two stood back in the shadow of the doorway watching the people with +the same interest that the people were expending on the stage. A child +had been lifted to the base of the saint's pedestal in order to see, and +in the excitement of a duel between two clowns he suddenly lost his +balance and toppled off. His mother snatched him up quickly and +commenced covering the hurt arm with kisses to make it well. + +Constance laughed. + +'Isn't it queer,' she asked, 'to think how different these people are +from us and yet how exactly the same. Their way of living is absolutely +foreign, but their feelings are just like yours and mine.' + +He touched her arm and called her attention to a man and a girl on the +step below them. It was the young peasant again who had guided them down +the mountain, but who now had eyes for no one but Maria. She leaned +toward him to see the stage and his arm was around her. Their interest in +the play was purely a pretence, and both of them knew it. + +Tony laughed softly and echoed her words. + +'Yes, their feelings are just like yours and mine.' + +He slipped his arm around her. + +Constance drew back quickly. + +'I think,' she remarked, 'that the diligence has come.' + +'Oh, hang the diligence!' Tony growled. 'Why couldn't it have been five +minutes late?' + +They returned to the inn to find Mr. Wilder already on the front seat, +and obligingly holding the reins, while the driver occupied himself with +a glass of the famous wine. The diligence was a roomy affair of four +seats and three horses. Behind the driver were three Italians +gesticulating violently over local politics; a new _sindaco_ was +imminent. Behind these were three black-hooded nuns covertly interested +in the woman in the pink evening gown. And behind the three, occupying +the exact centre of the rear seat, was a fourth nun with the portly +bearing of a Mother Superior. She was very comfortable as she was, and +did not propose to move. Constance climbed up on one side of her and Tony +on the other. + +'We are well chaperoned,' he grumbled, as they jolted out of the piazza. +'I always did think that the Church interfered too much with the rights +of individuals.' + +Constance, in a spirit of friendly expansiveness, proceeded to pick up an +acquaintance with the nuns, and the four black heads were presently +bobbing in unison, while Tony, in gloomy isolation at his end of the +seat, folded his arms and stared at the road. The driver had passed +through many villages that day and had drunk many glasses of famous wine; +he cracked his whip and sang as he drove. They rattled in and out of +stone-paved villages, along open stretches of moonlit road, past villas +and olive groves. Children screamed after them, dogs barked, Constance +and her four nuns were very vivacious, and Tony's gloom deepened with +every mile. + +They had covered three-quarters of the distance when the diligence was +brought to a halt before a high stone wall and a solid barred gate. The +nuns came back to the present with an excited cackling. Who would believe +they had reached the convent so soon! They made their adieus and +ponderously descended, their departure accelerated by Tony who had become +of a sudden alertly helpful. As they started again he slid along into the +Mother Superior's empty seat. + +'What were we saying when the diligence interrupted?' he inquired. + +'I don't remember, Tony, but I don't want to talk any more; I'm tired.' + +'You tired, signorina? Lay your head on my shoulder and go to sleep.' + +'Tony, _please_ behave yourself. I'm simply too tired to make you do it.' + +He reached over and took her hand. She did not try to withdraw it for +two--three minutes; then she shot him a sidewise glance. 'Tony,' she +said, 'don't you think you are forgetting your place?' + +'No, signorina, I am just learning it.' + +'Let go my hand.' + +He gazed pensively at the moon and hummed Santa Lucia under his breath. + +'Tony! I shall be angry with you.' + +'I shall be ver' sorry for zat, signorina. I do not wish to make you +angry, but I sink--perhaps you get over it.' + +'You are behaving abominably to-day, Tony. I shall never stay alone with +you again.' + +'Signorina, look at zat moon up dere. Is it not ver' bright? When I look +at zat moon I have always beautiful toughts about how much I love +Costantina.' + +An interval followed during which neither spoke. The driver's song was +growing louder and the horses were galloping. The diligence suddenly +rounded a curved cliff on two wheels. Constance lurched against him; he +caught her and held her. Her lips were very near his; he kissed her +softly. + +She moved to the far end of the seat and faced him with flushed cheeks. +'I thought you were a gentleman!' + +'I used to be, signorina; now I am only poor donkey-man.' + +'I shall never speak to you again. You can climb as many mountains as you +wish with my father, but you can't have anything more to do with me.' + +'_Scusi_, signorina. I--I did not mean to. It was just an accident, +signorina.' + +Constance turned her back and stared at the road. + +'It was not my fault. Truly it was not my fault. I did not wish to kiss +you--no nevair. But I could not help it. You put your head too close.' + +She raised her eyes and studied the mountain-top. + +'Signorina, why you treat me so cruel?' + +Her back was inflexible. + +'I am desolate. If you forgive me zis once I will nevair again do a sing +so wicked. Nevair, nevair, nevair.' + +Constance continued her inspection of the mountain-top. Tony leaned +forward until he could see her face. + +'Signorina,' he whispered, 'jus' give me one li'l' smile to show me you +are not angry for ever.' + +The stage had stopped and Mr. Wilder was climbing down, but Constance's +gaze was still fixed on the sky, and Tony's eyes were on her. + +'What's the matter, Constance, have you gone to sleep? Aren't you going +to get out?' + +She came back with a start. + +'Are we here already?' + +There was a suspicion of regret in her tone which did not escape Tony. + +At the Villa Rosa gates he wished them a humbly deferential good night, +but with a smile hovering about the corners of his mouth. Constance made +no response. As he strode off, however, she turned her head and looked +after him. He turned too and caught her. He waved his hand with a laugh, +and took up his way, whistling Santa Lucia in double time. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Three days passed in which Mr. Wilder and Tony industriously climbed, and +in which nothing of consequence passed between Constance and Tony. If she +happened to be about when the expeditions either started or came to an +end (and for one reason or another she usually was) she ignored him +entirely; and he ignored her, except for an occasional mockingly +deferential bow. He appeared to extract as much pleasure from the +excursions as Mr. Wilder, and he asked for no extra compensation by the +way. + +It was Tuesday again, just a week and a day since the young American had +dropped over the wall of Villa Rosa asking for the garden of the prince. +Tony and Mr. Wilder were off on a trip; Miss Hazel and Constance on the +point of sitting down to afternoon tea--there were no guests to-day--when +the gardener from the Hotel du Lac appeared with a message from Nannie +Hilliard. She and her aunt had arrived half an hour before, which was a +good two days earlier than they were due. Constance read the note with a +clouded brow and silently passed it to Miss Hazel. The news was not so +entirely welcome as under other circumstances it would have been. Nannie +Hilliard was both perspicacious and fascinating, and Constance foresaw +that her presence would tangle further the already tangled plot of the +little comedy which was unfolding itself at Villa Rosa. But Miss Hazel, +divining nothing of comedies or plots, was thrown into a pleasant flutter +by the news. Guests were a luxury which occurred but seldom in the quiet +monotony of Valedolmo. + +'We must call on them at once and bring them back to the house.' + +'I suppose we must.' Constance agreed with an uncordial sigh. + +Fifteen minutes later they were on their way to the Hotel du Lac, while +Elizabetta, on her knees in the villa guest-room, was vigorously +scrubbing the mosaic floor. + +Gustavo hurried out to meet them. He was plainly in a flutter; something +had occurred to upset the usual suavity of his manners. + +'_Si_, signorina, in ze garden--ze two American ladies--having tea. And +you are acquaint wif ze family; all ze time you are acquaint wif zem, and +you never tell me!' There was mystification and reproach in his tone. +Constance eyed him with a degree of mystification on her side. + +'I am acquainted with a number of families that I have never told you +about,' she observed. + +'_Scusi_, signorina,' he stammered; and immediately, 'Tony, zat +donk'-man, what you do wif him?' + +'Oh, he and my father are climbing Monte Brione to-day.' + +'What time zay come home?' + +'About seven o'clock, I fancy. + +'Ze signora and ze signorina--zay come two days before zay are expect.' +And he was clearly aggrieved by the fact. + +Constance's mystification increased; she saw not the slightest connexion. + +'I suppose, Gustavo, you can find them something to eat even if they did +come two days before they were expected?' + +The two turned toward the arbour, but Constance paused for a moment and +glanced back with a shade of mischief in her eye. + +'By the way, Gustavo, that young man who taught the parrot English has +gone?' + +Gustavo rolled his eyes to the sky and back to her face. She understood +nothing; was there ever a muddle like this? + +'_Si_, signorina,' he murmured confusedly, 'ze yong man is gone.' + +Nannie caught sight of the visitors first, and with a start which nearly +upset the tea table, came running forward to meet them; while her aunt, +Mrs. Eustace, followed more placidly. Nannie was a big wholesome outdoor +girl of a purely American type. She waited for no greetings; she had news +to impart. + +'Constance, Miss Hazel! I'm so glad to see you--what do you think? I'm +engaged!' + +Miss Hazel murmured incoherent congratulations, and tried not to look as +shocked as she felt. In her day, no lady would have made so delicate an +announcement in any such off-hand manner as this. Constance received it +in the spirit in which it was given. + +'Who's the man?' she inquired, as she shook hands with Mrs. Eustace. + +'You don't know him--Harry Eastman, a friend of Jerry's. Jerry doesn't +know it yet, and I had to confide in some one. Oh, it's no secret; Harry +cabled home--he wanted to get it announced so I couldn't change my mind. +You see he only had a three weeks' vacation; he took a fast boat, landed +at Cherbourg, followed us the whole length of France, and caught us in +Lucerne just after Jerry had gone. I couldn't refuse him after he'd taken +such a lot of trouble. That's what detained us: we had expected to come a +week ago. And now----' by a rapid change of expression she became +tragic.--'We've lost Jerry Junior!' + +'Lost Jerry Junior!' Constance's tone was interested. 'What has become of +him?' + +'We haven't an idea. He's been spirited off--vanished from the earth and +left no trace. Really, we're beginning to be afraid he's been captured by +brigands. That head waiter, that Gustavo, knows where he is, but we can't +get a word out of him. He tells a different story every ten minutes. I +looked in the register to see if by chance he'd left an address there, +and what do you think I found?' + +'Oh!' said Constance; there was a world of illumination in her tone. +'What did you find?' she asked, hastily suppressing every emotion but +polite curiosity. + +'"Abraham Lincoln" in Jerry's hand-writing!' + +'Really!' Constance dimpled irrepressibly. 'You are sure Jerry wrote it?' + +'It was his writing; and I showed it to Gustavo, and what do you think he +said?' + +Constance shook her head. + +'He said that Jerry had forgotten to register, that that was written by a +Hungarian nobleman who was here last week--imagine a Hungarian nobleman +named Abraham Lincoln!' + +Constance dropped into one of the little iron chairs and bowed her head +on the back and laughed. + +'Perhaps you can explain?' There was a touch of sharpness in Nannie's +tone. + +'Don't ever ask me to explain anything Gustavo says; the man is not to be +believed under oath.' + +'But what's become of Jerry?' + +'Oh, he'll turn up.' Constance's tone was comforting. 'Aunt Hazel,' she +called. Miss Hazel and Mrs. Eustace, their heads together over the tea +table, were busily making up three months' dropped news. 'Do you +remember the young man I told you about who popped into our garden last +week? That was Jerry Junior!' + +'Then you've seen him?' said Nannie. + +Constance related the episode of the broken wall--the sequel she omitted. +'I hadn't seen him for six years,' she added apologetically, 'and I +didn't recognize him. Of course if I'd dreamed----' + +Nannie groaned. + +'And I thought I'd planned it so beautifully!' + +'Planned what?' + +'I suppose I might as well tell you since it's come to nothing. We +hoped--that is, you see--I've been so worried for fear Jerry----' She +took a breath and began again. 'You know, Constance, when it comes to +getting married, a man has no more sense than a two-year child. So I +determined to pick out a wife for Jerry, myself, one I would like to have +for a sister. I've done it three times and he simply wouldn't look at +them; you can't imagine how stubborn he is. But when I found we were +coming to Valedolmo, I said to myself, now this is my opportunity; I will +have him marry Connie Wilder.' + +'You might have asked my permission.' + +'Oh, well, Jerry's a dear; next to Harry you couldn't find any one nicer. +But I knew the only way was not to let him suspect. I thought, you see, +that you were still staying at the hotel; I didn't know you'd taken a +villa, so I planned for him to come to meet us three days before we +really expected to get here. I thought in the meantime, being stranded +together in a little hotel, you'd surely get acquainted--Jerry's very +resourceful that way--and with all this beautiful Italian scenery about, +and nothing to do----' + +'I see!' Constance's tone was somewhat dry. + +'But nothing happened as I had planned. You weren't here, he was bored to +death, and I was detained longer than I meant. We got the most pathetic +letter from him the second day, saying there was no one but the head +waiter to talk to, nothing but an india-rubber tree to look at, and if we +didn't come immediately, he'd do the Dolomites without us. Then finally, +just as we were on the point of leaving, he sent a telegram saying: +"Don't come. Am climbing mountains. Stay there till you hear from me." +But being already packed, we came, and this is what we find----' She +waved her hand over the empty grove. + +'It serves you right; you shouldn't deceive people.' + +'It was for Jerry's good--and yours too. But what shall we do? He doesn't +know we're here and he has left no address.' + +'Come out to the villa and visit us till he comes to search for you.' + +Constance could hear her aunt delivering the same invitation to Mrs. +Eustace, and she perforce repeated it, though with the inward hope that +it would be declined. She had no wish that Tony and her father should +return from their trip to find a family party assembled on the terrace. +The adventure was not to end with any such tame climax as that. To her +relief they did decline, at least for the night; they could make no +definite plans until they had heard from Jerry. Constance rose upon this +assurance and precipitated their leave-takings; she did not wish her aunt +to press them to change their minds. + +'Good-bye, Mrs. Eustace, good-bye, Nannie; we'll be around to-night to +take you sailing--provided there's any breeze.' + +She nodded and dragged her aunt off; but as they were entering the arbour +a plan for further complicating matters popped into her head, and she +turned back to call-- + +'You are coming to the villa to-morrow, remember, whether Jerry Junior +turns up or not. I'll write a note and invite him too--Gustavo can give +it to him when he comes, and you needn't bother any more about him.' + +They found Gustavo hovering omnivorously in the courtyard, hungering for +news; Constance summoned him to her side. + +'Gustavo, I am going to send you a note to-night for Mr. Jerymn Hilliard. +You will see that it gets to him as soon as he arrives?' + +'Meestair Jayreem Ailyar?' Gustavo stared. + +'Yes, the brother of the signorina who came to-day. He is expected +to-morrow or perhaps the day after.' + +'_Scusi_, signorina. You--you acquaint wif him?' + +'Yes, certainly. I have known him for six years. Don't forget to deliver +the note; it's important.' + +They raised their parasols and departed, while Gustavo stood in the +gateway bowing. The motion was purely mechanical; his thoughts were +labouring elsewhere. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Constance occupied herself upon their return to Villa Rosa in writing the +letter to Jerry Junior. It had occurred to her that this was an excellent +chance to punish him, and it was the working philosophy of her life that +a man should always be punished when opportunity presented. Tony had been +entirely too unconcerned during the past few days; he needed a lesson. +She spent three-quarters of an hour in composing her letter, and tore up +two false starts before she was satisfied. It did not contain the +slightest hint that she knew the truth, and--considered in this light--it +was likely to have a chastening effect. The letter ran-- + + 'VILLA ROSA, VALEDOLMO, + 'LAGO DI GARDA. + + 'DEAR JERRY JUNIOR: I hope you don't mind being called "Jerry + Junior," but "Mr. Hilliard" sounds so absurdly formal, when I have + known your sister so long and so well. We are spending the summer + here in Valedolmo, and Mrs. Eustace and Nannie have promised to + stop with us for a few days, provided you can be persuaded to pause + in your mad rush through Europe. Now please take pity on us--guests + are such unusual luxuries, and as for _men_! Besides a passing + tourist or so, we have had nothing but Italian officers. You can + climb mountains with my father--Nan says you are a climber--and we + can supply mountains enough to keep you occupied for a month. + + 'My father would write himself, only that he is climbing this + moment. + + 'Yours most cordially, + 'CONSTANCE WILDER.' + + 'P.S.--I forgot to mention that we are acquainted already, you and + I. We met six years ago, and you insulted me--under your own roof. + You called me a _kid_. I shall accept nothing but a personal + apology.' + +Having read it critically, she sealed and addressed it with malicious +delight; it was calculated to arouse just about the emotions she would +like to have Tony entertain. She gave the note to Giuseppe with +instructions to place it in Gustavo's hands, and then settled herself +gaily to await results. + +Giuseppe was barely out of sight when the two Alpine climbers appeared at +the gate. Constance had been wondering how she could inform Tony that his +aunt and sister had arrived, without unbending from the dignified silence +of the past three days. The obvious method was to announce it to her +father in Tony's presence, but her father slipped into the house by the +back way without affording her an opportunity. It was Tony himself who +solved the difficulty. Of his own accord he crossed the terrace and +approached her side. He laid a bunch of edelweiss on the balustrade. + +'It's a peace offering,' he observed. + +She looked at him a moment without speaking. There was a new expression +in her eyes that puzzled Tony, just as the expression in his eyes that +morning on the water had puzzled her. She was studying him in the light +of Jerry Junior. The likeness to the sophomore who six years before sang +the funny songs without a smile, was so very striking, she wondered she +could ever have overlooked it. + +'Thank you, Tony; it is very nice of you.' She picked up the flowers and +smiled--with the knowledge of the letter that was waiting for him she +could afford to be forgiving. + +'You discharged me, signorina; will you take me back into your service?' + +'I am not going to climb any more mountains; it is too fatiguing. I think +it is better for you and my father to go alone.' + +'I will serve you in other ways.' + +Constance studied the mountains a moment. Should she tell him she knew, +or should she keep up the pretence a little longer? Her insatiable love +of intrigue won. + +'Are you sure you wish to be taken back?' + +'_Si_, signorina, I am very sure.' + +'Then perhaps you will do me a favour on your way home to-night?' + +'You have but to ask.' + +'I wish to send a message to a young American man who is staying at the +Hotel du Lac--you may have seen him?' + +Tony nodded. + +'I have climb Monte Maggiore wif him. You recommend me; I sank you ver' +moch. Nice man, zat yong American; ver' good, ver' simpatico.' He leaned +forward with a sudden air of anxiety. 'Signorina, you--you like zat yong +man?' + +'I have only met him twice, but--yes, I like him.' + +'You like him better zan me?' His anxiety deepened; he hung upon her +word. + +She shook her head reassuringly. + +'I like you both exactly the same.' + +'Signorina, which you like better, zat yong American or ze Signor +Lieutenant?' + +'Your questions are getting too personal, Tony.' + +He folded his arms and sighed. + +'Will you deliver my message?' + +'_Si_, signorina, wif pleasure.' There was not a trace of curiosity in +his expression, nothing beyond a deferential desire to serve. + +'Tell him, Tony, that Miss Wilder will be at home to-morrow afternoon at +tea-time; if he will come by the gate and present a card she will be most +pleased to see him. She wishes him to meet an American friend, a Miss +Hilliard, who has just arrived at the hotel this afternoon.' + +She watched him sharply; his expression did not alter by a shade. He +repeated the message and then added as if by the merest chance-- + +'Ze yong American man, signorina--you know his name?' + +'Yes, I know his name.' This time for the fraction of a second she +surprised a look. 'His name'--she hesitated tantalizingly--'is Signor +Abraham Lincoln.' + +'Signor Ab-ra-ham Lin-coln.' He repeated it after her as if committing it +to memory. They gazed at each other soberly a moment; then both laughed +and looked away. + +Luigi had appeared in the doorway. Seeing no one more important than Tony +about, he found no reason for delaying the announcement of dinner. + +'_Il pranzo č sulla tavola, signorina._' + +'_Bene_!' said Constance over her shoulder. She turned back to Tony; her +manner was kind. 'If you go to the kitchen, Tony, Elizabetta will give +you some dinner.' + +'Sank you, signorina.' His manner was humble. 'Elizabetta's dinners +consist of a plate of garlic and macaroni on the kitchen steps. I don't +like garlic and I'm tired of macaroni; if it's just the same to you, I +think I'll dine at home.' He held out his hand. + +She read his purpose in his eye and put her own hands behind her. + +'You won't shake hands, signorina? We are not friends?' + +'I learned a lesson the last time.' + +'You shake hands wif Lieutenant Count Carlo di Ferara.' + +'It is the custom in Italy.' + +'We are in Italy.' + +'Behave yourself, Tony, and run along home!' + +She laughed and nodded and turned away. On the steps she paused to add-- + +'Be sure not to forget the message for Signor Abraham Lincoln. I shall be +disappointed if he doesn't come.' + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Tony returned to the Hotel du Lac, modestly, by the back way. He +assured himself that his aunt and sister were well by means of an open +window in the rear of the dining-room. The window was shaded by a clump +of camellias, and he studied at his ease the back of Mrs. Eustace's +head and Nannie's vivacious profile as she talked in fluent and +execrable German to the two Alpinists who were, at the moment, the only +other guests. Brotherly affection--and a humorous desire to create a +sensation--prompted him to walk in and surprise them. But saner second +thoughts prevailed; he decided to postpone the reunion until he should +have changed from the picturesque costume of Tony to the soberer garb of +Jerry Junior. He skirted the dining-room by a wide detour, and entered +the courtyard at the side. Gustavo, who for the last hour and a half had +been alertly watchful of four entrances at once, pounced upon him and +drew him to a corner. + +'Signore,' in a conspiratorial whisper, 'zay are come, ze aunt and ze +sister.' + +'I know--the Signorina Costantina told me so.' + +Gustavo blinked. + +'But, signore, she does not know it.' + +'Yes, she does--she saw 'em herself.' + +'I mean, signore, she does not know zat you are ze brover?' + +'Oh, no, she doesn't know that.' + +'But she tell me zat she is acquaint wif ze brover for six years.' He +shook his head hopelessly. + +'That's all right.' Tony patted his shoulder reassuringly. 'When she knew +me I used to have yellow hair, but I thought it made me look too girlish, +so I had it dyed black. She didn't recognize me.' + +Gustavo accepted the explanation with a side-glance at the hair. + +'Now, pay attention.' Tony's tone was slow and distinct. + +'I am going upstairs to change my clothes. Then I will slip out the back +way with a suit-case, and go down the road and meet the omnibus as it +comes back from the boat landing. You keep my aunt and sister in the +courtyard talking to the parrot or something until the omnibus arrives. +Then when I get out, you come forward with your politest bow and ask me +if I want a room. I'll attend to the rest--do you understand?' + +Gustavo nodded with glistening eyes. He had always felt stirring within +him powers for diplomacy, for finesse, and he rose to the occasion +magnificently. + +Tony turned away and went bounding upstairs two steps at a time, +chuckling as he went. He, too, was developing an undreamed of appetite +for intrigue, and his capacity in that direction was expanding to meet +it. He had covered the first flight, when Gustavo suddenly remembered the +letter and bounded after. + +'Signore! I beg of you to wait one moment. Here is a letter from ze +signorina; it is come while you are away.' + +Tony read the address with a start of surprise. + +'Then she knows!' There was regret, disillusionment, in his tone. + +It was Gustavo's turn to furnish enlightenment. + +'But no, signore, she do not comprehend. She sink Meestair Jayreem Ailyar +is ze brover who is not arrive. She leave it for him when he come.' + +'Ah!' Tony ripped it open and read it through with a chuckle. He read it +a second time and his face grew grave. He thrust it into his pocket and +strode away without a word for Gustavo. Gustavo looked after him +reproachfully. As a head waiter, he naturally did not expect to read the +letters of guests; but as a fellow conspirator, he felt that he was +entitled to at least a general knowledge of all matters bearing on the +conspiracy. He turned back downstairs with a disappointed droop to his +shoulders. + +Tony closed his door and walked to the window, where he stood staring at +the roof of Villa Rosa. He drew the letter from his pocket and read it +for the third time slowly, thoughtfully, very, very soberly. The reason +was clear; she was tired of Tony and was looking ahead for fresh worlds +to conquer. Jerry Junior was to come next. + +He understood why she had been so complaisant to-day. She wished the +curtain to go down on the comedy note. To-morrow, the nameless young +American, the 'Abraham Lincoln' of the register, would call--by the +gate--would be received graciously, introduced in his proper person to +the guests; the story of the donkey-man would be recounted and laughed +over, and he would be politely asked when he was planning to resume his +travels. This would be the end of the episode. To Constance, it had been +merely an amusing farce about which she could boast when she returned to +America. In her vivacious style it would make a story, just as her first +meeting with Jerry Junior had made a story. But as for the play itself, +for _him_, she cared nothing. Tony the man had made no impression. He +must pass on and give place to Jerry Junior. + +A flush crept over Tony's face and his mouth took a straighter line as he +continued to gaze down on the roof of Villa Rosa. His reflections were +presently interrupted by a knock. He turned and threw the door open with +a fling. + +'Well?' he inquired. + +Gustavo took a step backward. + +'_Scusi_, signore, but zay are eating ze dessart and in five--ten minutes +ze omnibus will arrive.' + +'The omnibus?' Tony stared. 'Oh!' he laughed shortly. 'I was just joking, +Gustavo.' + +Gustavo bowed and turned down the corridor; there was a look on Tony's +face that did not encourage confidences. He had not gone half a dozen +steps, however, when the door opened again and Tony called him back. + +'I am going away to-morrow morning--by the first boat this time--and you +mustn't let my aunt and sister know. I will write two letters and you are +to take them down to the steward of the boat that leaves to-night. Ask +him to put on Austrian stamps and mail them at Riva, so they'll get back +here to-morrow. Do you understand?' + +Gustavo nodded and backed away. His disappointment this time was too keen +for words. He saw stretching before him a future like the past, +monotonously bereft of plots and masquerades. + +Tony, having hit on a plan, sat down and put it into instant execution. +Opening his Baedeker, he turned to Riva and picked out the first hotel +that was mentioned. Then he wrote two letters, both short and to the +point; he indulged in none of Constance's vacillations, and yet in their +way his letters also were masterpieces of illusion. The first was +addressed to Miss Constance Wilder at Villa Rosa. It ran-- + + 'HOTEL SOLE D'ORO, + 'RIVA, AUSTRIA. + + 'DEAR MISS WILDER: Nothing would give me greater pleasure than + spending a few days in Valedolmo, but unfortunately I am pressed + for time, and am engaged to start Thursday morning with some + friends on a trip through the Dolomites. + + 'Trusting that I may have the pleasure of making your acquaintance + at some future date, + + 'Yours truly, + 'JERYMN HILLIARD, JR.' + +The second letter was addressed to his sister, but he trusted to luck +that Constance would see it. It ran-- + + 'HOTEL SOLE D'ORO, + 'RIVA, AUSTRIA. + + 'DEAR NAN: Who in thunder is Constance Wilder? She wants us to stop + and make a visit in Valedolmo. I wouldn't step into that infernal + town, not if the king himself invited me--it's the deadest hole on + the face of the earth. You can stay if you like and I'll go on + through the Dolomites alone. There's an American family stopping + here who are also planning the trip--a stunning girl; I know you'd + like her. + + 'Of course the travelling will be pretty rough. Perhaps you and + Aunt Kate would rather visit your friends and meet me later in + Munich. If you decide to take the trip, you will have to come on + down to Riva as soon as you get this letter, as we're planning to + pull out Thursday morning. + + 'Sorry to hurry you, but you know my vacation doesn't last for + ever. + + 'Love to Aunt Kate and yourself, + + 'Yours ever, + 'JERRY.' + +He turned the letters over to Gustavo with a five-franc note, leaving +Gustavo to decide with his own conscience whether the money was intended +for himself or the steward of the _Regina Margarita_. This accomplished, +he slipped out unobtrusively and took the road toward Villa Rosa. + +He strode along with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the path +until he nearly bumped his nose against the villa gate-post. Then he +stopped and thought. He had no mind to be ushered to the terrace, where +he would have to dissemble some excuse for his visit before Miss Hazel +and Mr. Wilder. His business to-night was with Constance, and Constance +alone. He turned and skirted the villa wall, determined on reconnoitring +first. There was a place in the wall--he knew well--where the stones were +missing, and a view was obtainable of the terrace and parapet. + +He reached the place to find Lieutenant Carlo di Ferara already there. +Now the Lieutenant's purpose was exactly as innocent as Tony's own; he +merely wished to assure himself that Captain Coroloni was not before him. +It was considered a joke at the tenth cavalry mess to detail one or the +other of the officers to call on the Americans at the same time that +Lieutenant di Ferara called. He was not spying on the family, merely on +his meddling brother officers. + +Tony of course could know nothing of this, and as his eyes fell upon the +lieutenant, there was apparent in their depths a large measure of +contempt. A lieutenant in the Royal Italian Cavalry can afford to be +generous in many things, but he cannot afford to swallow contempt from a +donkey-driver. The signorina was not present this time; there was no +reason why he should not punish the fellow. He dropped his hand on Tony's +shoulder--on his collar to be exact--and whirled him about. The action +was accompanied by some vigorous colloquial Italian--the gist of it being +that Tony was to mind his own business and mend his manners. The +lieutenant had a muscular arm, and Tony turned. But Tony had not played +quarterback four years for nothing; he tackled low, and the next moment +the lieutenant was rolling down the bank of a dried stream that stretched +at their feet. No one likes to roll down a dusty stony bank, much less an +officer in immaculate uniform on the eve of paying a formal call upon +ladies. He picked himself up and looked at Tony; he was quite beyond +speech. + +Tony looked back and smiled. He swept off his hat with a deferential bow. +'_Scusi_,' he murmured, and jumped over the wall into the grounds of +Villa Rosa. + +The lieutenant gasped. If anything could have been more insultingly +inadequate to the situation than that one word _Scusi_, it did not at the +moment occur to him. Jeering, blasphemy, vituperation, he might have +excused, but this! The shock jostled him back to a thinking state. + +Here was no ordinary donkey-driver. The hand that had rested for a +moment on his arm was the hand of a gentleman. The man's face was +vaguely, elusively familiar; if the lieutenant had not seen him before, +he had at least seen his picture. The man had pretended he could not talk +Italian, but--_Scusi_--it came out very pat when it was needed. + +An idea suddenly assailed Lieutenant di Ferara. He scrambled up the bank +and skirted the wall, almost on a run, until he reached the place where +his horse was tied. Two minutes later he was off at a gallop, headed for +the house of the prefect of police of Valedolmo. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Tony jumped over the wall. He might have landed in the midst of a family +party; but in so much luck was with him. He found the _Farfalla_ bobbing +at the foot of the water-steps with Mr. Wilder and Miss Hazel already +embarked. They were waiting for Constance, who had obligingly run back to +the house to fetch the rainbow shawl (finished that afternoon) as Miss +Hazel distrusted the Italian night breeze. + +Constance stepped out from the door as Tony emerged from the bushes. She +regarded him in startled surprise; he was still in some slight disarray +from his encounter with the lieutenant. + +'May I speak to you, Miss Wilder? I won't detain you but a moment.' + +She nodded and kept on, her heart thumping absurdly. He had received the +letter, of course; and there would be consequences. She paused at the top +of the water-steps. + +'You go on,' she called to the others, and pick me up on your way back. +Tony wants to see me about something, and I don't like to keep Mrs. +Eustace and Nannie waiting.' + +Giuseppe pushed off and Constance was left standing alone on the +water-steps. She turned as Tony approached; there was a touch of defiance +in her manner. + +'Well?' + +He came to her side and leaned carelessly against the parapet, his eyes +on the _Farfalla_ as she tossed and dipped in the wash of the _Regina +Margarita_ which was just puffing out from the village landing. Constance +watched him, slightly taken aback; she had expected him to be angry, +sulky, reproachful--certainly not nonchalant. When he finally brought his +eyes from the water, his expression was mildly melancholy. + +'Signorina, I have come to say good-bye. It is very sad, but to-morrow, I +too'--he waved his hand toward the steamer--'shall be a passenger.' + +'You are going away from Valedolmo?' + +He nodded. + +'Unfortunately, yes. I should like to stay, but'--he shrugged--'life +isn't all play, Miss Wilder. Though one would like to be a donkey-man for +ever, one only may be for a summer's holiday. I am your debtor for a +unique and pleasant experience.' + +She studied his face without speaking. Did it mean that he had got the +letter and was hurt, or did it perhaps mean that he had got the letter +and did not care to appear as Jerry Junior? That he enjoyed the play so +long as he could remain incognito and stop it where he pleased, but that +he had no mind to let it drift into reality? Very possibly it meant--she +flushed at the thought--that he divined Nannie's plot, and refused also +to consider the fourth candidate. + +She laughed and dropped into their usual jargon. + +'And the young American man, Signor Abraham Lincoln, will he come +to-morrow for tea?' + +'Ah, signorina, he is desolated, but it is not possible. He has received +a letter and he must go; he has stopped too long in Valedolmo. To-morrow +morning early, he and I togever, we sail away to Austria.' + +His eyes went back to the trail of smoke left by the little steamer. + +'And Costantina, Tony. You are leaving her behind?' It took some courage +to put this question, but she did not flinch; she put it with a laugh +which contained nothing but raillery. + +Tony sighed--a deep melodramatic sigh--and laid his hand on his heart. + +'Ah, signorina, zat Costantina, she has not any heart. She love one man +one day, anozzer ze next. I go away to forget.' + +His eyes dropped to hers; for an instant the mocking light died out; a +questioning wounded look took its place. + +She felt a quick impulse to hold out her hands, to say, 'Jerry, don't go! +'If she only knew! Was he going because he thought that she wished to +dismiss him, or because he wished to dismiss himself? Was it pique that +bade him carry the play to the end, or was it merely the desire to get +out of an awkward situation gracefully? + +She stood hesitating, scanning the terrace pavement with troubled eyes; +when she raised them to his face the chance was gone. He straightened his +shoulders with an air of finality and picked up his hat from the +balustrade. + +'Some day, signorina, in New York, perhaps I play a little tune underneaf +your window.' + +She nodded and smiled. + +'I will give the monkey a penny when he comes--good-bye.' + +He bowed over her hand and touched it lightly to his lips. + +'Signorina, _addio_!' + +As he strode away into the dusky lane of cypresses, she heard him +whistling softly 'Santa Lucia.' It was the last stroke, she reflected +angrily; he might at least have omitted that! She turned away and dropped +down on the water-steps to wait for the _Farfalla_. The terrace, the +lake, the beautiful Italian night, suddenly seemed deserted and empty. +Before she knew it was coming, she had leaned her head against the +balustrade with a deep sob. She caught herself sharply. She to sit there +crying, while Tony went whistling on his way! + + * * * * * + +As the _Farfalla_ drifted idly over the water, Constance sat in the +stern, her chin in her hand, moodily gazing at the shimmering path of +moonlight. But no one appeared to notice her silence, since Nannie was +talking enough for both. And the only thing she talked about was Jerry +Junior, how funny and clever and charming he was, how phenomenally +good--for a man; when she showed signs of stopping, Mr. Wilder by a +question started her on. It seemed to Constance an interminable two hours +before they dropped their guests in the garden of the Hotel du Lac, and +headed again for Villa Rosa. + +As they approached their own water-steps it became apparent that some +one--a man--was standing at the top in an attitude of expectancy. +Constance's heart gave a sudden bound and the next instant sank deep. A +babble of frenzied greetings floated out to meet them; there was no +mistaking Gustavo. Moreover, there was no mistaking the fact that he was +excited; his excitement was contagious even before they had learned the +reason. He stuttered in his impatience to share the news. + +'Signore! _Dio mio_! A calamity has happened. Zat Tony, zat donk'-man! he +has got hisself arrested. Zay say it is a lie, zat he is American +citizen; he is an officer who is dessert from ze Italian army. Zay say he +just pretend he cannot spik Italian--but it is not true. He know +ten--leven words.' + +They came hurrying up the steps and surrounded him, Mr. Wilder no less +shocked than Gustavo himself. + +'Arrested--as a deserter? It's an outrage!' he thundered. + +Constance laid her hand on Gustavo's sleeve and whirled him about. + +'What do you mean? I don't understand. Where is Tony?' + +Gustavo groaned. + +'In jail, signorina. Four carabinieri are come to take him away. And he +fight--_Dio mio_! he fight like ze devil. But zay put--' he indicated +handcuffs--'and he go.' + +Constance dropped down on the upper step, and leaning her head against +the balustrade, she laughed until she was weak. + +Her father whirled upon her indignantly. + +'Constance! Haven't you any sympathy for the man? This isn't a laughing +matter.' + +'I know, Dad, but it's so funny--Tony an Italian officer! He can't +pronounce the ten--'leven words he does know right.' + +'Of course he can't; he doesn't know as much Italian as I do. Can't these +fools tell an American citizen when they see one? I'll teach 'em to go +about chucking American citizens in jail. I'll telegraph the consul in +Milan; I'll make an international matter of it!' + +He fumed up and down the terrace, while Constance rose to her feet and +followed after with a pretence at pacification. + +'Hush, Dad! Don't be so excitable. It was a very natural mistake for them +to make. But if Tony is really what he says he is it will be very easily +proved. You must be sure of your ground, though, before you act. I don't +like to say anything against poor Tony now that he is in trouble, but I +have always felt that there was a mystery connected with him. For all we +know he may be a murderer or a brigand or an escaped convict in disguise. +We only have his word, you know, that he is an American citizen.' + +'His word!' Mr. Wilder fairly exploded. 'Are you utterly blind? He's +exactly as much an American citizen as I am. He's----' He stopped and +fanned himself furiously. He had sworn never to betray Tony's secret, and +yet, the present situation was exceptional. + +Constance patted him on the arm. 'There, Dad. I haven't a doubt his story +is true. He was born in Budapest, and he's a naturalized American +citizen. It's the duty of the United States Government to protect +him--but it won't be difficult; I dare say he's got his naturalization +papers with him. A word in the morning will set everything straight.' + +'Leave him in jail all night?' + +'But you can't do anything now; it's after ten o'clock; the authorities +have gone to bed.' + +She turned to Gustavo; her tone was reassuring. + +'In the morning we'll get some American warships to bombard the jail.' + +'Signorina, you joke!' His tone was reproachful. + +She suddenly looked anxious. 'Gustavo, is the jail strong?' + +'Ver' strong, signorina.' + +'He can't escape and get over into Austria? We are very near the +frontier, you know.' + +'No, signorina, it is impossible.' He shook his head hopelessly. + +Constance laughed and slipped her hand through her father's arm. + +'Come, Dad. The first thing in the morning we'll go down to the jail and +cheer him up. There's not the slightest use in worrying any more +to-night. It won't hurt Tony to be kept in--er--cold storage for a few +hours--I think on the whole it will do him good!' + +She nodded dismissal to Gustavo, and drew her father, still muttering, +toward the house. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +Jerry Junior's letter of regret arrived from Riva on the early mail. In +the light of Constance's effusively cordial invitation, the terse +formality of his reply was little short of rude; but Constance read +between the lines and was appeased. The writer, plainly, was angry, and +anger was a much more becoming emotion than nonchalance. As she set out +with her father toward the village jail, she was again buoyantly in +command of the situation. She carried a bunch of oleanders, and the pink +and white egg basket swung from her arm. Their way led past the gate of +the Hotel du Lac, and Mr. Wilder, being under the impression that he was +enjoying a very good joke all by himself, could not forgo the temptation +of stopping to inquire if Mrs. Eustace and Nannie had heard any news of +the prodigal. They found the two at breakfast in the courtyard, an open +letter spread before them. Nannie received them with lamentations. + +'We can't come to the villa! Here's a letter from Jerry wanting us to +start immediately for the Dolomites--did you ever know anything so +exasperating?' + +She passed the letter to Constance, and then as she remembered the first +sentence, made a hasty attempt to draw it back. It was too late; +Constance's eyes had already pounced upon it. She read it aloud with +gleeful malice. + +'"Who in thunder is Constance Wilder?"--If that's an example of the +famous Jerry Junior's politeness, I prefer not to meet him, thank +you.--It's worse than his last insult; I shall _never_ forgive this!' She +glanced down the page and handed it back with a laugh; from her point of +vantage it was naļvely transparent. From Mr. Wilder's point, however, the +contents were inscrutable; he looked from the letter to his daughter's +serene smile, and relapsed into a puzzled silence. + +'I should say, on the contrary, that he _doesn't_ want you to start +immediately for the Dolomites,' Constance observed. + +'It's a girl,' Nannie groaned. 'I suspected it from the moment we got the +telegram in Lucerne. Oh, why did I ever let that wretched boy get out of +my sight?' + +'I dare say she's horrid,' Constance put in. 'One meets such frightful +Americans travelling.' + +'We will go up to Riva on the afternoon boat and investigate.' It was +Mrs. Eustace who spoke. There was an undertone in her voice which +suggested that she was prepared to do her duty by her brother's son, +however unpleasant that duty might be. + +'American girls are so grasping,' said Nannie plaintively. 'It's scarcely +safe for an unattached man to go out alone.' + +Mr. Wilder leaned forward and reexamined the letter. + +'By the way, Miss Nannie, how did Jerry learn that you were here? His +letter, I see, was mailed in Riva at ten o'clock last night.' + +Nannie examined the postmark. 'I hadn't thought of that! How could he +have found out--unless that beast of a head waiter telegraphed? What does +it mean?' + +Mr. Wilder spread out his hands and raised his shoulders. 'You've got +me!' A gleam of illumination suddenly flashed over his face; he turned to +his daughter with what was meant to be a carelessly off-hand manner. +'Er--Constance, while I think of it, you didn't discharge Tony again +yesterday, did you?' + +Constance opened her eyes. + +'Discharge Tony? Why should I do that? He isn't working for me.' + +'You weren't rude to him?' + +'Father, am I ever rude to any one?' + +Mr. Wilder looked at the envelope again and shook his head. 'There's +something mighty fishy about this whole business. When you get hold of +that brother of yours again, my dear young woman, you make him tell what +he's been up to this week--and make him tell the truth.' + +'Mr. Wilder!' Nannie was reproachful. 'You don't know Jerry; he's +incapable of telling anything but the truth.' + +Constance tittered. + +'What are you laughing at, Constance?' + +'Nothing--only it's so funny. Why don't you advertise for him? Lost--a +young man, age twenty-eight, height five feet eleven, weight one hundred +and seventy pounds, dark hair, grey eyes, slight scar over left eyebrow; +dressed when last seen in double-breasted blue serge suit and brown +russet shoes. Finder please return to Hotel du Lac and receive liberal +reward.' + +'He isn't lost,' said Nannie. 'We know where he is perfectly; he's at the +Hotel Sole d'Oro in Riva, and that's at the other end of the lake. We're +going up on the afternoon boat to join him.' + +'Oh!' said Constance meekly. + +'You take my advice,' Mr. Wilder put in. 'Go up to Riva if you must--it's +a pleasant trip--but leave your luggage here. See this young man in +person and bring him back with you; tell him we have just as good +mountains as he'll find in the Dolomites. If by any chance you shouldn't +find him----' + +'Of course, we'll find him!' said Nannie. + +Constance looked troubled. + +'Don't go, it's quite a long trip. Write instead and give the letter to +Gustavo; he'll give it to the boat steward who will deliver it +personally. Then if Jerry shouldn't be there----' + +Nannie was losing her patience. + +'Shouldn't be there? But he _says_ he's there.' + +'Oh! yes, certainly, that ends it. Only, you know, Nannie, _I_ don't +believe there really is any such person as Jerry Junior! I think he's a +myth.' + +Gustavo had been hanging about the gate looking anxiously up the road as +if he expected something to happen. His brow cleared suddenly as a boy on +a bicycle appeared in the distance. The boy whirled into the court and +dismounted; glancing dubiously from one to the other of the group, he +finally presented his telegram to Gustavo, who passed it on to Nannie. +She ripped it open and ran her eyes over the contents. + +'Can any one tell me the meaning of this? It's Italian!' She spread it on +the table while the three bent over it in puzzled wonder. + +'Ceingide mai maind dunat comtu Riva stei in Valedolmo geri.' + +Constance was the first to grasp the meaning; she read it twice and +laughed. + +'That's not Italian; it's English, only the operator has spelt it +phonetically--I begin to believe there is a Jerry,' she added, 'no one +could cause such a bother who didn't exist.' She picked up the slip and +translated-- + + '"Changed my mind. Do not come to Riva; stay in Valedolmo--JERRY."' + +'I'm a clairvoyant, you see. I told you he wouldn't be there!' + +'But where is he?' Nannie wailed. + +Constance and her father glanced tentatively at each other, and were +silent. Gustavo, who had been hanging officiously in the rear, approached +and begged their pardon. + +'_Scusi_, signora, but I sink I can explain. _Ecco_! Ze telegram is dated +from Limone--zat is a village close by here on ze ozzer side of ze lake. +He is gone on a walking trip, ze yong man, of two--tree days wif an +Englishman who is been in zis hotel. If he expect you so soon he would +not go. But patience, he will come back. Oh, yes, in a little while, +after one--two day he come back.' + +'What is the man talking about?' Mrs. Eustace was both indignant and +bewildered. 'Jerry was in Riva yesterday at the Hotel Sole d'Oro. How +can he be on a walking trip at the other end of the lake to-day?' + +'You don't suppose'--Nannie's voice was tragic--'that he has eloped with +that American girl?' + +'Good heavens, my dear!' Mrs. Eustace appealed to Mr. Wilder. 'What are +the laws in this dreadful country? Don't banns or something have to be +published three weeks before the ceremony can take place?' + +Mr. Wilder rose hastily. + +'Yes, yes, dear lady. It's impossible; don't consider any such +catastrophe for a moment. Come, Constance, I really think we ought to be +going.--Er, you see, Mrs. Eustace, you can't believe--that is, don't let +anything Gustavo says trouble you. With all respect for his many fine +qualities, he has not Jerry's regard for truth. And don't bother any more +about the boy; he will turn up in a day or so. He may have written some +letters of explanation that you haven't got. These foreign mails----' He +edged toward the gate. + +Constance followed him and then turned back. + +'We're on our way to the jail,' she said, 'to visit our donkey-driver, +who has managed to get himself arrested. While we're there we can make +inquiries if you like; it's barely possible that they might have got hold +of Jerry on some false charge or other. These foreign jails----' + +'Constance!' said Nannie reproachfully. + +'Oh, my dear, I was only joking; of course it's impossible. Good-bye.' +She nodded and laughed and ran after her father. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +If one must go to jail at all one could scarcely choose a more +entertaining jail than that of Valedolmo. It occupies a structure which +was once a palace; and its cells, planned for other purposes, are +spacious. But its most gratifying feature, to one forcibly removed from +social intercourse, is its outlook. The windows command the Piazza +Garibaldi, which is the social centre of the town; it contains the +village post, the fountain, the tobacco shop, the washing-trough, and the +two rival cafés, the 'Independenza' and the 'Libertą.' The piazza is +always dirty and noisy--that goes without saying--but on Wednesday +morning at nine o'clock, it is peculiarly dirty and noisy. Wednesday is +Valedolmo's market day, and the square is so cluttered with booths and +hucksters and anxious buyers, that the peaceable pedestrian can scarcely +wedge his way through. The noise moreover is deafening; above the cries +of vendors and buyers rises a shriller chorus of bleating kids and +squealing pigs and braying donkeys. + +Mr. Wilder, red in the face and short of temper, pushed through the crowd +with little ceremony, prodding on the right with his umbrella, on the +left with his fan, and using his elbows vigorously. Constance, serenely +cool, followed in his wake, nodding here and there to a chance +acquaintance, smiling on every one; the spectacle to her held always +fresh interest. An image vendor close at her elbow insisted that she +should buy a Madonna and Bambina for fifty centesimi, or at least a San +Giuseppe for twenty-five. To her father's disgust she bought them both, +and presented them to two wide-eyed children who in bashful fascination +were dogging their footsteps. + +The appearance of the foreigners in the piazza caused such a ripple of +interest, that for a moment the bargaining was suspended. When the two +mounted the steps of the jail and jerked the bell, as many of the +bystanders as the steps would accommodate mounted with them. Nobody +answered the first ring, and Constance pulled again with a force which +sent a jangle of bells echoing through the interior. After a second's +wait--snortingly impatient on Mr. Wilder's part; he was being pressed +close by the none too clean citizens of Valedolmo--the door was opened a +very small crack by a frowsy jailoress. Her eye fell first upon the +crowd, and she was disposed to close it again; but in the act she caught +sight of the Signorina Americana dressed in white, smiling above a +bouquet of oleanders. Her eyes widened with astonishment. It was long +since such an apparition had presented itself at that door. She dropped a +curtsy, and the crack widened. + +'Your commands, signorina?' + +'We, wish to come in.' + +'But it is against the orders. Friday is visiting-day at thirteen +o'clock. If the signorina had a _permesso_ from the _sindaco_, why +then----' + +The signorina shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. She had no +_permesso_ and it was too much trouble to get one. Besides, the +_sindaco's_ office didn't open till ten o'clock. She glanced down; there +was a shining two-franc piece in her hand. Perhaps the jailoress would +allow them to step inside away from the crowd, and she would explain? + +This sounded reasonable; the door opened farther and they squeezed +through. It banged in the faces of the disappointed spectators, who +lingered hopefully a few moments longer, and then returned to their +bargaining. Inside the big damp stone-walled corridor Constance drew a +deep breath and smiled upon the jailoress; the jailoress smiled back. +Then as a preliminary skirmish, Constance presented the two-franc piece; +and the jailoress dropped a curtsy. + +'We have heard that Antonio, our donkey-driver, has been arrested for +deserting from the army and we have come to find out about it. My father, +the signore here'--she waved her hand toward Mr. Wilder--'likes Antonio +very much, and is quite sure that it is a mistake.' + +The woman's mouth hardened; she nodded with emphasis. + +'_Gią_. We have him, the man Antonio, if that is his name. He may not be +the deserter they search--I do not know--but if he is not the deserter he +is something else. You should have heard him last night, signorina, when +they brought him in. The things he said! They were in a foreign tongue; I +did not understand, but I _felt_. Also he kicked my husband--kicked him +quite hard so that he limps to-day. And the way he orders us about! You +would think he were a prince in his own palace and we were his servants. +Nothing is good enough for him. He objected to the room we gave him first +because it smelt of the cooking. He likes butter with his bread and hot +milk with his coffee. He cannot smoke the cigars which my husband bought +for him, and they cost three soldi apiece. And this morning'--her voice +rose shrilly as she approached the climax--'he called for a bath. It is +true, signorina, a _bath_. _Dio mio_, he wished me to carry the entire +village fountain to his room!' + +'Not really?' Constance opened her eyes in shocked surprise. 'But surely, +signora, you did not do it?' + +The woman blinked. + +'It would be impossible, signorina,' she contented herself with saying. + +Constance, with grave concern, translated the sum of Tony's enormities to +her father; and turned back to the jailoress apologetically. + +'My father is very much grieved that the man should have caused you so +much trouble. But he says, that if we could see him, we could persuade +him to be more reasonable. We talk his language, and can make him +understand.' + +The woman winked meaningly. + +'Eh--he pretends he cannot talk Italian, but he understands enough to ask +for what he wishes. I think--and the Signor-Lieutenant who ordered his +arrest thinks--that he is shamming.' + +'It was a lieutenant who ordered his arrest? Do you remember his +name--was it Carlo di Ferara?' + +'It might have been.' Her face was vague. + +'Of the cavalry?' + +'_Si_, signorina, of the cavalry--and very handsome.' + +Constance laughed. 'Well, the plot thickens! Dad, you must come to Tony's +hearing this afternoon, and put it tactfully to our friend the lieutenant +that we don't like to have our donkey-man snatched away without our +permission.' She turned back to the jailoress. 'And now, where is the +man? We should like to speak with him.' + +'It is against the orders, but perhaps--I have already permitted the head +waiter from the Hotel du Lac to carry him newspapers and cigarettes. He +says that the man Antonio is in reality an American nobleman from New +York, who merely plays at being a donkey-driver for diversion, and that +unless he is set at liberty immediately a ship will come with cannon, +but--we all know Gustavo, signorina.' + +Constance nodded and laughed. + +'You have reason! We all know Gustavo--may we go right up?' + +The jailoress called the jailor. They talked aside; the two-franc piece +was produced as evidence. The jailor with a great show of caution got out +a bunch of keys and motioned them to follow. Up two flights and down a +long corridor with peeling frescoes on the walls--nymphs and cupids and +garlands of roses; most incongruous decorations for a jail--at last they +paused before a heavy oak door. Their guide tried two wrong keys, swore +softly as each failed to turn, and finally with an exclamation of triumph +produced the right one. He swung the door wide and stepped back with a +bow. + +A large room was revealed, brick-floored and somewhat scanty as to +furniture, but with a view--an admirable view, if one did not mind it +being checked off into iron squares. The most conspicuous object in the +room, however, was its occupant, as he sat, in an essentially American +attitude, with his chair tipped back and his feet on the table. A cloud +of tobacco smoke and a wide-spread copy of a New York paper concealed him +from too impertinent gaze. He did not raise his head at the sound of the +opening door, but contented himself with growling---- + +'Confound your impudence! You might at least knock before you come in.' + +Constance laughed and advanced a hesitating step across the threshold. +Tony dropped his paper and sprang to his feet, his face, assuming a shade +of pink only less vivid than the oleanders. She shook her head +sorrowfully. + +'I don't need to tell you, Tony, how shocked we are to find you in such a +place. Our trust has been rudely shaken; we had not supposed we were +harbouring a deserter.' + +Mr. Wilder stepped forward and held out his hand; there was a twinkle in +his eye, which he struggled manfully to suppress. + +'Nonsense, Tony, we don't believe a word of it. You a deserter from the +Italian army? It's preposterous! Where are your naturalization papers?' + +'Thank you, Mr. Wilder, but I don't happen to have my papers with me--I +trust it won't be necessary to produce them. You see'--his glance rested +entirely on Mr. Wilder; he studiously overlooked Constance's +presence--'this Angelo Fresi, the fellow they are after, got into a +quarrel over a gambling debt and struck a superior officer. To avoid +being court-martialled he lit out; it happened a month ago in Milan and +they've been looking for him ever since. Now last night I had the +misfortune to tip Lieutenant Carlo di Ferara over into a ditch. The +matter was entirely accidental, and I regretted it very much. I, of +course, apologized. But what did the lieutenant do but take it into his +head that I, being an assaulter of superior officers, was, by a priori +reasoning, this Angelo Fresi in disguise. Accordingly'--he waved his hand +around the room--'you see me here.' + +'It's an imposition! Depriving an American citizen of his liberty on any +such trumped-up charge as that! I'll telegraph the consul in Milan. +I'll----' + +'Oh, don't trouble. I'll get off this afternoon; they've sent for some +one to identify me, and if he doesn't succeed, I don't see how they can +hold me. In the meantime, I'm comfortable enough.' + +Mr. Wilder's eye wandered about the room. 'H'm, it isn't bad for a jail! +Got everything you need--tobacco, papers?' What's this, New York _Sun_ +only ten days old?' He picked it up and plunged into the headlines. + +Constance turned from the window and glanced casually at Tony. + +'You didn't go to Austria after all?' + +'I was detained; I hope to get off to-morrow.' + +'Oh, before I forget it.' She removed the basket from her arm and set it +on the table. 'Here is some lemon jelly, Tony. I couldn't remember +whether one takes lemon jelly to prisoners or invalids--I've never known +any prisoners before, you see. But anyway, I hope you'll like it; +Elizabetta made it.' + +He bowed stiffly. 'I beg of you to convey my thanks to Elizabetta.' + +'Tony!' She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and glanced +apprehensively over her shoulder to see if the jailor were listening. 'If +by any chance they _should_ identify you as that deserter, just get word +to me and I will have Elizabetta bake you a veal pasty with a rope ladder +and a file inside. I would have had her bake it this morning, only +Wednesday is ironing-day at the villa, and she was so awfully busy----' + +'This is your innings,' Tony rejoined somewhat sulkily. 'I hope you'll +get all the entertainment you can out of the situation.' + +'Thank you, Tony, that's kind. Of course,' she added with a plaintive +note in her voice, 'this must be tiresome for you; but it is a pleasant +surprise for me. I was feeling very sad last night, Tony, at the thought +that you were going to Austria and that I should never, never see you any +more.' + +'I wish I knew whether there's any truth in that statement or not!' + +'Any truth! I realize well, that I might search the whole world over and +never find another donkey-man who sings such beautiful tenor, who wears +such lovely sashes and such becoming earrings. Why, Tony'--she took a +step nearer and her face assumed a look of consternation--'you've lost +your earrings!' + +He turned his back and walked to the window, where he stood moodily +staring at the market. Constance watched his squared shoulders dubiously +out of the corner of her eye; then she glanced momentarily into the hall +where the jailor was visible his face flattened against the bars of an +open window; and from him to her father, still deep in the columns of his +paper, oblivious to both time and place. She crossed to Tony and stood at +his side, peering down at the scene below. + +'I don't suppose it will interest you,' she said in an off-hand tone, her +eyes still intent on the crowd, 'but I got a letter this morning from a +young man who is stopping at the Sole d'Oro in Riva--a very rude letter, +I thought.' + +He whirled about. + +'You know!' + +'It struck me that the person who wrote it was in a temper and might +afterwards be sorry for having hurt my feelings, and so'--she raised her +eyes momentarily to his--'the invitation is still open.' + +'Tell me,' there was both entreaty and command in his tone, 'did you know +the truth before you wrote that letter?' + +'You mean, did I know whom I was inviting? Assuredly! Do you think it +would have been dignified to write such an informal invitation to a +person I did not know?' + +She turned away quickly and laid her hand on her father's shoulder. + +'Come, Dad, don't you think we ought to be going? Poor Tony wants to read +the paper himself.' + +Mr. Wilder came back to the jail and his companions with a start. + +'Oh, eh, yes, I think perhaps we ought. If they don't let you out this +afternoon, Tony, I'll make matters lively for 'em, and if there's +anything you need, send word by Gustavo--I'll send back later.' He fished +in his pockets and brought up a handful of cigars. 'Here's something +better than lemon jelly, and they're not from the tobacco shop in +Valedolmo either.' + +He dropped them on the table and turned toward the door; Constance +followed with a backward glance. + +'Good-bye, Tony; don't despair. Remember that it's always darkest before +the dawn, and that whatever others think, Costantina and I believe in +you. _We_ know that you are incapable of telling anything but the truth!' +She had almost reached the door when she became aware of the flowers in +her hand; she hurried back. 'Oh, I forgot! Costantina sent these with +her--with----' She faltered; her audacity did not go quite that far. + +Tony reached for them. 'With what?' he insisted. + +She laughed; and a second later the door closed behind her. He stood +staring at the door till he heard the key turn in the lock, then he +looked down at the flowers in his hand. A note was tied to the stems; his +fingers trembled as he worked with the knot. + +'_Caro Antonio mio_,' it commenced; he could read that. '_La sua +Costantina_,' it ended; he could read that. But between the two was an +elusive, tantalizing hiatus. He studied it and put it in his pocket and +took it out and studied it again. He was still puzzling over it half an +hour later when Gustavo came to inquire if the signore had need of +anything. + +Had he need of anything! He sent Gustavo flying to the stationer's in +search of an Italian-English dictionary. + +It was four o'clock in the afternoon and all the world--except +Constance--was taking a siesta. The _Farfalla_, anchored at the foot of +the water-steps in a blaze of sunshine, was dipping up and down in drowsy +harmony with the lapping waves; she was for the moment abandoned, +Giuseppe being engaged with a nap in the shade of the cypress trees at +the end of the drive. He was so very engaged that he did not hear the +sound of an approaching carriage, until the horse was pulled to a sudden +halt to avoid stepping on him. Giuseppe staggered sleepily to his feet +and rubbed his eyes. He saw a gentleman descend, a gentleman clothed as +for a wedding, in a frock coat and a white waistcoat, in shining hat and +pearl grey gloves and a boutonničre of oleander. Having paid the driver +and dismissed the carriage, the gentleman fumbled in his pocket for his +card-case. Giuseppe hurrying forward with a polite bow, stopped suddenly +and blinked. He fancied that he must still be dreaming; he rubbed his +eyes and stared again, but he found the second inspection more +confounding than the first. The gentleman looked back imperturbably, no +slightest shade of recognition in his glance, unless a gleam of amusement +far, far down in the depths of his eye might be termed recognition. He +extracted a card with grave deliberation and handed it to his companion. + +'_Voglio vedere la Signorina Costantina_,' he remarked. + +The tone, the foreign accent, were both reminiscent of many a friendly +though halting conversation. Giuseppe stared again, appealingly, but the +gentleman did not help him out; on the contrary he repeated his request +in a slightly sharpened tone. + +'_Si, signore_,' Giuseppe stammered. '_Prego di verire. La signorina č +nel giardino._' + +He started ahead toward the garden, looking behind at every third step to +make sure that the gentleman was still following, that he was not merely +a figment of his own sleepy senses. Their direction was straight toward +the parapet where, on an historic wash-day, the signorina had sat beside +a row of dangling stockings. She was sitting there now, dressed in white, +the oleander tree above her head enveloping her in a glowing and fragrant +shade. So occupied was she with a dreamy contemplation of the mountains +across the lake that she did not hear footsteps until Giuseppe paused +before her and presented the card. She glanced from this to the visitor, +and extended a friendly hand. + +'Mr. Hilliard! Good afternoon.' + +There was nothing of surprise in her greeting; evidently she did not find +the visit extraordinary. Giuseppe stared, his mouth and eyes at their +widest, until the signorina dismissed him; then he turned and walked +back--staggered back almost--never before not even late at night on +Corpus Domini day, had he had such overwhelming reason to doubt his +senses. + +Constance turned to the visitor, and swept him with an appreciative +glance, her eye lingering a second on the oleander in his buttonhole. + +'Perhaps you can tell me, is Tony out of jail? I am so anxious to know.' + +He shook his head. + +'Found guilty and sentenced for life; you'll never see him again.' + +'Ah; poor Tony! I shall miss him.' + +'I shall miss him too; we've had very good times together.' + +Constance suddenly became aware that her guest was still standing; she +moved along and made place on the wall. 'Won't you sit down? Oh, excuse +me,' she added with an anxious glance at his clothes, 'I'm afraid you'll +get dusty; it would be better to bring a chair.' She nodded toward the +terrace. + +He sat down beside her. + +'I am only too honoured; the last time I came you did not invite me to +sit on the wall.' + +'I am sorry if I appeared inhospitable, but you came so unexpectedly, Mr. +Hilliard.' + +'Why "Mr. Hilliard"? When you wrote you called me "dear Jerry."' + +'That was a slip of the pen; I hope you will excuse it.' + +'When I wrote I called you "Miss Wilder"; that was a slip of the pen too. +What I meant to say was, "dear Constance."' + +She let this pass without comment. + +'I have an apology to make.' + +'Yes?' + +'Once, a long time ago, I insulted you; I called you a kid. I take it +back; I swallow the word. You were never a kid.' + +'Oh,' she dimpled, and then, 'I don't believe you remember a thing about +it?' + +'Connie Wilder, a little girl in a blue sailor suit, and two nice fat +braids of yellow hair dangling down her back with red bows on the +ends--very convenient for pulling.' + +'You are making that up. You don't remember.' + +'Ah, but I do! And as for the racket you were making that afternoon, it +was, if you will permit the expression, _infernal_. I remember it +distinctly; I was trying to cram for a math. exam.' + +'It wasn't I. It was your bad little sisters and brothers and cousins.' + +'It was you, dear Constance. I saw you with my own eyes; I heard you with +my own ears.' + +'Bobbie Hilliard was pulling my hair.' + +'I apologize on his behalf, and with that we will close the incident. +There is something much more important which I wish to talk about.' + +'Have you seen Nannie?' She offered this hastily, not to allow a pause. + +'Yes, dear Constance, I have seen Nannie.' + +'Call me "Miss Wilder," please.' + +'I'll be hanged if I will! You've been calling me Tony and Jerry and +anything else you chose ever since you knew me--and long before for the +matter of that.' + +Constance waived the point. + +'Was she glad to see you?' + +'She's always glad to see me.' + +'Oh, don't be so provoking! Give me the particulars. Was she surprised? +How did you explain the telegrams and letters and Gustavo's stories? I +should think the Hotel Sole d'Oro at Riva and the walking trip with the +Englishman must have been difficult.' + +'Not in the least; I told the truth.' + +'The truth! Not all of it?' + +'Every word.' + +'How could you?' There was reproach in her accent. + +'It did come hard; I'm a little out of practice.' + +'Did you tell her about--about me?' + +'I had to, Constance. When it came to the necessity of squaring all of +Gustavo's yarns, my imagination gave out. Anyway, I had to tell her out +of self-defence; she was so superior. She said it was just like a man to +muddle everything up. Here I'd been ten days in the same town with the +most charming girl in the world, and hadn't so much as discovered her +name; whereas if _she_ had been managing it---- You see how it was; I had +to let her know that I was quite capable of taking care of myself without +any interference from her. I even--anticipated a trifle.' + +'How?' + +'She said she was engaged. I told her I was too.' + +'Indeed!' Constance's tone was remote. 'To whom?' + +'The most charming girl in the world.' + +'May I ask her name?' + +He laid his hand on his heart in a gesture reminiscent of Tony. +'Costantina.' + +'Oh! I congratulate you.' + +'Thank you--I hoped you would.' + +She looked away gravely toward the Maggiore rising from the midst of its +clouds. His gaze followed hers, and for three minutes there was silence. +Then he leaned toward her. + +'Constance, will you marry me?' + +'No!' + +A pause of four minutes during which Constance stared steadily at the +mountain. At the end of that time her curiosity overcame her dignity; she +glanced at him sidewise. He was watching her with a smile, partly of +amusement, partly of something else. + +'Dear Constance, haven't you had enough of play, are you never going to +grow up? You are such a kid!' + +She turned back to the mountain. + +'I haven't known you long enough,' she threw over her shoulder. + +'Six years!' + +'One week and two days.' + +'Through three incarnations.' + +She laughed a delicious rippling laugh of surrender, and slipped her hand +into his. + +'You don't deserve it, Jerry, after the fib you told your sister, but I +think--on the whole--I will.' + +Neither noticed that Mr. Wilder had stepped out from the house and was +strolling down the cypress alley in their direction. He rounded the +corner in front of the parapet, and as his eye fell upon them, came to a +startled halt. The young man failed to let go of her hand, and Constance +glanced at her father with an apprehensive blush. + +'Here's--Tony, Dad. He's out of jail.' + +'I see he is.' + +She slipped down from the wall and brought Jerry with her. + +'We'd like your parental blessing, please. I'm going to marry him, but +don't look so worried. He isn't really a donkey-man, nor a Magyar, nor +an orphan, nor an organ-grinder, nor--any of the things he has said he +was. He is just a plain American man and an _awful liar_!' + +The young man held out his hand and Mr. Wilder shook it. + +'Jerry,' he said, 'I don't need to tell you how pleased----' + +'"Jerry!"' echoed Constance. 'Father, you knew?' + +'Long before you did, my dear.' There was a suggestion of triumph in Mr. +Wilder's tone. + +'Jerry, you told.' There was reproach, scorn, indignation in hers. + +Jerry spread out his hands in a gesture of repudiation. + +'What could I do? He asked my name the day we climbed Monte Maggiore; +naturally, I couldn't tell him a lie.' + +'Then we haven't fooled anybody. How unromantic!' + +'Oh, yes,' said Jerry, 'we've fooled lots of people. Gustavo doesn't +understand, and Giuseppe, you noticed, looked rather dazed. Then there's +Lieutenant Carlo di Ferara----' + +'Oh!' said Constance, her face suddenly blank. + +'You can explain to him now,' said her father, peering through the trees. + +A commotion had suddenly arisen on the terrace--the rumble of wheels, +the confused mingling of voices. Constance and Jerry looked too. They +found the yellow omnibus of the Hotel du Lac, its roof laden with +luggage, drawn up at the end of the driveway, and Mrs. Eustace and Nannie +on the point of descending. The centre of the terrace was already +occupied by Lieutenant di Ferara, who, with heels clicked together and +white gloved hands at salute, was in the act of achieving a military bow. +Miss Hazel fluttering from the door, in one breath welcomed the guests, +presented the lieutenant, and ordered Giuseppe to convey the luggage +upstairs. Then she glanced questioningly about the terrace. + +'I thought Constance and her father were here--Giuseppe!' + +Giuseppe dropped his end of a trunk and approached. Miss Hazel handed him +the lieutenant's card. 'The signorina and the signore--in the garden, I +think.' + +Giuseppe advanced upon the garden. Jerry's face, at the sight, became as +blank as Constance's. The two cast upon each other a glance of guilty +terror, and from this looked wildly behind for a means of escape. Their +eyes simultaneously lighted on the break in the garden wall. Jerry sprang +up and pulled Constance after him. On the top, she gathered her skirts +together preparatory to jumping, then turned back for a moment toward her +father. + +'Dad,' she called in a stage whisper, 'you go and meet him like a +gentleman. Tell him you are very sorry, but your daughter is not at home +to-day.' + +The two conspirators scrambled down on the other side; and Mr. Wilder, +with a sigh, dutifully stepped forward to greet the guests. + + + + + +Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner, Frome and London + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Jerry, by Jean Webster + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JERRY *** + +***** This file should be named 20357-8.txt or 20357-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/3/5/20357/ + +Produced by David Clarke, Louise Pryor and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Jerry + +Author: Jean Webster + +Release Date: January 14, 2007 [EBook #20357] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JERRY *** + + + + +Produced by David Clarke, Louise Pryor and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 382px;"> +<img src="images/titlepage.png" width="382" height="650" + alt="title page" + title="Title page" /> +</div> + +<h1 class="smcap">Jerry</h1> + + +<div class="boxed biggap"> +<p class="center"><i>BY THE SAME AUTHOR.</i><br /> +UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME</p> + +<p class="indent3">Daddy-Long-Legs.<br /> +Just Patty.<br /> +Patty and Priscilla.<br /> +The Four Pools Mystery.<br /> +The Wheat Princess.<br /> +Dear Enemy.<br /> +Much Ado about Peter.</p> + +<p class="center smcap">London: HODDER & STOUGHTON.</p> +</div> + + +<h1 class="biggap">JERRY</h1> + +<p class="large center">By<br /> +JEAN WEBSTER<br /> +<span class="little">Author of “Dear Enemy,” etc</span></p> + +<p class="center gap">HODDER AND STOUGHTON<br /> +LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO</p> + +<p class="biggap center littler">Copyright, 1907, by<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Century Co</span>.</p> +<hr class="squashed" /> +<p class="center littler">Copyright, 1906, 1907, by<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Crowell Publishing Company</span>. +</p> + + + +<h2> +<span class="pagebreak" title="9"> </span><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a> +CHAPTER I</h2> + + +<p>The courtyard of the Hotel du Lac, furnished with half a dozen tables and +chairs, a red and green parrot chained to a perch, and a shady little +arbour covered with vines, is a pleasant enough place for morning coffee, +but decidedly too sunny for afternoon tea. It was close upon four of a +July day, when Gustavo, his inseparable napkin floating from his arm, +emerged from the cool dark doorway of the house and scanned the burning +vista of tables and chairs. He would never, under ordinary circumstances, +have interrupted his siesta for the mere delivery of a letter; but this +particular letter was addressed to the young American man, and young +American men, as every head waiter knows, are an unreasonably impatient +lot. The courtyard was empty, as he might have foreseen, and he was +turning with a patient sigh towards the long arbour that led to the lake, +when the sound of a rustling paper in the summer-house deflected his +course. He approached the doorway and looked inside.</p> + +<p>The young American man, in white flannels with a red guide-book +protruding from his pocket, was comfortably stretched +<span class="pagebreak" title="10"> </span><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a> + in a lounging +chair engaged with a cigarette and a copy of the Paris <i>Herald</i>. He +glanced up with a yawn—excusable under the circumstances—but as his eye +fell upon the letter he sprang to his feet.</p> + +<p>‘Hello, Gustavo! Is that for me?’</p> + +<p>Gustavo bowed.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Ecco</i>! She is at last arrive, ze lettair for which you haf so moch +weesh.’ He bowed a second time and presented it. ‘Meestair Jayreen +Ailyar!’</p> + +<p>The young man laughed.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t wish to hurt your feelings, Gustavo, but I’m not sure I should +answer if my eyes were shut.’</p> + +<p>He picked up the letter, glanced at the address to make sure—the name +was Jerymn Hilliard, Jr.—and ripped it open with an exaggerated sigh of +relief. Then he glanced up and caught Gustavo’s expression. Gustavo came +of a romantic race; there was a gleam of sympathetic interest in his eye.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, you needn’t look so knowing! I suppose you think this is a +love-letter? Well it’s not. It is, since you appear to be interested, a +letter from my sister informing me that they will arrive to-night, and +that we will pull out for Riva by the first boat to-morrow morning. Not +that I want to leave you, Gustavo, but—Oh thunder!’</p> + +<p>He finished the reading in a frowning silence while the waiter stood at +polite attention, +<span class="pagebreak" title="11"> </span><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a> + a shade of anxiety in his eye—there was usually +anxiety in his eye when it rested on Jerymn Hilliard, Jr. One could never +foresee what the young man would call for next. Yesterday he had rung the +bell and demanded a partner to play lawn tennis, as if the hotel kept +partners laid away in drawers like so many sheets.</p> + +<p>He crumpled up the letter and stuffed it in his pocket.</p> + +<p>‘I say, Gustavo, what do you think of this? They’re going to stay in +Lucerne till the tenth—that’s next week—and they hope I won’t mind +waiting; it will be nice for me to have a rest. A <i>rest</i>, man, and I’ve +already spent three days in Valedolmo!’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signore, you will desire ze same room?’ was as much as Gustavo +thought.</p> + +<p>‘Ze same room? Oh, I suppose so.’</p> + +<p>He sank back into his chair and plunged his hands into his pockets with +an air of sombre resignation. The waiter hovered over him, divided +between a desire to return to his siesta, and a sympathetic interest in +the young man’s troubles. Never before in the history of his connexion +with the Hotel du Lac had Gustavo experienced such a munificent, +companionable, expansive, entertaining, thoroughly unique and +inexplicable guest. Even the fact that he was American scarcely accounted +for everything.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="12"> </span><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a> +The young man raised his head and eyed his companion gloomily.</p> + +<p>‘Gustavo, have you a sister?’</p> + +<p>‘A sister?’ Gustavo’s manner was uncomprehending but patient. ‘<i>Si</i>, +signore, I have eight sister.’</p> + +<p>‘Eight! Merciful saints. How do you manage to be so cheerful?’</p> + +<p>‘Tree is married, signore, one uvver is betrofed, one is in a convent, +one is dead, and two is babies.’</p> + +<p>‘I see—they’re pretty well disposed of; but the babies will grow up, +Gustavo, and as for that betrothed one, I should still be a little +nervous if I were you; you can never be sure they are going to stay +betrothed. I hope she doesn’t spend her time chasing over the map of +Europe making appointments with you to meet her in unheard of little +mountain villages where the only approach to Christian reading matter is +a Paris <i>Herald</i> four days old, and then doesn’t turn up to keep her +appointments?’</p> + +<p>Gustavo blinked. His supple back achieved another bow.</p> + +<p>‘Sank you,’ he murmured.</p> + +<p>‘And you don’t happen to have an aunt?’</p> + +<p>‘An aunt, signore?’ There was vagueness in his tone.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, Gustavo, an aunt. A female relative who reads you like an open +book, who sees your faults and skips your virtues, +<span class="pagebreak" title="13"> </span><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a> + who remembers how +dear and good and obliging your father was at your age, who hoped great +things of you when you were a baby, who had intended to make you her heir +but has about decided to endow an orphan asylum—have you, Gustavo, by +chance an aunt?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signore.’</p> + +<p>‘I do not think you grasp my question. An <i>aunt</i>—the sister of your +father, or perhaps your mother.’</p> + +<p>A gleam of illumination swept over Gustavo’s troubled features.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Ecco</i>! You would know if I haf a <i>zia</i>—a aunt—yes, zat is it. A aunt. +<i>Sicuramente</i>, signore, I haf ten—leven aunt.’</p> + +<p>‘Eleven aunts! Before such a tragedy I am speechless; you need say no +more, Gustavo, from this moment we are friends.’</p> + +<p>He held out his hand. Gustavo regarded it dazedly; then, since it seemed +to be expected, he gingerly presented his own. The result was a shining +newly-minted two-lire piece. He pocketed it with a fresh succession of +bows.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Grazie tanto</i>! Has ze signore need of anysing?’</p> + +<p>‘Have I need of anysing?’ There was reproach, indignation, disgust in the +young man’s tone. ‘How can you ask such a question, Gustavo? Here am I, +three days in Valedolmo, with seven more stretching before me. I have +plenty of towels and soap and soft-boiled eggs, if +<span class="pagebreak" title="14"> </span><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a> + that is what you +mean; but a man’s spirit cannot be nourished on soap and soft-boiled +eggs. What I need is food for the mind—diversion, distraction, +amusement—no, Gustavo, you needn’t offer me the Paris <i>Herald</i> again. I +already know by heart the list of guests in every hotel in Switzerland.’</p> + +<p>‘Ah, it is diversion zat you wish? Have you seen zat ver’ beautiful Luini +in ze chapel of San Bartolomeo? It is four hundred years old.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, Gustavo, I have seen the Luini in the chapel of San Bartolomeo. I +derived all the pleasure to be got out of it the first afternoon I came.’</p> + +<p>‘Ze garden of Prince Sartonio-Crevelli? Has ze signore seen ze cedar of +Lebanon in ze garden of ze prince?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, Gustavo, the signore has seen the cedar of Lebanon in the garden of +the prince, also the ilex tree two hundred years old and the india-rubber +plant from South America. They are extremely beautiful, but they don’t +last a week.’</p> + +<p>‘Have you swimmed in ze lake?’</p> + +<p>‘It is lukewarm, Gustavo.’</p> + +<p>The waiter’s eyes roved anxiously. They lighted on the lunette of +shimmering water and purple mountains visible at the farther end of the +arbour.</p> + +<p>‘Zere is ze view,’ he suggested humbly. ‘Ze view from ze water front is +consider ver’ beautiful, ver’ nice. Many foreigners +<span class="pagebreak" title="15"> </span><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a> + come entirely for +him. You can see Lago di Garda, Monte Brione, Monte Baldo wif ze ruin +castle of ze Scaliger, Monte Maggiore, ze Altissimo di Nago, ze snow +cover peak of Monte——’</p> + +<p>Mr. Jerymn Hilliard, Jr., stopped him with a gesture.</p> + +<p>‘That will do; I read Baedeker myself, and I saw them all the first night +I came. You must know at your age, Gustavo, that a man can’t enjoy a view +by himself; it takes two for that sort of thing.—Yes, the truth is that +I am lonely. You can see yourself to what straits I am pushed for +conversation. If I had your command of language, now, I would talk to the +German Alpine climbers.’</p> + +<p>An idea flashed over Gustavo’s features.</p> + +<p>‘Ah, zat is it! Why does not ze signore climb mountains? Ver’ helful; +ver’ diverting. I find guide.’</p> + +<p>‘You needn’t bother. Your guide would be Italian, and it’s too much of a +strain to talk to a man all day in dumb show.’ He folded his arms with a +weary sigh. ‘A week of Valedolmo! An eternity!’</p> + +<p>Gustavo echoed the sigh. Though he did not entirely comprehend the +trouble, still he was of a generously sympathetic nature.</p> + +<p>‘It is a pity,’ he observed casually, ‘zat you are not acquaint wif ze +Signor Americano who lives in Villa Rosa. He also finds Valedolmo +undiverting. He +<span class="pagebreak" title="16"> </span><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a> + comes—but often—to talk wif me. He has fear of +forgetting how to spik Angleesh, he says.’</p> + +<p>The young man opened his eyes.</p> + +<p>‘What are you talking about—a Signor Americano here in Valedolmo?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Sicuramente</i>, in zat rose-colour villa wif ze cypress trees and ze +<i>terrazzo</i> on ze lake. His daughter, la Signorina Costantina, she live +wif him—ver’ young, ver’ beautiful’—Gustavo rolled his eyes and clasped +his hands—‘beautiful like ze angels in Paradise—and she spik Italia +like I spik Angleesh.’</p> + +<p>Jerymn Hilliard, Jr., unfolded his arms and sat up alertly.</p> + +<p>‘You mean to tell me that you had an American family up your sleeve all +this time and never said a word about it?’ His tone was stern.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Scusi</i>, signore, I have not known zat you have ze plaisir of zer +acquaintance.’</p> + +<p>‘The pleasure of their acquaintance! Good heavens, Gustavo, when one +shipwrecked man meets another shipwrecked man on a desert island must +they be introduced before they can speak?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signore.’</p> + +<p>‘And why, may I ask, should an intelligent American family be living in +Valedolmo?’</p> + +<p>‘I do not know, signore. I have heard ze Signor Papa’s healf was no good, +and ze doctors in Americk’ zay say to heem, “You need change, to breave +ze beautiful +<span class="pagebreak" title="17"> </span><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a> + climate of Italia.” And he say, “All right, I go to +Valedolmo.” It is small, signore, but ver’ <i>famosa</i>. Oh, yes, <i>molto +famosa</i>. In ze autumn and ze spring foreigners come from all ze +world—Angleesh, French, German—<i>tutti</i>! Ze Hotel du Lac is full. Every +day we turn peoples away.’</p> + +<p>‘So! I seem to have struck the wrong season.—But about this American +family, what’s their name?’</p> + +<p>‘La familia Veeldair from Nuovo York.’</p> + +<p>‘Veeldair.’ He shook his head. ‘That’s not American, Gustavo, at least +when you say it. But never mind, if they come from New York it’s all +right. How many are there—just two?’</p> + +<p>‘But no! Ze papa and ze signorina and ze—ze—’ he rolled his eyes in +search of the word—‘ze aunt!’</p> + +<p>‘Another aunt! The sky appears to be raining aunts to-day. What does she +do for amusement—the signorina who is beautiful as the angels?’</p> + +<p>Gustavo spread out his hands.</p> + +<p>‘Valedolmo, signore, is on ze frontier. It is—what you say—garrison +<i>città</i>. Many soldiers, many officers—captains, lieutenants, wif +uniforms and swords. Zay take tea on ze <i>terrazzo</i> wif ze Signor Papa and +ze Signora Aunt, and most <i>specialmente</i> wif ze Signorina Costantina. Ze +Signor Papa say he come for his healf, but if you ask me, I sink maybe he +come to marry his daughter.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="18"> </span><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a> +‘I see! And yet, Gustavo, American papas are generally not so keen as you +might suppose about marrying their daughters to foreign captains and +lieutenants even if they have got uniforms and swords. I shouldn’t be +surprised if the Signor Papa were just a little nervous over the +situation. It seems to me there might be an opening for a likely young +fellow speaking the English language, even if he hasn’t a uniform and +sword. How does he strike you?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signore.’</p> + +<p>‘I’m glad you agree with me. It is now five minutes past four; do you +think the American family would be taking a siesta?’</p> + +<p>‘I do not know, signore.’ Gustavo’s tone was still patient.</p> + +<p>‘And whereabouts is the rose-coloured villa with the terrace on the +lake?’</p> + +<p>‘It is a quarter of a hour beyond ze Porta Sant’ Antonio. If ze gate is +shut you ring at ze bell and Giuseppe will open. But ze road is ver’ hot +and ver’ dusty. It is more cooler to take ze paf by ze lake. Straight to +ze left for ten minutes and step over ze wall; it is broken in zat place +and quite easy.’</p> + +<p>‘Thank you, that is a wise suggestion; I shall step over the wall by all +means.’ He jumped to his feet and looked about for his hat. ‘You turn to +the left and straight ahead for ten minutes? Good-bye +<span class="pagebreak" title="19"> </span><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a> + then till dinner. +I go in search of the Signorina Costantina who is beautiful as the angels +in Paradise, and who lives in a rose-coloured villa set in a cypress +grove on the shores of Lake Garda—not a bad setting for romance, is it, +Gustavo?—Dinner, I believe, is at seven o’clock?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signore, at seven; and would you like veal cooked Milanese +fashion?’</p> + +<p>‘Nothing would please me more. We have only had veal Milanese fashion +five times since I came.’</p> + +<p>He waved his hand jauntily and strolled whistling down the arbour that +led to the lake. Gustavo looked after him and shook his head. Then he +took out the two-lire piece and rang it on the table. The metal rang +true. He shrugged his shoulders and turned back indoors to order the +veal.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + + +<p>The terrace of Villa Rosa juts out into the lake, bordered on three sides +by a stone parapet, and shaded above by a yellow-ochre awning. Masses of +oleanders hang over the wall and drop pink petals into the blue waters +below. As a study in colour the terrace is perfect, but, like the +courtyard of the Hotel du Lac, decidedly too hot for mid-afternoon. To +the right of the terrace, however, is a shady garden set in alleys of +cypress trees, and separated from the lake by a strip of beach +<span class="pagebreak" title="20"> </span><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a> + and a low +balustrade. There could be no better resting-place for a warm afternoon.</p> + +<p>It was close upon four—five minutes past to be accurate—and the usual +afternoon quiet that enveloped the garden had fled before the garrulous +advent of four girls. Three of them, with black eyes and blacker hair, +were kneeling on the beach thumping and scrubbing a pile of linen. In +spite of their chatter they were working busily, and the grass beyond the +water-wall was already white with bleaching sheets, while a lace-trimmed +petticoat fluttered from a near-by oleander, and rows of silk stockings +stretched the length of the parapet. The most undeductive observer would +have guessed by this time that the pink villa, visible through the trees, +contained no such modern conveniences as stationary tubs.</p> + +<p>The fourth girl, with grey eyes and yellow-brown hair, was sitting at +ease on the balustrade, fanning herself with a wide-brimmed hat and +dangling her feet, clad in white tennis shoes, over the edge. She wore a +suit of white linen cut sailor fashion, low at the throat and with +sleeves rolled to the elbows. She looked very cool and comfortable and +free as she talked, with the utmost friendliness, to the three girls +below. Her Italian, to an unaccustomed ear, was exactly as glib as +theirs.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="21"> </span><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a> +The washer-girls were dressed in the gayest of peasant clothes—green and +scarlet petticoats, flowered kerchiefs, coral beads and flashing +earrings; you would have to go far into the hills in these degenerate +days before meeting their match on an Italian highway. But the girl on +the wall, who was actual if not titular ruler of the domain of Villa +Rosa, possessed a keen eye for effect; and—she plausibly argued—since +one must have washer-women about, why not, in the name of all that is +beautiful, have them in harmony with tradition and the landscape? +Accordingly, she designed and purchased their costumes herself.</p> + +<p>There drifted presently into sight from around the little promontory that +hid the village a blue and white boat with yellow lateen sails. She was +propelled gondolier fashion, for the wind was a mere breath, by a +picturesque youth in a suit of dark blue with white sash and flaring +collar—the hand of the girl on the wall was here visible also.</p> + +<p>The boat fluttering in toward shore, looked like a giant butterfly; and +her name, emblazoned in gold on her prow, was, appropriately, the +<i>Farfalla</i>. Earlier in the season, with a green hull and a dingy brown +sail, she had been, prosaically enough, the <i>Maria</i>. But since the advent +of the girl all this had been changed. The <i>Farfalla</i> dropped her yellow +wings +<span class="pagebreak" title="22"> </span><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a> + with the air of a salute, and lighted at the foot of the +water-steps under the terrace. The girl on the parapet leaned forward +eagerly.</p> + +<p>‘Did you get any mail, Giuseppe?’ she called.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina.’ He scrambled up the steps and presented a copy of the +London <i>Times</i>.</p> + +<p>She received it with a shrug. Clearly, she felt little interest in the +London <i>Times</i>. Giuseppe took himself back to his boat and commenced +fussing about its fittings, dusting the seats, plumping up the cushions, +with an air of absorption which deceived nobody. The signorina watched +him a moment with amused comprehension, then she called peremptorily—</p> + +<p>‘Giuseppe, you know you must spade the garden border.’</p> + +<p>Poor Giuseppe, in spite of his nautical costume, was man of all work. He +glanced dismally toward the garden border which lay basking in the +sunshine under the wall that divided Villa Rosa from the rest of the +world. It contained every known flower which blossoms in July in the +kingdom of Italy, from camellias and hydrangeas to heliotrope and +wall-flowers. Its spading was a complicated business and it lay too far +off to permit of conversation. Giuseppe was not only a lazy, but also a +social soul.</p> + +<p>‘Signorina,’ he suggested, ‘would you not like a sail?’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="23"> </span><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a> +She shook her head. ‘There is not wind enough and it is too hot and too +sunny.’</p> + +<p>‘But yes, there’s a wind, and cool—when you get out on the lake. I will +put up the awning, signorina, the sun shall not touch you.’</p> + +<p>She continued to shake her head and her eyes wandered suggestively to the +hydrangeas, but Giuseppe still made a feint of preoccupation. Not being a +cruel mistress, she dropped the subject, and turned back to her +conversation with the washer-girls. They were discussing—a pleasant +topic for a sultry summer afternoon—the probable content of Paradise. +The three girls were of the opinion that it was made up of warm sunshine +and cool shade, of flowers and singing birds and sparkling waters, of +blue skies and cloud-capped mountains—not unlike, it will be observed, +the very scene which at the moment stretched before them. In so much they +were all agreed, but there were several debatable points. Whether the +stones were made of gold, and whether the houses were not gold too, and, +that being the case, whether it would not hurt your eyes to look at them. +Marietta declared, blasphemously, as the others thought, that she +preferred a simple grey stone villa or at most one of pink stucco, to all +the golden edifices that Paradise contained.</p> + +<p>It was by now fifteen minutes past four, and a spectator had arrived, +though none +<span class="pagebreak" title="24"> </span><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a> + of the five were aware of his presence. The spectator was +standing on the wall above the garden border examining with appreciation +the idyllic scene below him, and with most particular appreciation, the +dainty white-clad person of the girl on the balustrade. He was +wondering—anxiously—how he might make his presence known. For no very +tangible reason he had suddenly become conscious that the matter would be +easier if he carried in his pocket a letter of introduction. The purlieus +of Villa Rosa in no wise resembled a desert island; and in the face of +that very fluent Italian, the suspicion was forcing itself upon him that, +after all, the mere fact of a common country was not a sufficient bond of +union. He had definitely decided to withdraw, when the matter was taken +from his hands.</p> + +<p>The wall—as Gustavo had pointed out—was broken; it was owing to this +fact that he had been so easily able to climb it. Now, as he stealthily +turned, preparing to re-descend in the direction whence he had come, the +loose stone beneath his foot slipped and he slipped with it. Five +startled pairs of eyes were turned in his direction. What they saw, was a +young man in flannels suddenly throw up his arms, slide into an azalea +bush, from this to the balustrade, and finally land on all fours on the +narrow strip of beach, a shower of pink petals and crumbling masonry +<span class="pagebreak" title="25"> </span><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a> +falling about him. A momentary silence followed; then the washer-girls, +making sure that he was not injured, broke into a shrill chorus of +laughter, while the <i>Farfalla</i> rocked under impact of Giuseppe’s mirth. +The girl on the wall alone remained grave.</p> + +<p>The young man picked himself up, restored his guide-book to his pocket, +and blushingly stepped forward, hat in hand, to make an apology. One knee +bore a splash of mud, and his tumbled hair was sprinkled with azalea +blossoms.</p> + +<p>‘I beg your pardon,’ he stammered, ‘I didn’t mean to come so suddenly; +I’m afraid I broke your wall.’</p> + +<p>The girl dismissed the matter with a polite gesture.</p> + +<p>‘It was already broken,’ and then she waited with an air of grave +attention until he should state his errand.</p> + +<p>‘I—I came——’ He paused and glanced about vaguely; he could not at the +moment think of any adequate reason to account for his coming.</p> + +<p>‘Yes?’ Her eyes studied him with what appeared at once a cool and an +amused scrutiny. He felt himself growing red beneath it.</p> + +<p>‘Can I do anything for you?’ she prompted with the kind of desire of +putting him at his ease.</p> + +<p>‘Thank you——’ He grasped at the first idea that presented itself. ‘I’m +stopping +<span class="pagebreak" title="26"> </span><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a> +at the Hotel du Lac, and Gustavo, you know, told me there was a +villa somewhere around here that belongs to Prince Someone or Other. If +you ring at the gate and give the gardener two francs and a visiting +card, he will let you walk around and look at the trees.’</p> + +<p>‘I see!’ said the girl, ‘and so now you are looking for the gate?’ Her +tone suggested that she suspected him of trying to avoid both it and the +two francs. ‘Prince Sartorio-Crevelli’s villa is about half a mile +farther on.’</p> + +<p>‘Ah, thank you,’ he bowed a second time, and then added out of the +desperate need of saying something, ‘There’s a cedar of Lebanon in it and +an india-rubber plant from South America.’</p> + +<p>‘Indeed!’</p> + +<p>She continued to observe him with polite interest, though she made no +move to carry on the conversation.</p> + +<p>‘You—are an American?’ he asked at length.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, yes,’ she agreed easily. ‘Gustavo knows that.’</p> + +<p>He shifted his weight.</p> + +<p>‘I am an American too,’ he observed.</p> + +<p>‘Really?’ The girl leaned forward and examined him more closely, an +innocent, candid, wholly detached look in her eyes. ‘From your appearance +I should have said you were German—most of the foreigners who visit +Valedolmo are German.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="27"> </span><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a> +‘Well, I’m not,’ he said shortly. ‘I’m American.’</p> + +<p>‘It is a pity my father is not at home,’ she returned, ‘<i>he</i> enjoys +meeting Americans.’</p> + +<p>A gleam of anger replaced the embarrassment in the young man’s eyes. He +glanced about for a dignified means of escape; they had him pretty well +penned in. Unless he wished to reclimb the wall—and he did not—he must +go by the terrace, which retreat was cut off by the washer-women, or by +the parapet, already occupied by the girl in white and the washing. He +turned abruptly and his elbow brushed a stocking to the ground.</p> + +<p>He stooped to pick it up and then he blushed still a shade deeper.</p> + +<p>‘This is washing day,’ observed the girl with a note of apology. She rose +to her feet and stood on the top of the parapet while she beckoned to +Giuseppe, then she turned and looked down upon the young man with an +expression of frank amusement. ‘I hope you will enjoy the cedar of +Lebanon and the india-rubber tree. Good afternoon.’</p> + +<p>She jumped to the ground and crossed to the water-steps, where Giuseppe, +with a radiant smile, was steadying the boat against the landing. She +settled herself comfortably among the cushions and then for a moment +glanced back towards shore.</p> + +<p>‘You would better go out by the gate,’ she called. ‘The wall on the +farther side +<span class="pagebreak" title="28"> </span><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a> + is harder to climb than the one you came in by; and +besides, it has broken glass on the top.’</p> + +<p>Giuseppe raised the yellow sail and the <i>Farfalla</i>, with a graceful dip, +glided out to sea. The young man stood eyeing its progress revengefully. +Now that the girl was out of hearing, a number of pointed things occurred +to him which he might have said. His thoughts were interrupted by a fresh +giggle from behind, and he found that the three washer-girls were +laughing at him.</p> + +<p>‘Your mistress’s manners are not the best in the world,’ said he +severely, ‘and I am obliged to add that yours are no better.’</p> + +<p>They giggled again, though there was no malice behind their humour; it +was merely that they found the lack of a language in common a +mirth-provoking circumstance. Marietta, with a flash of black eyes, +murmured something very kindly in Italian, as she shook out a linen +sailor suit—the exact twin of the one that had gone to sea—and spread +it on the wall to dry.</p> + +<p>The young man did not linger for further words. Setting his hat firmly on +his head, he vaulted the parapet and strode off down the cypress alley +that stretched before him; he passed the pink villa without a glance. At +the gate he stood aside to admit a horse and rider. The horse was +<span class="pagebreak" title="29"> </span><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a> +prancing in spite of the heat; the rider wore a uniform and a shining +sword. There was a clank of accoutrements as he passed, and the wayfarer +caught a gleam of piercing black eyes and a slight black moustache turned +up at the ends. The rider saluted politely and indifferently, and jangled +on. The young man scowled after him maliciously until the cypresses hid +him from view; then he turned and took up the dusty road back towards the +Hotel du Lac.</p> + +<p>It was close upon five, and Gustavo was in the courtyard feeding the +parrot, when his eye fell upon the American guest scuffling down the road +in a cloud of white dust. Gustavo hastened to the gate to welcome him +back, his very eyebrows expressive of his eagerness for news.</p> + +<p>‘You are returned, signore?’</p> + +<p>The young man paused and regarded him unemotionally.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, Gustavo, I am returned—with thanks.’</p> + +<p>‘You have seen ze Signorina Costantina?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, I saw her.’</p> + +<p>‘And is it not as I have said, zat she is beautiful as ze holy angels?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, Gustavo, she is—and just about equally remote. You may make out my +bill.’</p> + +<p>The waiter’s face clouded.</p> + +<p>‘You do not wish to remain longer, signore?’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="30"> </span><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a> +‘Can’t stand it, Gustavo; it’s too infernally restful.’</p> + +<p>Poor Gustavo saw a munificent shower of tips vanishing into nothing. His +face was rueful, but his manner was undiminishingly polite.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signore, sank you. When shall you wish ze omnibus?’</p> + +<p>‘To-morrow morning for the first boat.’</p> + +<p>Gustavo bowed to the inevitable; and the young man passed on. He paused +half-way across the courtyard.</p> + +<p>‘What time does the first boat leave?’</p> + +<p>‘At half-past five, signore.’</p> + +<p>‘Er—no—I’ll take the second.’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signore. At half-past ten.’</p> + + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + + +<p>It was close upon ten when Jerymn Hilliard, Jr., equipped for travel in +proper blue serge, appeared in the doorway of the Hotel du Lac. He looked +at his watch and discovered that he still had twenty minutes before the +omnibus meeting the second boat was due. He strolled across the +courtyard, paused for a moment to tease the parrot, and sauntered on to +his favourite seat in the summer-house. He had barely established himself +with a cigarette when who should appear in the gateway but Miss Constance +Wilder, of Villa Rosa, and a middle-aged man—at a glance the Signor +<span class="pagebreak" title="31"> </span><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a> +Papa. Jerymn Hilliard’s heart doubled its beat. Why, he asked himself +excitedly, <i>why</i> had they come?</p> + +<p>The Signor Papa closed his green umbrella, and having dropped into a +chair—obligingly near the summer-house—took off his hat and fanned +himself. He had a tendency toward being stout, and felt the heat. The +girl, meanwhile, crossed the court and jangled the bell; she waited +two—three—minutes, then she pulled the rope again.</p> + +<p>‘Gustavo! Oh, Gustavo!’</p> + +<p>The bell might have been rung by any one—the fisherman, the +omnibus-driver, Suor Celestina from the convent asking her everlasting +alms—and Gustavo took his time. But the voice was unmistakable; he +waited only to throw a clean napkin over his arm before hurrying to +answer.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Buon giorno</i>, signorina! Good morning, signore. It is beautiful +wea-thir, but warm. <i>Già</i>, it is warm.’</p> + +<p>He bowed and smiled and rubbed his hands together. His moustaches, fairly +bristling with good will, turned up in a half-circle until they caressed +his nose on either side. He bustled about placing table and chairs, and +recklessly dusting them with the clean napkin. The signorina laid her +fluffy white parasol on one chair and seated herself on another, her +profile turned to the summer-house. Gustavo hovered over them, awaiting +<span class="pagebreak" title="32"> </span><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a> +their pleasure, the genius itself of respectful devotion. It was +Constance who gave the order—she, it might be noticed, gave most of the +orders that were given in her vicinity. She framed it in English out of +deference to Gustavo’s pride in his knowledge of the language.</p> + +<p>‘A glass of <i>vino santo</i> for the signore and <i>limonata</i> for me. I wish to +put the sugar in myself, the last time you mixed it, Gustavo, it was all +sugar and no lemon. And bring a bowl of cracked ice—<i>fino</i>—<i>fino</i>—and +some pine nut cakes if you are sure they are fresh.’</p> + +<p>‘Sank you, signorina. <i>Subitissimo</i>!’</p> + +<p>He was off across the court, his black coat-tails, his white napkin +streaming behind, proclaiming to all the world that he was engaged on the +Signorina Americana’s bidding; for persons of lesser note he still +preserved a measure of dignity.</p> + +<p>The young man in the summer-house had meanwhile dropped his cigarette +upon the floor and noiselessly stepped on it. He had also—with the +utmost caution lest the chair creak—shifted his position so that he +might command the profile of the girl. The entrance to the summer house +was fortunately on the other side, and in all likelihood they would not +have occasion to look within. It was eavesdropping of course, but he had +already been convicted of that yesterday, and in any case it was not such +very bad eavesdropping. The +<span class="pagebreak" title="33"> </span><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a> + courtyard of the Hotel du Lac was public +property; he had been there first, he was there by rights as a guest of +the house; if anything, they were the interlopers. Besides, nobody talked +secrets with a head waiter. His own long conversations with Gustavo were +as open and innocent as the day; the signorina was perfectly welcome to +listen to them as much as she chose.</p> + +<p>She was sitting with her chin in her hand, eyeing the flying coat-tails +of Gustavo, a touch of amusement in her face. Her father was eyeing her +severely.</p> + +<p>‘Constance, it is disgraceful!’</p> + +<p>She laughed. Apparently she already knew or divined what it was that was +disgraceful, but the accusation did not appear to bother her much. Mr. +Wilder proceeded grumblingly.</p> + +<p>‘It’s bad enough with those five deluded officers, but they walked into +the trap with their eyes open and it’s their own affair. But look at +Gustavo; he can scarcely carry a dish without breaking it when you are +watching him. And Giuseppe—that confounded <i>Farfalla</i> with its yellow +sails floats back and forth in front of the terrace till I am on the +point of having it scuttled as a public nuisance; and those three +washer-women and the post-office clerk and the boy who brings milk, and +Luigi and—every man, woman and child in the village of Valedolmo!’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="34"> </span><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a> +‘And my own dad as well?’</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilder shook his head.</p> + +<p>‘I came here at your instigation for rest and relaxation—to get rid of +nervous worries, and here I find a big new worry waiting for me that I’d +never thought of having before. What if my only daughter should take it +in her head to marry one of these infernally good-looking Italian +officers?’</p> + +<p>Constance reached over and patted his arm.</p> + +<p>‘Don’t let it bother you, Dad; I assure you I won’t do anything of the +sort. I should think it my duty to learn the subjunctive mood, and that +is impossible.’</p> + +<p>Gustavo came hurrying back with a tray. He arranged the glasses, the ice, +the sugar, the cakes, with hovering, elaborate obsequiousness. The +signorina examined the ice doubtfully, then with approval.</p> + +<p>‘It’s exactly right to-day, Gustavo! You got it too large the last time, +you remember.’</p> + +<p>She stirred in some sugar and tasted it tentatively, her head on one +side. Gustavo hung upon her expression in an agony of apprehension; one +would have thought it a matter for public mourning if the lemonade were +not mixed exactly right. But apparently it was right—she nodded and +smiled—and Gustavo’s expression assumed relief. Constance broke open a +pine nut cake and settled herself for conversation.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="35"> </span><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a> +‘Haven’t you any guests, Gustavo?’ Her eyes glanced over the empty +courtyard. ‘I am afraid the hotel is not having a very prosperous +season.’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Grazie</i>, signorina. Zer never are many in summer; it is ze dead time, +but still zay come and zay go. Seven arrive last night.’</p> + +<p>‘Seven! That’s nice. What are they like?’</p> + +<p>‘German mountain-climbers wif nails in zer shoes. Zey have gone to Riva +on ze first boat.’</p> + +<p>‘That’s too bad—then the hotel is empty?’</p> + +<p>‘But no! Zer is an Italian signora wif two babies and a governess, and +two English ladies and an American gentleman——’</p> + +<p>‘An American gentleman?’ Her tone was languidly interested. ‘How long has +he been here?’</p> + +<p>‘Tree—four days.’</p> + +<p>‘Indeed—what is he like?’</p> + +<p>‘Nice—ver’ nice.’ (Gustavo might well say that; his pockets were lined +with the American gentleman’s silver lire.) ‘He talk to me always. +“Gustavo,” he say, “I am all alone; I wish to be ’mused. Come and talk +Angleesh.” Yes, it is true; I have no time to finish my work; I spend +whole day talking wif dis yong American gentleman. He is just a +little——’ He touched his head significantly.</p> + +<p>‘Really?’ She raised her eyes with an +<span class="pagebreak" title="36"> </span><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a> + air of awakened interest. ‘And how +did he happen to come to Valedolmo?’</p> + +<p>‘He come to meet his family, his sister and his—his aunt, who are going +wif him to ze Tyrollo. But zay have not arrive. Zey are in Lucerne, he +says, where zer is a lion dying, and zey wish to wait until he is dead; +zen zey come.—Yes, it is true; he tell me zat.’ Gustavo tapped his head +a second time.</p> + +<p>The signorina glanced about apprehensively.</p> + +<p>‘Is he safe, Gustavo—to be about?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina, <i>sicuramente</i>! He is just a little simple.’</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilder chuckled.</p> + +<p>‘Where is he, Gustavo? I think I’d like to make that young man’s +acquaintance.’</p> + +<p>‘I sink, signore, he is packing his trunk. He go away to-day.’</p> + +<p>‘To-day, Gustavo?’ There was audible regret in Constance’s tone. ‘Why is +he going?’</p> + +<p>‘It is not possible for him to stand it, signorina. Valedolmo too dam +slow.’</p> + +<p>‘Gustavo! You mustn’t say that; it is very, very bad. Nice men don’t say +it.’</p> + +<p>Gustavo held his ground.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina, zat yong American gentleman say it—dam slow, no +<i>divertimento</i>.’</p> + +<p>‘He’s just about right, Gustavo,’ Mr. Wilder broke in. ‘The next time a +young +<span class="pagebreak" title="37"> </span><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a> +American gentleman blunders into the Hotel du Lac you send him +around to me.’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signore.’</p> + +<p>Gustavo rolled his eyes toward the signorina; she continued to sip her +lemonade.</p> + +<p>‘I have told him yesterday an American family live at Villa Rosa; he say, +“All right, I go call,” but—but I sink maybe you were not at home.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh!’ The signorina raised her head in apparent enlightenment. ‘So that +was the young man? Yes, to be sure, he came, but he said he was looking +for Prince Sartorio’s villa. I am sorry you were away, father, you would +have enjoyed him; his English was excellent.—Did he tell you he saw me, +Gustavo?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina, he tell me.’</p> + +<p>‘What did he say? Did he think I was nice?’</p> + +<p>Gustavo looked embarrassed.</p> + +<p>‘I—I no remember, signorina.’</p> + +<p>She laughed and to his relief changed the subject.</p> + +<p>‘Those English ladies who are staying here—what do they look like? Are +they young?’</p> + +<p>Gustavo delivered himself of an inimitable gesture which suggested that +the English ladies had entered the bounds of that indefinite period when +the subject of age must be politely waived.</p> + +<p>‘They are tall, signorina, and of a thinness—you would not believe it +possible.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="38"> </span><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a> +‘I see! And so the poor young man was bored?’</p> + +<p>Gustavo bowed vaguely. He saw no connexion.</p> + +<p>‘He was awfully good-looking,’ she added with a sigh. ‘I’m afraid I made +a mistake. It would be rather fun, don’t you think, Dad, to have an +entertaining young American gentleman about?’</p> + +<p>‘Ump!’ he grunted. ‘I thought you were so immensely satisfied with the +officers.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, I am,’ she agreed with a shrug which dismissed for ever the young +American gentleman.</p> + +<p>‘Well, Gustavo,’ she added in a business-like tone, ‘I will tell you why +we called. The doctor says the Signor Papa is getting too fat. I don’t +think he’s too fat, do you? He seems to me just comfortably chubby; but +anyway, the doctor says he needs exercise, so we’re going to begin +climbing mountains with nails in our shoes like the Germans. And we’re +going to begin to-morrow because we’ve got two English people at the +villa who adore mountains. Do you think you can find us a guide and some +donkeys? We want a nice, gentle, lady-like donkey for my aunt, and +another for the English lady, and a third to carry the things—and maybe +me, if I get tired. Then we want a man who will twist their tails and +make them go; and I am very particular about +<span class="pagebreak" title="39"> </span><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a> + the man. I want him to be +picturesque—there’s no use being in Italy if you can’t have things +picturesque, is there, Gustavo?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina,’ he bowed and resumed his attitude of strained +attention.</p> + +<p>‘He must have curly hair and black eyes and white teeth and a nice smile; +I should like him to wear a red sash and earrings. He must be obliging +and cheerful and deferential and speak good Italian—I won’t have a man +who speaks only dialect. He must play the mandolin and sing Santa +Lucia—I believe that’s all.’</p> + +<p>‘And I suppose since he is to act as guide he must know the region?’ her +father mildly suggested.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, no, that’s immaterial; we can always ask our way.’</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilder grunted, but offered no further suggestion.</p> + +<p>‘We pay four lire a day and furnish his meals,’ she added munificently. +’And we shall begin with the castle on Monte Baldo; then when we get very +proficient we’ll climb Monte Maggiore. Do you understand?’</p> + +<p>‘Ze signorina desires tree donkeys and a driver at seven o’clock +to-morrow morning to climb Monte Baldo?’</p> + +<p>‘In brief, yes, but <i>please</i> remember the earrings.’</p> + +<p>Meanwhile a commotion was going on behind them. The hotel omnibus had +rumbled +<span class="pagebreak" title="40"> </span><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a> + into the courtyard. A <i>fachino</i> had dragged out a leather trunk, +an English hat-box and a couple of valises and dumped them on the ground +while he ran back for the paste pot and a pile of labels. The two +under-waiters, the chambermaid and the boy who cleaned boots had drifted +into the court. It was evident that the American gentleman’s departure +was imminent.</p> + +<p>The luggage was labelled and hoisted to the roof of the omnibus; they all +drew up in a line with their eyes on the door; but still the young man +did not come. Gustavo, over his shoulder, dispatched a waiter to hunt him +up. The waiter returned breathless. The gentleman was nowhere. He had +searched the entire house; there was not a trace. Gustavo sent the +boot-boy flying down the arbour to search the garden; he was beginning to +feel anxious. What if the gentleman in a sudden fit of melancholia had +thrown himself into the lake? That would indeed be an unfortunate affair!</p> + +<p>Constance reassured him, and at the same time she arose. It occurred to +her suddenly that, since the young man was going, there was nothing to be +gained by waiting, and he might think—— She picked up her parasol and +started for the gate, but Mr. Wilder hung back; he wanted to see the +matter out.</p> + +<p>‘Father,’ said she reproachfully, ‘it’s +<span class="pagebreak" title="41"> </span><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a> + embarrassing enough for him to +fee all those people without our staying and watching him do it.’</p> + +<p>‘I suppose it is,’ he acknowledged regretfully, as he resumed his hat and +umbrella and palm-leaf fan.</p> + +<p>She paused for a second in the gateway.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Addio</i>, Gustavo,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘<i>Don’t</i> forget the +earrings.’</p> + +<p>Gustavo bowed twice and turned back with a dazed air to direct the +business in hand. The boot-boy, reappearing, shook his head. No, the +gentleman was not to be found in the garden. The omnibus driver leaned +from his seat and swore.</p> + +<p><i>Corpo di Bacco</i>! Did he think the boat would wait all day for the sake +of one passenger? As it was, they were ten minutes late and would have to +gallop every step of the way.</p> + +<p>The turmoil of ejaculation and gesture was approaching a climax; when +suddenly, who should come sauntering into the midst of it but the young +American man himself! He paused to light a cigarette, then waved his hand +aloft toward his leather belongings.</p> + +<p>‘Take ’em down, Gustavo. Changed my mind; not going to-day—it’s too +hot.’</p> + +<p>Gustavo gasped.</p> + +<p>‘But, signore, you have paid for your ticket.’</p> + +<p>‘True, Gustavo, but there is no law +<span class="pagebreak" title="42"> </span><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a> + compelling me to use it. To tell the +truth I find that I am fonder of Valedolmo than I had supposed. There is +something satisfying about the peace and tranquillity of the place—one +doesn’t realize it till the moment of parting comes. Do you think I can +obtain a room for a—well, an indefinite period?’</p> + +<p>Gustavo saw a dazzling vista of silver lire stretching into the future. +With an all-inclusive gesture he placed the house, the lake, the +surrounding mountains, at the disposal of the American.</p> + +<p>‘You shall have what you wish, signore. At dis season ze Hotel du +Lac——’</p> + +<p>‘Is not crowded, and there are half a hundred rooms at my disposal? Very +well, I will keep the one I have, which commands a very attractive view +of a rose-coloured villa set in a grove of cypress trees.’</p> + +<p>The others had waited in a state of suspension, dumbfounded at what was +going on. But as soon as the young man dipped into his pocket and fished +out a handful of silver, they broke into smiles; this at least was +intelligible. The silver was distributed, the luggage was hoisted down, +the omnibus was dismissed. The courtyard resumed its former quiet; just +the American gentleman, Gustavo and the parrot were left.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly a frightful suspicion dawned upon Gustavo—it was more than +a suspicion; it was an absolute certainty +<span class="pagebreak" title="43"> </span><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a> + which in his excitement he had +overlooked. From where had the American gentleman dropped? Not the sky, +assuredly, and there was no place else possible, unless the door of the +summer-house. Yes, he had been in the summer-house, and not sleeping +either. An indefinable something about his manner informed Gustavo that +he was privy to the entire conversation. Gustavo, a picture of guilty +remorse, searched his memory for the words he had used. Why, oh why, had +he not piled up adjectives? It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and he +had wantonly thrown it away.</p> + +<p>But—to his astonished relief—the young man appeared to be bearing no +malice. He appeared, on the contrary, quite unusually cheerful as he +sauntered, whistling, across the court and seated himself in the exact +chair the signorina had occupied. He plunged his hand into his pocket +suggestively—Gustavo had been the only one omitted in the distribution +of silver—and drew forth a roll of bills. Having selected five crisp +five-lire notes, he placed them under the sugar bowl, and watched his +companion while he blew three meditative rings of smoke.</p> + +<p>‘Gustavo,’ he inquired, ‘do you suppose you could find me some nice, +gentle, lady-like donkeys, and a red sash and a pair of earrings?’</p> + +<p>Gustavo’s fascinated gaze had been +<span class="pagebreak" title="44"> </span><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a> + fixed upon the sugar bowl and he had +only half caught the words.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Scusi</i>, signore, I no understand.’</p> + +<p>‘Just sit down, Gustavo, it makes me nervous to see you standing all the +time. I can’t be comfortable, you know, unless everybody else is +comfortable. Now pay strict attention and see if you can grasp my +meaning.’</p> + +<p>Gustavo dubiously accepted the edge of the indicated chair; he wished to +humour the signore’s mood, however incomprehensible that mood might be. +For half an hour he listened with strained attention while the gentleman +talked and toyed with the sugar bowl. Amazement, misgiving, amusement, +daring, flashed in succession across his face; in the end he leaned +forward with shining eyes.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si, si</i>,’ he whispered after a conspiratorial glance over his shoulder, +‘I will do it all; you may trust to me.’</p> + +<p>The young man rose, removed the sugar bowl, and sauntered on toward the +road. Gustavo pocketed the notes and gazed after him.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Dio mio</i>,’ he murmured as he set about gathering up the glasses, ‘zese +Americans!’</p> + +<p>At the gate the young man paused to light another cigarette.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Addio</i>, Gustavo,’ he called over his shoulder, ‘<i>don’t</i> forget the +earrings!’</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2> +<span class="pagebreak" title="45"> </span><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a> +<a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + + +<p>The table was set on the terrace; breakfast was served and the company +was gathered. Breakfast consisted of the usual caffè-latte, rolls and +strained honey, and—since a journey was to the fore and something +sustaining needed—a soft-boiled egg apiece. There were four persons +present, though there should have been five. The two guests were an +Englishman and his wife, whom the chances of travel had brought over +night to Valedolmo.</p> + +<p>Between them, presiding over the coffee machine, was Mr. Wilder’s sister, +‘Miss Hazel’—never ‘Miss Wilder’ except to the butcher and baker. It was +the cross of her life, she had always affirmed, that her name was not +Mary or Jane or Rebecca. ‘Hazel’ does well enough when one is eighteen +and beautiful, but when one is fifty and no longer beautiful, it is +little short of absurd. But if any one at fifty could carry such a name +gracefully, it was Miss Hazel Wilder; her fifty years sat as jauntily as +Constance’s twenty-two. This morning she was very business-like in her +short skirt, belted jacket, and green felt Alpine hat with a feather in +the side. No one would mistake her for a cyclist or a golfer or a +motorist or anything in the world but an Alpine climber; whatever Miss +Hazel was or was not, she was always <i>game</i>.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="46"> </span><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a> +Across from Miss Hazel sat her brother in knickerbockers, his Alpine +stock at his elbow and also his fan. Since his domicile in Italy, Mr. +Wilder’s fan had assumed the nature of a symbol; he could no more be +separated from it than St. Sebastian from his arrows or St. Laurence from +his gridiron. At Mr. Wilder’s elbow was the empty chair where Constance +should have been—she who had insisted on six as a proper breakfast hour, +and had grudgingly consented to postpone it till half-past out of +deference to her sleepy-headed elders. Her father had finished his egg +and hers too, before she appeared, as nonchalant and smiling as if she +were out the earliest of all.</p> + +<p>‘I think you might have waited!’ was her greeting from the doorway.</p> + +<p>She advanced to the table, saluted in military fashion, dropped a kiss on +her father’s bald spot, and possessed herself of the empty chair. She too +was clad in mountain-climbing costume, in so far as blouse and skirt and +leather leggings went, but above her face there fluttered the fluffy +white brim of a ruffled sun hat with a bunch of pink rosebuds set over +one ear.</p> + +<p>‘I am sorry not to wear my own Alpine hat, Aunt Hazel; I look so +deliciously German in it, but I simply can’t afford to burn all the skin +off my nose.’</p> + +<p>‘You can’t make us believe that,’ said +<span class="pagebreak" title="47"> </span><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a> + her father. ‘The reason is, that +Lieutenant di Ferara and Captain Coroloni are going with us to-day, and +that this hat is more becoming than the other.’</p> + +<p>‘It’s one reason,’ Constance agreed imperturbably, ‘but, as I say, I +don’t wish to burn the skin off my nose, because that is unbecoming too. +You are ungrateful, Dad,’ she added as she helped herself to honey with a +liberal hand, ‘I invited them solely on your account because you like to +hear them talk English. Have the donkeys come?’</p> + +<p>‘The donkeys are at the back door nibbling the buds off the rose bushes.’</p> + +<p>‘And the driver?’</p> + +<p>‘Is sitting on the kitchen doorstep drinking coffee and smiling over the +top of his cup at Elizabetta. There are two of him.’</p> + +<p>‘Two! I only ordered one.’</p> + +<p>‘One is the official driver and the other is a boy whom he has brought +along to do the work.’</p> + +<p>Constance eyed her father sharply. There was something at once guilty and +triumphant about his expression.</p> + +<p>‘What is it, Dad?’ she inquired sternly. ‘I suppose he has not got a sash +and earrings.’</p> + +<p>‘On the contrary, he has.’</p> + +<p>‘Really? How clever of Gustavo! I hope,’ she added anxiously, ‘that he +talks good Italian?’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="48"> </span><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a> +‘I don’t know about his Italian, but he talks uncommonly good English.’</p> + +<p>‘English!’ There was reproach, disgust, disillusionment, in her tone. +‘Not really, father?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, really and truly—almost as well as I do. He has lived in New York +and he speaks English like a dream—real English—not the +Gustavo—Lieutenant di Ferara kind. I can understand what he says.’</p> + +<p>‘How simply horrible!’</p> + +<p>‘Very convenient, I should say.’</p> + +<p>‘If there’s anything I detest, it’s an Americanized Italian—and here in +Valedolmo of all places, where you have a right to demand something +unique and romantic and picturesque and real. It’s too bad of Gustavo! I +shall never place any faith in his judgment again. You may talk English +to the man if you like; I shall address him in nothing but Italian.’</p> + +<p>As they rose from the table she suggested pessimistically, ‘Let’s go and +look at the donkeys—I suppose they’ll be horrid, scraggly, knock-kneed +little beasts.’</p> + +<p>They turned out, however, to be unusually attractive, as donkeys go, and +they were innocently engaged in nibbling, not rose leaves, but grass, +under the tutelage of a barefoot boy. Constance patted their shaggy +mouse-coloured noses, made the acquaintance of the boy, whose name was +Beppo, and looked about for the +<span class="pagebreak" title="49"> </span><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a> + driver proper. He rose and bowed as she +approached. His appearance was even more violently spectacular than she +had ordered; Gustavo had given good measure.</p> + +<p>He wore a loose white shirt—immaculately white—with a red silk +handkerchief knotted about his throat, brown corduroy knee-breeches, and +a red cotton sash with the hilt of a knife conspicuously protruding. His +corduroy jacket was slung carelessly across his shoulders, his hat was +cocked jauntily, with a red heron feather stuck in the band; last, +perfect touch of all, in his ears—at his ears rather (a close +examination revealed the thread)—two golden hoops flashed in the +sunlight. His skin was dark—not too dark—just a good healthy out-door +tan: his brows level and heavy, his gaze candour itself. He wore a tiny +suggestion of a moustache which turned up at the corners (a suspicious +examination of this, might have revealed the fact that it was touched up +with burnt cork); there was no doubt but that he was a handsome fellow, +and his attire suggested that he knew it.</p> + +<p>Constance clasped her hands in an ecstasy of admiration.</p> + +<p>‘He’s perfect!’ she cried. ‘Where on earth did Gustavo find him? Did you +ever see anything so beautiful?’ she appealed to the others. ‘He looks +like a brigand in opera bouffe.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="50"> </span><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a> +The donkey-man reddened visibly and fumbled with his hat.</p> + +<p>‘My dear,’ her father warned, ‘he understands English.’</p> + +<p>She continued to gaze with the open admiration one would bestow upon a +picture or a view or a blue-ribbon horse. The man flashed her a momentary +glance from a pair of searching grey eyes, then dropped his gaze humbly +to the ground.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Buon giorno</i>,’ he said in glib Italian.</p> + +<p>Constance studied him more intently. There was something elusively +familiar about his expression; she was sure she had seen him before.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Buon giorno</i>,’ she replied in Italian. ‘You have lived in the United +States?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina.’</p> + +<p>‘What is your name?’</p> + +<p>‘I spik Angleesh,’ he observed.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t care if you do speak English; I prefer Italian—what is your +name?’ She repeated the question in Italian.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina,’ he ventured again. An anxious look had crept to his +face and he hastily turned away and commenced carrying parcels from the +kitchen. Constance looked after him, puzzled and suspicious. The one +insult which she could not brook was for an Italian to fail to understand +her when she talked Italian. As he returned and knelt to tighten the +strap of a hamper, she caught sight of the thread that held his earring. +She looked a +<span class="pagebreak" title="51"> </span><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a> + second longer, and a sudden smile of illumination flashed +to her face. She suppressed it quickly and turned away.</p> + +<p>‘He seems rather slow about understanding,’ she remarked to the others, +‘but I dare say he’ll do.’</p> + +<p>‘The poor fellow is embarrassed,’ apologized her father. ‘His name is +Tony,’ he added—even he had understood that much Italian.</p> + +<p>‘Was there ever an Italian who had been in America whose name was not +Tony? Why couldn’t he have been Angelico or Felice or Pasquale or +something decently picturesque?’</p> + +<p>‘My dear,’ Miss Hazel objected, ‘I think you are hypercritical. The man +is scarcely to blame for his name.’</p> + +<p>‘I suppose not,’ she agreed, ‘though I should have included that in my +order.’</p> + +<p>Further discussion was precluded by the appearance of a station-carriage +which turned in at the gate and stopped before them. Two officers +descended and saluted. In summer uniforms of white linen with gold +shoulder-straps, and shining top-boots, they rivalled the donkey-man in +decorativeness. Constance received them with flattering acclaim, while +she noted from the corner of her eye the effect upon Tony. He had not +counted upon this addition to the party, and was as scowling as she could +have wished. While the officers were engaged +<span class="pagebreak" title="52"> </span><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a> + in making their bow to the +others, Constance casually reapproached the donkeys. Tony feigned +immersion in the business of strapping hampers; he had no wish to be +drawn into any Italian <i>tête-à-tête</i>. But to his relief she addressed him +this time in English.</p> + +<p>‘Are these donkeys used to mountain-climbing?’</p> + +<p>‘But yes, signorina! <i>Sicuramente</i>. Zay are ver’ strong, ver’ good. Zat +donk’, signorina, he go all day and never one little stumble.’</p> + +<p>His English, she noted with amused appreciation, was an exact copy of +Gustavo’s; he had learned his lesson well. But she allowed not the +slightest recognition of the fact to appear in her face.</p> + +<p>‘And what are their names?’ she inquired.</p> + +<p>‘Dis is Fidilini, signorina, and zat one wif ze white nose is Macaroni, +and zat ovver is Cristoforo Colombo.’</p> + +<p>Elizabetta appeared in the doorway with two rush-covered flasks, and Tony +hurried forward to receive them. There was a complaisant set to his +shoulders as he strode off, Constance noted delightedly; he was +felicitating himself upon the ease with which he had fooled her. Well! +she would give him cause before the day was over for other than +felicitations. She stifled a laugh of prophetic triumph and sauntered +over to Beppo.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="53"> </span><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a> +‘When Tony is engaged as a guide do you always go with him?’</p> + +<p>‘Not always, signorina, but Carlo has wished me to go to-day to look +after the donkeys.’</p> + +<p>‘And who is Carlo?’</p> + +<p>‘He is the guide who owns them.’</p> + +<p>Beppo looked momentarily guilty; the answer had slipped out before he +thought.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, indeed! But if Tony is a guide why doesn’t he have donkeys of his +own?’</p> + +<p>‘He used to, but one unfortunately fell into the lake and got drowned, +and the other died of a sickness.’</p> + +<p>He put forth this preposterous statement with a glance as grave and +innocent as that of a little cherub.</p> + +<p>‘Is Tony a good guide?’</p> + +<p>‘But yes, of the best!’</p> + +<p>There was growing anxiety in Beppo’s tone. He divined suspicion behind +these persistent inquiries, and he knew that in case Tony were dismissed, +his own munificent pay would stop.</p> + +<p>‘Do you understand any English?’ she suddenly asked.</p> + +<p>He modestly repudiated any great knowledge. ‘A word here, a word there; I +learn it in school.’</p> + +<p>‘I see!’ She paused for a moment and then inquired casually, ‘Have you +known Tony long?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="54"> </span><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a> +‘How long?’</p> + +<p>Beppo considered. Some one, clearly, must vouch for the man’s +respectability. This was not in the lesson that had been taught him, but +he determined to branch out for himself.</p> + +<p>‘He is my father, signorina.’</p> + +<p>‘Really! He looks young to be your father—have you any brothers and +sisters, Beppo?’</p> + +<p>‘I have four brothers, signorina, and five sisters.’ He fell back upon +the truth with relief.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Davvero</i>!’</p> + +<p>The signorina smiled upon him, a smile of such heavenly sweetness that he +instantly joined the already crowded ranks of her admirers. She drew from +her pocket a handful of coppers and dropped them into his grimy little +palm.</p> + +<p>‘Here, Beppo, are some soldi for the brothers and sisters. I hope that +you will be good and obedient and <i>always</i> tell me the truth.’</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + + +<p>After some delay—owing to Tony’s inability to balance the chafing-dish +on Cristoforo Colombo’s back—they filed from the gateway, an imposing +cavalcade. The ladies were on foot, loftily oblivious to the fact that +three empty saddles awaited their pleasure. Constance, a gesticulating +officer at either hand, was vivaciously +<span class="pagebreak" title="55"> </span><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a> + talking Italian, while Tony, +trudging behind, listened with a sombre light in his eye. She now and +then cast a casual glance over her shoulder, and as she caught sight of +his gloomy face the animation of her Italian redoubled. The situation +held for her mischief-loving soul undreamed-of possibilities; and though +she ostensibly occupied herself with the officers, she by no means +neglected the donkey-man.</p> + +<p>During the first few miles of the journey he earned his four francs. +Twice he reshifted the pack because Constance thought it insecure (it was +a disgracefully unprofessional pack; most guides would have blushed at +the making of it); once he retraced their path some two hundred yards in +search of a veil she thought she had dropped—it turned out that she had +had it in her pocket all of the time. He chased Fidilini over half the +mountainside while the others were resting, and he carried the +chafing-dish for a couple of miles because it refused to adjust itself +nicely to the pack. The morning ended by his being left behind with a +balking donkey, while the others completed the last ascent that led to +their halting-place for lunch.</p> + +<p>It was a small plateau shaded by oak trees with a broad view below them, +and a mountain stream foaming down from the rocks above. It was owing to +Beppo’s knowledge of the mountain paths rather +<span class="pagebreak" title="56"> </span><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a> + than Tony’s which had +guided them to this agreeable spot; though no one in the party except +Constance appeared to have noted the fact. Tony arrived some ten minutes +after the others, hot but victorious, driving Cristoforo Colombo before +him. Constance welcomed his return with an off-hand nod and set him about +preparing lunch. He and Beppo served it and repacked the hampers, +entirely ignored by the others of the party. Poor Tony was beginning to +realize that a donkey-man lives on a desert island in so far as any +companionship goes. But his moment was coming. As they were about to +start on, Constance spied high above their heads, where the stream burst +from the rocks, a clump of starry white blossoms.</p> + +<p>‘Edelweiss!’ she cried. ‘Oh, I must have it—it’s the first I ever saw +growing; I hadn’t supposed we were high enough.’ She glanced at the +officers.</p> + +<p>The ascent was not dangerous, but it was undeniably muddy, and they both +wore white; with very good cause they hesitated. And while they +hesitated, the opportunity was lost. Tony sprang forward, scrambled up +the precipice hand over hand, swung out across the stream by the aid of +an overhanging branch, and secured the flowers. It was very gracefully +and easily done, and a burst of applause greeted his descent. He divided +<span class="pagebreak" title="57"> </span><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a> +his flowers into two equal parts, and sweeping off his hat, presented +them with a bow, not to Constance, but to the officers, who somewhat +sulkily passed them on. She received them with a smile; for an instant +her eyes met Tony’s, and he fell back, rewarded.</p> + +<p>The captain and lieutenant for the first time regarded the donkey-man, +and they regarded him narrowly, red sash, earrings, stiletto and all. +Constance caught the look and laughed.</p> + +<p>‘Isn’t he picturesque?’ she inquired in Italian. ‘The head-waiter at the +Hotel du Lac found him for me. He has been in the United States and +speaks English, which is a great convenience.’</p> + +<p>The two said nothing, but they looked at each other and shrugged.</p> + +<p>The donkeys were requisitioned for the rest of the journey; while Tony +led Miss Hazel’s mount, he could watch Constance ahead on Fidilini, an +officer marching at each side of her saddle. She appeared to divide her +favours with nice discrimination; it was not her fault if the two were +jealous of one another. Tony could draw from that obvious fact what +consolation there was in it.</p> + +<p>The ruined fortress, their destination, was now exactly above their +heads. The last ascent boldly skirted the shoulder of the mountain, and +then doubled upward in a series of serpentine coils. Below them +<span class="pagebreak" title="58"> </span><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a> + the +whole of Lake Garda was spread like a map. Mr. Wilder and the Englishman, +having paused at the edge of the declivity, were endeavouring to trace +the boundary line of Austria, and they called upon the officers for help. +The two relinquished their post at Constance’s side, while the donkeys +kept on past them up the hill. The winding path was both stony and steep, +and, from a donkey’s standpoint, thoroughly objectionable. Fidilini was +well in the lead, trotting sedately, when suddenly, without the slightest +warning, he chose to revolt. Whether Constance pulled the wrong rein, or +whether, as she affirmed, it was merely his natural badness, in any case, +he suddenly veered from the path and took a cross cut down the rocky +slope below them. Donkeys are fortunately sure-footed beasts; otherwise +the two would have plunged together down the sheer face of the mountain. +As it was it looked ghastly enough to the four men below; they shouted to +Constance to stick on, and commenced scrambling up the slope with +absolutely no hope of reaching her.</p> + +<p>It was Tony’s chance a second time to show his agility—and this time to +some purpose. He was a dozen yards behind and much lower down, which gave +him a start. Leaping forward, he dropped over the precipice, a fall of +ten feet, to a narrow ledge below. Running toward them at an +<span class="pagebreak" title="59"> </span><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a> + angle, he +succeeded in cutting off their flight. Before the frightened donkey could +swerve, Tony had seized him—by the tail—and had braced himself against +a boulder. It was not a dignified rescue, but at least it was effective; +Fidilini came to a halt. Constance, not expecting the sudden jolt, +toppled over sidewise, and Tony, being equally unprepared to receive her, +the two went down together rolling over and over on the grassy slope.</p> + +<p>‘My dear, are you hurt?’</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilder, quite pale with anxiety, came scrambling to her side. +Constance sat up and laughed hysterically, while she examined a bleeding +elbow.</p> + +<p>‘N—no, not dangerously—but I think perhaps Tony is.’</p> + +<p>Tony however was at least able to run, as he was again on his feet and +after the donkey. Captain Coroloni and her father helped Constance to her +feet while Lieutenant di Ferara recovered a side-comb and the white sun +hat. They all climbed down together to the path below, none the worse for +the averted tragedy. Tony rejoined them somewhat short of breath, but +leading a humbled Fidilini. Constance, beyond a brief glance, said +nothing; but her father, to the poor man’s intense embarrassment, shook +him warmly by the hand with the repeated assurance that his bravery +should not go unrewarded.</p> + +<p>They completed their journey on foot; +<span class="pagebreak" title="60"> </span><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a> + Tony following behind, quite +conscious that, if he had played the part of hero, he had done it with a +lamentable lack of grace.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + + +<p>Tony was stretched on the parapet that bordered the stone-paved platform +of the fortress. Above him the crumbling tower rose many feet higher, +below him a marvellous view stretched invitingly; but Tony had eyes +neither for mediæval architecture nor picturesque scenery. He lay with +his coat doubled under his head for a pillow, in a frowning contemplation +of the cracked stone pavement.</p> + +<p>The four other men, after an hour or so of easy lounging under the pines +at the base of the tower, had organized a fresh expedition to the summit +a mile farther up. Mr. Wilder, since morning, had developed into an +enthusiastic mountain-climber—regret might come with the morrow, but as +yet ambition still burned high. The remainder of the party were less +energetic. The three ladies were resting on rugs spread under the pines; +Beppo was sleeping in the sun, his hat over his face, and the donkeys, +securely tethered (Tony had attended to that), were innocently nibbling +mountain herbs. There was no obvious reason why, as he lighted a +cigarette and stretched himself on the parapet, Tony should not have +<span class="pagebreak" title="61"> </span><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a> +been the most self-satisfied guide in the world. He had not only +completed the expedition in safety, but had saved the heroine’s life by +the way; and even if the heroine did not appear as thankful as she might, +still, her father had shown due gratitude, and, what was to the point, +had promised a reward. That should have been enough for any reasonable +donkey driver.</p> + +<p>But it was distinctly not enough for Tony. He was in a fine temper as he +lay on the parapet and scowled at the pavement. Nothing was turning out +as he had planned. He had not counted on the officers or her predilection +for Italian. He had not counted on chasing donkeys in person while she +stood and looked on—Beppo was to have attended to that. He had not +counted on anything quite so absurd as his heroic capture of Fidilini. +Since she must let the donkey run away with her, why, in the name of all +that was romantic, could it not have occurred by moonlight? Why, when he +caught the beast, could it not have been by the bridle instead of the +tail? And above all, why could she not have fallen into his arms, instead +of on top of him?</p> + +<p>The stage scenery was set for romance, but from the moment the curtain +rose the play had persisted in being farce. However, farce or romance, it +was all one to him so long as he could play leading-man; +<span class="pagebreak" title="62"> </span><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a> + what he +objected to was the minor part. The fact was clear that sash and earrings +could never compete with uniform and sword and the Italian language. His +mind was made up; he would withdraw to-night before he was found out, and +leave Valedolmo to-morrow morning by the early boat. Miss Constance +Wilder should never have the satisfaction of knowing the truth.</p> + +<p>He was engaged in framing a dignified speech to Mr. Wilder—thanking him +for his generosity, but declining to accept a reward for what had been +merely a matter of duty—when his reflections were cut short by the sound +of footsteps on the stairs. They were by no means noiseless footsteps; +there were good strong nails all over the bottom of Constance’s shoes. +The next moment she appeared in the doorway. Her eyes were centred on the +view; she looked entirely over Tony. It was not until he rose to his feet +that she realized his presence with a start.</p> + +<p>‘Dear me, is that you, Tony? You frightened me! Don’t get up; I know you +must be tired.’ This with a sweetly solicitous smile.</p> + +<p>Tony smiled too and resumed his seat; it was the first time since morning +that she had condescended to consider his feelings. She sauntered over to +the opposite side and stood with her back to him examining the view. Tony +turned his +<span class="pagebreak" title="63"> </span><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a> + back and affected to be engaged with the view in the other +direction; he too could play at indifference.</p> + +<p>Constance finished with her view first, and crossing over, she seated +herself in the deep embrasure of a window close beside Tony’s parapet. He +rose again at her approach, but there was no eagerness in the motion; it +was merely the necessary deference of a donkey-driver toward his +employer.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, sit down,’ she insisted, ‘I want to talk to you.’</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes with a show of surprise; his hurt feelings insisted +that all the advances should be on her part. Constance seemed in no hurry +to begin; she removed her hat, pushed back her hair, and sat playing with +the bunch of edelweiss which was stuck in among the roses—flattening the +petals, rearranging the flowers with careful fingers; a touch, it seemed +to Tony’s suddenly clamouring senses, that was almost a caress. Then she +looked up quickly and caught his gaze. She leaned forward with a laugh.</p> + +<p>‘Tony,’ she said, ‘do you spik any language besides Angleesh?’</p> + +<p>He triumphantly concealed all sign of emotion.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina, I spik my own language.’</p> + +<p>‘Would you mind my asking what that language is?’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="64"> </span><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a> +He indulged in a moment’s deliberation. Italian was clearly out of the +question, and French she doubtless knew better than he—he deplored this +polyglot education girls were receiving nowadays.</p> + +<p>He had it! He would be Hungarian. His sole fellow guest in the hotel at +Verona the week before had been a Hungarian nobleman, who had informed +him that the Magyar language was one of the most difficult on the face of +the globe. There was at least little likelihood that she was acquainted +with that.</p> + +<p>‘My own language, signorina, is Magyar.’</p> + +<p>‘Magyar?’ She was clearly taken by surprise.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina, I am Hungarian; I was born in Budapest.’ He met her +wide-opened eyes with a look of innocent candour.</p> + +<p>‘Really!’ She beamed upon him delightedly; he was playing up even better +than she had hoped. ‘But if you are Hungarian, what are you doing here in +Italy, and how does it happen that your name is Antonio?’</p> + +<p>‘My movver was Italian. She name me Antonio after ze blessed Saint +Anthony of Padua. If you lose anysing, signorina, and you say a prayer to +Saint Anthony every day for nine days, on ze morning of ze tenth you will +find it again.’</p> + +<p>‘That is very interesting,’ she said +<span class="pagebreak" title="65"> </span><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a> + politely. ‘How do you come to know +English so well, Tony?’</p> + +<p>‘We go live in Amerik’ when I li’l boy.’</p> + +<p>‘And you never learned Italian? I should think your mother would have +taught it to you.’</p> + +<p>He imitated Beppo’s gestures.</p> + +<p>‘A word here, a word there. We spik Magyar at home.’</p> + +<p>‘Talk a little Magyar, Tony. I should like to hear it.’</p> + +<p>‘What shall I say, signorina?’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, say anything you please.’</p> + +<p>He affected to hesitate while he rehearsed the scraps of language at his +command. Latin—French—German—none of them any good—but, thank +goodness, he had elected Anglo-Saxon in college; and thank goodness again +the professor had made them learn passages by heart. He glanced up with +an air of flattered diffidence and rendered, in a conversational +inflection, an excerpt from the Anglo-Saxon Bible.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Ealle gesceafta, heofonas and englas, sunnan and monan, steorran and +eorthan, hè gesceop and geworhte on six dagum.</i>’</p> + +<p>‘It is a very beautiful language. Say some more.’</p> + +<p>He replied with glib promptness, with a passage from Beowulf—</p> + +<p>‘<i>Hie dygel lond warigeath, wulfhleothu, windige naessas.</i>’</p> + +<p>‘What does that mean?’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="66"> </span><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a> +Tony looked embarrassed.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t believe you know!’</p> + +<p>‘It means—<i>scusi</i>, signorina, I no like to say.’</p> + +<p>‘You don’t know.’</p> + +<p>‘It means—you make me say, signorina,—“I sink you ver’ beautiful like +ze angels in Paradise.”’</p> + +<p>‘Indeed! A donkey-driver, Tony, should not say anything like that.’</p> + +<p>‘But it is true.’</p> + +<p>‘The more reason you should not say it.’</p> + +<p>‘You asked me, signorina; I could not tell you a lie.’</p> + +<p>The signorina smiled slightly and looked away at the view; Tony seized +the opportunity to look sidewise at her. She turned back and caught him; +he dropped his eyes humbly to the floor.</p> + +<p>‘Does Beppo speak Magyar?’ she inquired.</p> + +<p>‘Beppo?’ There was wonder in his tone at the turn her questions were +taking. ‘I sink not, signorina.’</p> + +<p>‘That must be very inconvenient. Why don’t you teach it to him?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina.’ He was plainly nonplussed.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, he says that you are his father, and I should think——’</p> + +<p>‘His father?’ Tony appeared momentarily startled; then he laughed. ‘He +did not mean his real father; he mean—how +<span class="pagebreak" title="67"> </span><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a> + you say—his godfather. I +give to him his name when he get christened.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, I see!’</p> + +<p>Her next question was also a surprise.</p> + +<p>‘Tony,’ she inquired with startling suddenness, ‘why do you wear +earrings?’</p> + +<p>He reddened slightly.</p> + +<p>‘Because—because—der’s a girl I like ver’ much, signorina; she sink +earrings look nice. I wear zem for her.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh!—But why do you fasten them on with thread?’</p> + +<p>‘Because I no wear zem always. In Italia, yes; in Amerik’, no. When I +marry dis girl and go back home, zen I do as I please, now I haf to do as +she please.’</p> + +<p>‘H’m——’ said Constance, ruminatingly. ‘Where does this girl live, +Tony?’</p> + +<p>‘In Valedolmo, signorina.’</p> + +<p>‘What does she look like?’</p> + +<p>‘She look like——’ His eyes searched the landscape and came back to her +face. ‘Oh, ver’ beautiful, signorina. She have hair brown and gold, and +eyes—yes, eyes! Zay are sometimes black, signorina, and sometimes grey. +Her laugh, it sounds like the song of a nightingale.’ He clasped his +hands and rolled his eyes in a fine imitation of Gustavo. ‘She is +beautiful, signorina, beautiful as ze angels in Paradise!’</p> + +<p>‘There seem to be a good many people beautiful as the angels in +Paradise.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="68"> </span><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a> +‘She is most beautiful of all.’</p> + +<p>‘What is her name?’</p> + +<p>‘Costantina.’ He said it softly, his eyes on her face.</p> + +<p>‘Ah,’ Constance rose and turned away with a shrug. Her manner suggested +that he had gone too far.</p> + +<p>‘She wash clothes at ze Hotel du Lac,’ he called after her.</p> + +<p>Constance paused and glanced over her shoulder with a laugh.</p> + +<p>‘Tony,’ she said, ‘the quality which I admire most in a donkey-driver, +besides truthfulness and picturesqueness, is imagination.’</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + + +<p>On the homeward journey Tony again trudged behind while the officers held +their post at Constance’s side. But Tony’s spirits were still singing +from the little encounter on the castle platform, and in spite of the +animated Italian which floated back, he was determined to look at the +sunny side of the adventure. It was Mr. Wilder who unconsciously supplied +him with a second opportunity for conversation. He and the Englishman, +being deep in a discussion involving statistics of the Italian army +budget, called on the two officers to set them straight. Tony, at their +order, took his place beside the saddle; Constance was not to be +abandoned again to Fidilini’s caprice. Miss +<span class="pagebreak" title="69"> </span><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a> + Hazel and the Englishwoman +were ambling on ahead in as matter-of-fact a fashion as if that were +their usual mode of travel. Their donkeys were of a sedater turn of mind +than Fidilini—a fact for which Tony offered thanks.</p> + +<p>They were by this time well over the worst part of the mountain, and the +brief Italian twilight was already fading. Tony, with a sharp eye on the +path ahead and a ready hand for the bridle, was attending strictly to the +duties of a well-trained donkey-man. It was Constance again who opened +the conversation.</p> + +<p>‘Ah, Tony?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina?’</p> + +<p>‘Did you ever read any Angleesh books—or do you do most of your reading +in Magyar?’</p> + +<p>‘I haf read one, two, Angleesh books.’</p> + +<p>‘Did you ever read—er—<i>The Lightning Conductor</i>, for example?’</p> + +<p>‘No, signorina; I haf never read heem.’</p> + +<p>‘I think it would interest you. It’s about a man who pretends he’s a +chauffeur in order to—to—— There are any number of books with the same +motive; <i>She Stoops to Conquer</i>, <i>Two Gentlemen of Verona</i>, <i>Lalla +Rookh</i>, <i>Monsieur Beaucaire</i>—Oh, dozens of them! It’s an old plot; it +doesn’t require the slightest originality to think of it.’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina? Sank you.’ Tony’s tone was exactly like Gustavo’s when +he +<span class="pagebreak" title="70"> </span><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a> +has failed to get the point, but feels that a comment is necessary.</p> + +<p>Constance laughed and allowed a silence to follow, while Tony redirected +his attention to Fidilini’s movements. His ‘Yip! Yip!’ was an exact +imitation, though in a deeper guttural, of Beppo’s cries before them. It +would have taken a close observer to suspect that he had not been bred to +the calling.</p> + +<p>‘You have not always been a donkey-driver?’ she inquired after an +interval of amused scrutiny.</p> + +<p>‘Not always, signorina.’</p> + +<p>‘What did you do in New York?’</p> + +<p>‘I play hand-organ, signorina.’</p> + +<p>Tony removed his hand from the bridle and ground ‘Yankee Doodle’ from an +imaginary instrument.</p> + +<p>‘I make musica, signorina, wif—wif—how do you say, monk, monka? His +name Vittorio Emanuele. Ver’ nice monk—simpatica affezionata.’</p> + +<p>‘You’ve never been an actor?’</p> + +<p>‘An actor? No, signorina.’</p> + +<p>‘You should try it; I fancy you might have some talent in that +direction.’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina. Sank you.’</p> + +<p>She let the conversation drop, and Tony, after an interval of silence, +fell to humming Santa Lucia in a very presentable baritone. The tune, +Constance noted, was true enough, but the words were far astray.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="71"> </span><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a> +‘That’s a very pretty song, Tony, but you don’t appear to know it.’</p> + +<p>‘I no understand Italian, signorina. I just learn ze tune because +Costantina like it.’</p> + +<p>‘You do everything that Costantina wishes?’</p> + +<p>‘Everysing! But if you could see her you would not wonder. She has hair +brown and gold, and her eyes, signorina, are sometimes grey and sometimes +black, and her laugh sounds like——’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, yes, I know; you told me all that before.’</p> + +<p>‘When she goes out to work in ze morning, signorina, wif the sunlight +shining on her hair, and a smile on her lips, and a basket of clothes on +her head—— Ah, <i>zen</i> she is beautiful!’</p> + +<p>‘When are you going to be married?’</p> + +<p>‘I do not know, signorina. I have not asked her yet.’</p> + +<p>‘Then how do you know she wishes to marry you?’</p> + +<p>‘I do not know; I just hope.’</p> + +<p>He rolled his eyes toward the moon which was rising above the mountains +on the other side of the lake, and with a deep sigh he fell back into +Santa Lucia.</p> + +<p>Constance leaned forward and scanned his face.</p> + +<p>‘Tony! Tell me your name.’ There was an undertone of meaning, a note of +persuasion in her voice.</p> + +<p>‘Antonio, signorina.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="72"> </span><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a> +She shook her head with a show of impatience.</p> + +<p>‘Your real name—your last name.’</p> + +<p>‘Yamhankeesh.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh!’ she laughed. ‘Antonio Yamhankeesh doesn’t seem to me a very musical +combination; I don’t think I ever heard anything like it before.’</p> + +<p>‘It suits me, signorina.’ His tone carried a suggestion of wounded +dignity. ‘Yamhankeesh has a ver’ beautiful meaning in my language—“He +who dares not, wins not.”’</p> + +<p>‘And that is your motto?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina.’</p> + +<p>‘A very dangerous motto, Tony; it will some day get you into trouble.’</p> + +<p>They had reached the base of the mountain, and their path now broadened +into the semblance of a road which wound through the fields, between +fragrant hedgerows, under towering chestnut trees. All about them was the +fragrance of the dewy, flower-scented summer night, the flash of +fireflies, the chirp of crickets, occasionally the note of a nightingale. +Before them out of a cluster of cypresses, rose the square graceful +outline of the village campanile.</p> + +<p>Constance looked about with a pleased, contented sigh.</p> + +<p>‘Isn’t Italy beautiful, Tony?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, signorina, but I like America better.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="73"> </span><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a> +‘We have no cypresses and ruins and nightingales in America, Tony. We +have a moon sometimes, but not that moon.’</p> + +<p>They passed from the moonlight into the shade of some overhanging +chestnut trees. Fidilini stumbled suddenly over a break in the path and +Tony pulled him up sharply. His hand on the bridle rested for an instant +over hers.</p> + +<p>‘Italy is beautiful—to make love in,’ he whispered.</p> + +<p>She drew her hand away abruptly, and they passed out into the moonlight +again. Ahead of them where the road branched into the highway, the others +were waiting for Constance to catch up, the two officers looking back +with an eager air of expectation. Tony glanced ahead and added with a +quick frown—</p> + +<p>‘But perhaps I do not need to tell you that—you may know it already?’</p> + +<p>‘You are impertinent, Tony.’</p> + +<p>She pulled the donkey into a trot that left him behind.</p> + +<p>The highway was broad and they proceeded in a group, the conversation +general and in English, Tony quite naturally having no part in it. But at +the corners where the road to the village and the road to the villa +separated, Fidilini obligingly turned stubborn again. His mind bent upon +rest and supper, he insisted upon going to the village; the harder +Constance +<span class="pagebreak" title="74"> </span><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a> +pulled on the left rein, the more fixed was his determination +to turn to the right.</p> + +<p>‘Help! I’m being run away with again,’ she called over her shoulder as +the donkey’s pace quickened into a trot.</p> + +<p>Tony, awakening to his duty, started in pursuit, while the others +laughingly shouted directions. He did not run as determinedly as he +might, and they had covered considerable ground before he overtook them. +He turned Fidilini’s head and they started back—at a walk.</p> + +<p>‘Signorina,’ said Tony, ‘may I ask a question, a little impertinent?’</p> + +<p>‘No, certainly not.’</p> + +<p>Silence.</p> + +<p>‘Ah, Tony?’ she asked presently.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina?’</p> + +<p>‘What is it you want to ask?’</p> + +<p>‘Are you going to marry that Italian lieutenant—or perhaps the captain?’</p> + +<p>‘That <i>is</i> impertinent.’</p> + +<p>‘Are you?’</p> + +<p>‘You forget yourself, Tony. It is not your place to ask such a question.’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina; it is my place. If it is true I cannot be your +donkey-man any longer.’</p> + +<p>‘No, it is not true, but that is no concern of yours.’</p> + +<p>‘Are you going on another trip Friday—to Monte Maggiore?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes.’</p> + +<p>‘May I come with you?’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="75"> </span><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a> +His tone implied more than his words. She hesitated a moment, then +shrugged indifferently.</p> + +<p>‘Just as you please, Tony. If you don’t wish to work for us any more I +dare say we can find another man.’</p> + +<p>‘It is as you please, signorina. If you wish it, I come, if you do not +wish it, I go.’</p> + +<p>She made no answer. They joined the others and the party proceeded to the +villa gates.</p> + +<p>Lieutenant di Ferara helped Constance dismount, while Captain Coroloni, +with none too good a grace, held the donkey. A careful observer would +have fancied that the lieutenant was ahead, and that both he and the +captain knew it. Tony untied the bundles, dumped them on the kitchen +floor, and waited respectfully, hat in hand, while Mr. Wilder searched +his pockets for change. He counted out four lire and added a note. Tony +pocketed the lire and returned the note, while Mr. Wilder stared his +astonishment.</p> + +<p>‘Good-bye, Tony,’ Constance smiled as he turned away.</p> + +<p>‘Good-bye, signorina.’ There was a note of finality in his voice.</p> + +<p>‘Well!’ Mr. Wilder ejaculated. ‘That is the first——’ ‘Italian’ he +started to say, but he caught the word before it was out—‘donkey-driver +I ever saw refuse money.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="76"> </span><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a> +Lieutenant di Ferara raised his shoulders.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Machè</i>! The fellow is too honest; you do well to watch him.’ There was +a world of disgust in his tone.</p> + +<p>Constance glanced after the retreating figure and laughed.</p> + +<p>‘Tony!’ she called.</p> + +<p>He kept on; she raised her voice.</p> + +<p>‘Mr. Yamhankeesh.’</p> + +<p>He paused.</p> + +<p>‘You call, signorina?’</p> + +<p>‘Be sure and be here by half-past six on Friday morning; we must start +early.’</p> + +<p>‘Sank you, signorina. Good night.’</p> + +<p>‘Good night, Tony.’</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + + +<p>The Hotel du Lac may be approached in two ways. The ordinary, obvious +way, which incoming tourists of necessity choose, is by the high road and +the gate. But the romantic way is by water. One sees only the garden +then, and the garden is the distinguished feature of the place; it was +planned long before the hotel was built to adorn a marquis’s pleasure +house. There are grottos, arbours, fountains, a winding stream, and, +stretching the length of the water front, a deep cool grove of interlaced +plane trees. At the end of the grove, half a dozen broad stone steps dip +down to a tiny harbour which is carpeted on the surface with lily pads. +The steps +<span class="pagebreak" title="77"> </span><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a> + are worn by the lapping waves of fifty years, and are grown +over with slippery, slimy water weeds.</p> + +<p>The world was just stirring from its afternoon siesta, when the +<i>Farfalla</i> dropped her yellow sails and floated into the shady little +harbour. Giuseppe prodded and pushed along the fern-grown banks until the +keel jolted against the water-steps. He sprang ashore and steadied the +boat while Constance alighted. She slipped on the mossy step—almost went +under—and righted herself with a laugh that rang gaily through the +grove.</p> + +<p>She came up the steps still smiling, shook out her fluffy pink skirts, +straightened her rose-trimmed hat, and glanced reconnoitringly about the +grove. One might reasonably expect, attacking the hotel as it were from +the flank, to capture unawares any stray guest. But aside from a +chaffinch or so and a brown and white spotted calf tied to a tree, the +grove was empty—blatantly empty. There was a shade of disappointment in +Constance’s glance. One naturally does not like to waste one’s best +embroidered gown on a spotted calf.</p> + +<p>Then her eye suddenly brightened as it lighted on a vivid splash of +yellow under a tree. She crossed over and picked it up—a paper-covered +French novel; the title was <i>Bijou</i>, the author was Gyp. She turned to +the first page. Any reasonably +<span class="pagebreak" title="78"> </span><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a> + careful person might be expected to write +his name in the front of a book—particularly a French book—before +abandoning it to the mercies of a foreign hotel. But the several +fly-leaves were immaculately innocent of all sign of ownership.</p> + +<p>So intent was she upon this examination, that she did not hear footsteps +approaching down the long arbour that led from the house; so intent was +the young man upon a frowning scrutiny of the path before him, that he +did not see Constance until he had passed from the arbour into the grove. +Then simultaneously they raised their heads and looked at each other. For +a startled second they stared—rather guiltily—both with the air of +having been caught. Constance recovered her poise first; she nodded—a +nod which contained not the slightest hint of recognition—and laughed.</p> + +<p>‘Oh!’ she said. ‘I suppose this is your book? And I am afraid you have +caught me red-handed. You must excuse me for looking at it, but usually +at this season only German Alpine climbers stop at the Hotel du Lac, and +I was surprised, you know, to find that German Alpine climbers did +anything so frivolous as reading Gyp.’</p> + +<p>The man bowed with a gesture which made her free of the book, but he +continued his silence. Constance glanced at him again, and this time she +allowed a flash of recognition to appear in her face.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="79"> </span><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a> +‘Oh!’ she re-exclaimed with a note of interested politeness, ‘you are the +young man who stumbled into Villa Rosa last Monday looking for the garden +of the prince?’</p> + +<p>He bowed a second time, an answering flash appearing in his face.</p> + +<p>‘And you are the young woman who was sitting on the wall beside a row +of—of——’</p> + +<p>‘Stockings?’ She nodded. ‘I trust you found the prince’s garden without +difficulty?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, thank you. Your directions were very explicit.’</p> + +<p>A slight pause followed, the young man waiting deferentially for her to +take the lead.</p> + +<p>‘You find Valedolmo interesting?’ she inquired.</p> + +<p>‘Interesting!’ His tone was enthusiastic. ‘Aside from the prince’s +garden, which contains a cedar of Lebanon and an india-rubber plant from +South America, there is the Luini in the chapel of San Bartolomeo, and +the statue of Garibaldi in the piazza. And then——’ he waved his hand +toward the lake, ‘there is always the view.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ she agreed, ‘one can always look at the view.’</p> + +<p>Her eyes wandered to the lake, and across the lake to Monte Maggiore with +clouds drifting about its peak. And while +<span class="pagebreak" title="80"> </span><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a> + she obligingly studied the +mountain, he studied the effect of the pink gown and the rose-bud hat. +She turned back suddenly and caught him; it was a disconcerting habit of +Constance’s. He politely looked away, and she—with frank +interest—studied him. He was bareheaded and dressed in white flannels; +they were very becoming, she noted critically, and yet—they needed just +a touch of colour; a red sash, for example, and earrings.</p> + +<p>‘The guests of the Hotel du Lac,’ she remarked, ‘have a beautiful garden +of their own. Just the mere pleasure of strolling about in it ought to +keep them contented with Valedolmo.’</p> + +<p>‘Not necessarily,’ he objected. ‘Think of the Garden of Eden—the most +beautiful garden there has ever been, if report speaks true—and yet the +mere pleasure of strolling about didn’t keep Adam contented. One gets +lonely, you know.’</p> + +<p>‘Are you the only guest?’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, no, there are four of us, but we’re not very companionable; there’s +such a discrepancy in languages.’</p> + +<p>‘And you don’t speak Italian?’</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>‘Only English and’—he glanced at the book in her hand—‘French +indifferently well.’</p> + +<p>‘I saw some one the other day who spoke Magyar—that is a beautiful +language.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes?’ he returned with polite indifference. +<span class="pagebreak" title="81"> </span><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a> + ‘I don’t remember ever to +have heard it.’</p> + +<p>She laughed and glanced about. Her eyes lighted on the arbour hung with +grape-vines and wistaria, where, far at the other end, Gustavo’s figure +was visible lounging in the yellow stucco doorway. The sight appeared to +recall an errand to her mind. She glanced down at a pink wicker-basket +which hung on her arm, and gathered up her skirts with a movement of +departure.</p> + +<p>The young man hastily picked up the conversation.</p> + +<p>‘It <i>is</i> a jolly old garden,’ he affirmed. ‘And there’s something +pathetic about its appearing on souvenir post cards as a mere adjunct to +a blue and yellow hotel.’</p> + +<p>She nodded sympathetically.</p> + +<p>‘Built for romance and abandoned to tourists—German tourists at that!’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, not entirely—we’ve a Russian countess just now.’</p> + +<p>‘A Russian countess?’ Constance turned toward him with an air of +reawakened interest. ‘Is she as young and beautiful and fascinating and +wicked as they always are in novels?’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, dear no! Seventy, if she’s a day. A nice grandmotherly old soul who +smokes cigarettes.’</p> + +<p>‘Ah!’ Constance smiled; there was even a trace of relief in her manner as +she nodded to the young man and turned away. +<span class="pagebreak" title="82"> </span><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a> + His face reflected his +disappointment; he plainly wished to detain her, but could think of no +expedient. The spotted calf came to his rescue. The calf had been +watching them from the first, very much interested in the visitor; and +now, as she approached his tree, he stretched out his neck as far as the +tether permitted and sniffed insistently. She paused and patted him on +the head. The calf acknowledged the caress with a grateful <i>moo</i>; there +was a plaintive light in his liquid eyes.</p> + +<p>‘Poor thing—he’s lonely!’ She turned to the young man and spoke with an +accent of reproach. ‘The four guests of the Hotel du Lac don’t show him +enough attention.’</p> + +<p>The young man shrugged.</p> + +<p>‘We’re tired of calves. It’s only a matter of a day or so before he’ll be +breaded and fried and served Milanese fashion with a sauce of tomato and +garlic.’</p> + +<p>Constance shook her head sympathetically; though whether her sympathy was +for the calf or the partakers of table d’hôte was not quite clear.</p> + +<p>‘I know,’ she agreed. ‘I’ve been a guest at the Hotel du Lac myself—it’s +a tragedy to be born a calf in Italy!’</p> + +<p>She nodded and turned; it was evident this time that she was really +going. He took a hasty step forward.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, I say, please don’t go! Stay and +<span class="pagebreak" title="83"> </span><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a> + talk to me—just a little while. +That calf isn’t half so lonely as I am.’</p> + +<p>‘I should like to, but really I mustn’t. Elizabetta is waiting for me to +bring her some eggs. We are planning a trip up the Maggiore to-morrow, +and we have to have a cake to take with us. Elizabetta made one this +morning, but she forgot to put in the baking powder. Italian cooks are +not used to making cakes; they are much better at’—her eyes fell on the +calf—‘veal and such things.’</p> + +<p>He folded his arms with an air of desperation.</p> + +<p>‘I’m an American—one of your own countrymen; if you had a grain of +charity in your nature you would let the cake go.’</p> + +<p>She shook her head relentlessly.</p> + +<p>‘Five days at Valedolmo! You would not believe the straits I’ve been +driven to in search of amusement.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes?’ There was a touch of curiosity in her tone. ‘What for example?’</p> + +<p>‘I am teaching Gustavo how to play tennis.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh!’ she said. ‘How does he do?’</p> + +<p>‘Broken three windows and a flower-pot and lost four balls.’</p> + +<p>She laughed and turned away; and then as an idea occurred to her, she +turned back and fixed her eyes sympathetically on his face.</p> + +<p>‘I suppose Valedolmo is stupid for a +<span class="pagebreak" title="84"> </span><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a> + man; but why don’t you try +mountain-climbing? Everybody finds that diverting. There’s a guide here +who speaks English—really comprehensible English. He’s engaged for +to-morrow, but after that I dare say he’ll be free. Gustavo can tell you +about him.’</p> + +<p>She nodded and smiled and turned down the arbour.</p> + +<p>The young man stood where she left him, with folded arms, watching her +pink gown as it receded down the long sun-flecked alley hung with purple +and green. He waited until it had been swallowed up in the yellow +doorway; then he fetched a deep breath and strolled to the water-wall. +After a few moments’ prophetic contemplation of the mountain across the +lake, he threw back his head with a quick amused laugh, and got out a +cigarette and lighted it.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + + +<p>As Constance emerged at the other end of the arbour, Gustavo, who had +been nodding on the bench beside the door, sprang to his feet, +consternation in his attitude.</p> + +<p>‘Signorina!’ he stammered. ‘You come from ze garden?’</p> + +<p>She nodded in her usual off-hand manner and handed him the basket.</p> + +<p>‘Eggs, Gustavo—two dozen if you can spare them. I am sorry always to be +<span class="pagebreak" title="85"> </span><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a> +wanting so many, but’—she sighed—‘eggs are so breakable!’</p> + +<p>Gustavo rolled his eyes to heaven in silent thanksgiving. She had not, it +was evident, run across the American, and the cat was still safely in the +bag; but how much longer it could be kept there the saints alone knew. He +was feeling—very properly—guilty in regard to this latest escapade; but +what can a defenceless waiter do in the hands of an impetuous young +American whose pockets are stuffed with silver lire and five-franc notes?</p> + +<p>‘Two dozen? Certainly, signorina. <i>Subitissimo</i>!’ He took the basket and +hurried to the kitchen.</p> + +<p>Constance occupied the interval with the polyglot parrot of the +courtyard. The parrot, since she had last conversed with him, had +acquired several new expressions in the English tongue. As Gustavo +reappeared with the eggs, she confronted him sternly.</p> + +<p>‘Have you been teaching this bird English? I am surprised!’</p> + +<p>‘No, signorina. It was—it was——’ Gustavo mopped his brow. ‘He jus’ +pick it up.’</p> + +<p>‘I’m sorry that the Hotel du Lac has <i>guests</i> that use such language; +it’s very shocking.’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina.’</p> + +<p>‘By the way, Gustavo, how does it happen +<span class="pagebreak" title="86"> </span><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a> + that that young American man +who left last week is still here?’</p> + +<p>Gustavo nearly dropped the eggs.</p> + +<p>‘I just saw him in the garden with a book—I am sure it was the same +young man. What is he doing all this time in Valedolmo?’</p> + +<p>Gustavo’s eyes roved wildly until they lighted on the tennis-court.</p> + +<p>‘He—he stay, signorina, to play lawn-tennis wif me, but he go +to-morrow.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, he is going to-morrow?—What’s his name, Gustavo?’</p> + +<p>She put the question indifferently while she stooped to pet a +tortoise-shell cat that was curled asleep on the bench.</p> + +<p>‘His name?’ Gustavo’s face cleared. ‘I get ze raygeester; you read heem +yourself.’</p> + +<p>He darted into the bureau and returned with a black book.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Ecco</i>, signorina!’ spreading it on the table before her.</p> + +<p>His alacrity should have aroused her suspicions; but she was too intent +on the matter in hand. She turned the pages and paused at the week’s +entries; Rudolph Ziegelmann und Frau, Berlin; and just beneath, in bold +black letters that stretched from margin to margin, Abraham Lincoln, +U.S.A.</p> + +<p>Gustavo hovered above, anxiously watching her face; he had been told that +this would make everything right, that +<span class="pagebreak" title="87"> </span><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a> + Abraham Lincoln was an +exceedingly respectable name. Constance’s expression did not change. She +looked at the writing for fully three minutes, then she opened her purse +and looked inside. She laid the money for the eggs in a pile on the +table, and took out an extra lira which she held in her hand.</p> + +<p>‘Gustavo,’ she asked, ‘do you think that you <i>could</i> tell me the truth?’</p> + +<p>‘Signorina!’ he said reproachfully.</p> + +<p>‘How did that name get there?’</p> + +<p>‘He write it heemself!’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, I dare say he did—but it doesn’t happen to be his name. Oh, I’m +not blind; I can see plainly enough that he has scratched out his own +name underneath.’</p> + +<p>Gustavo leaned forward and affected to examine the page. ‘It was a li’l’ +blot, signorina; he scratch heem out.’</p> + +<p>‘Gustavo!’ Her tone was despairing. ‘Are you incapable of telling the +truth? That young man’s name is no more Abraham Lincoln than Victor +Emmanuel II. When did he write that, and why?’</p> + +<p>Gustavo’s eyes were on the lira; he broke down and told the truth.</p> + +<p>‘Yesterday night, signorina. He say, “Ze next time zat Signorina +Americana who is beautiful as ze angels come to zis hotel she look in ze +raygeester, an’ I haf it feex ready.”’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, he said that, did he?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="88"> </span><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a> +‘And his real name that comes on his letters?’</p> + +<p>‘Jayreem Ailyar, signorina.’</p> + +<p>‘Say it again, Gustavo.’ She cocked her head.</p> + +<p>He gathered himself together for a supreme effort. He rolled his r’s; he +shouted until the courtyard reverberated.</p> + +<p>‘Meestair-r Jay-r-reem Ailyar-r!’</p> + +<p>Constance shook her head.</p> + +<p>‘Sounds like Hungarian—at least the way you pronounce it. But anyway +it’s of no consequence; I merely asked out of idle curiosity. And +Gustavo’—she still held the lira—‘if he asks you if I looked in this +register, what are you going to say?’</p> + +<p>‘I say, “No, Meestair Ailyar, she stay all ze time in ze courtyard +talking wif ze parrot, and she was ver’ moch shocked at his Angleesh.”’</p> + +<p>‘Ah!’ Constance smiled and laid the lira on the table. ‘Gustavo,’ she +said, ‘I hope, for the sake of your immortal soul, that you go often to +confession.’</p> + +<p>The eggs were not heavy, but Gustavo insisted upon carrying them; he was +determined to see her safely aboard the <i>Farfalla</i>, with no further +accidents possible. That she had not identified the young man of the +garden with the donkey-driver of yesterday was clear—though how such +blindness was possible, was not clear. Probably she had only caught a +glimpse of +<span class="pagebreak" title="89"> </span><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a> + his back at a distance; in any case he thanked a merciful +Providence and decided to risk no further chance. As they neared the end +of the arbour, Gustavo was talking—shouting fairly; their approach was +heralded.</p> + +<p>They turned into the grove. To Gustavo’s horror the most conspicuous +object in it was this same reckless young man, seated on the water-wall +nonchalantly smoking a cigarette. The young man rose and bowed; Constance +nodded carelessly, while Gustavo behind her back made frantic signs for +him to flee, to escape while still there was time. The young man +telegraphed back by the same sign language that there was no danger; she +didn’t suspect the truth. And to Gustavo’s amazement, he fell in beside +them and strolled over to the water-steps. His recklessness was catching; +Gustavo suddenly determined upon a bold stroke himself.</p> + +<p>‘Signorina,’ he asked, ‘zat man I send, zat donk’-driver—you like heem?’</p> + +<p>‘Tony?’ Her manner was indifferent. ‘Oh, he does well enough; he seems +honest and truthful, though a little stupid.’</p> + +<p>Gustavo and the young man exchanged glances.</p> + +<p>‘And, Gustavo,’ she turned to him with a sweetly serious air that +admitted no manner of doubt but that she was in earnest. ‘I told this +young man that in case he cared to do any mountain climbing, you +<span class="pagebreak" title="90"> </span><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a> + would +find him the same guide. It would be very useful for him to have one who +speaks English.’</p> + +<p>Gustavo bowed in mute acquiescence. He could find no adequate words for +the situation.</p> + +<p>The boat drew alongside and Constance stepped in, but she did not sit +down. Her attention was attracted by two washer-women who had come +clattering on to the little rustic bridge that spanned the stream above +the water-steps. The women, their baskets of linen on their heads, had +paused to watch the embarkation.</p> + +<p>‘Ah, Gustavo,’ Constance asked over her shoulder, ‘is there a +washer-woman here at the Hotel du Lac named Costantina?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina, zat is Costantina standing on ze bridge wif ze yellow +handkerchief on her head.’</p> + +<p>Constance looked at Costantina, and nodded and smiled. Then she laughed +out loud, a beautiful rippling, joyous laugh that rang through the grove +and silenced the chaffinches.</p> + +<p>Perhaps once upon a time Costantina was beautiful—beautiful as the +angels—but if so, it was long, long ago. Now she was old and fat, with a +hawk nose and a double chin and one tooth left in the middle of the +front. But if she were not beautiful, she was at least a cheerful old +soul, and, though she could not possibly +<span class="pagebreak" title="91"> </span><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a> + know the reason, she echoed the +signorina’s laugh until she nearly shook the clean clothes into the +water.</p> + +<p>Constance settled herself among the cushions and glanced back toward the +terrace.</p> + +<p>‘Good afternoon,’ she nodded politely to the young man.</p> + +<p>He bowed with his hand on his heart.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Addio</i>, Gustavo.’</p> + +<p>He bowed until his napkin swept the ground.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Addio</i>, Costantina,’ she waved her hand toward her namesake.</p> + +<p>The washer-woman laughed again, and her earrings flashed in the sunlight.</p> + +<p>Giuseppe raised the yellow sail; they caught the breeze, and the +<i>Farfalla</i> floated away.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + + +<p>Half-past six on Friday morning, and Constance appeared on the terrace; +Constance in fluffy, billowy, lacy white with a spray of oleander in her +belt—the last costume in the world in which one would start on a +mountain climb. She cast a glance in passing toward the gateway and the +stretch of road visible beyond, but both were empty, and seating herself +on the parapet, she turned her attention to the lake. The breeze that +blew from the farther shore brought fresh Alpine odours of flowers and +pine trees. Constance +<span class="pagebreak" title="92"> </span><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a> +sniffed it eagerly as she gazed across toward the +purple outline of Monte Maggiore. The serenity of her smile gradually +gave place to doubt; she turned and glanced back toward the house, +visibly changing her mind.</p> + +<p>But before the change was finished, the quiet of the morning was broken +by a clatter of tiny scrambling obstinate hoofs and a series of +ejaculations, both Latin and English. She glanced toward the gate, where +Fidilini was visible, plainly determined not to come in. Constance +laughed expectantly and turned back to the water, her eyes intent on the +fishing-smacks that were putting out from the little <i>marino</i>. The sounds +of coercion increased; a command floated down the driveway in the English +tongue. It sounded like: ‘You twist his tail, Beppo, while I pull.’</p> + +<p>Apparently it was understood in spite of Beppo’s slight knowledge of the +language. An eloquent silence followed; then an outraged grunt on the +part of Fidilini, and the cavalcade advanced with a rush to the kitchen +door. Tony left Beppo and the donkeys, and crossed the terrace alone. His +bow swept the ground in the deferential manner of Gustavo, but his glance +was far bolder than a donkey-driver’s should have been. She noted the +fact and tossed him a nod of marked condescension. A silence followed, +during +<span class="pagebreak" title="93"> </span><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a> + which Constance studied the lake; when she turned back, she found +Tony arranging a spray of oleander that had dropped from her belt in the +band of his hat. She viewed this performance in silent disfavour. Having +finished to his satisfaction, he tossed the hat aside and seated himself +on the balustrade. Her frown became visible. Tony sprang to his feet with +an air of anxiety.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Scusi</i>, signorina. I have not meant to be presumptious. Perhaps it is +not fitting that any one below the rank of lieutenant should sit in your +presence?’</p> + +<p>‘It will not be very long, Tony, before you are discharged for +impertinence.’</p> + +<p>‘Ah, signorina, do not say that! If it is your wish I will kneel when I +address you. My family, signorina, are poor; they need the four francs +which you so munificently pay.’</p> + +<p>‘You told me that you were an orphan; that you had no family.’</p> + +<p>‘I mean the family which I hope to have. Costantina has extravagant +tastes, and coral earrings cost two-fifty a pair.’</p> + +<p>Constance laughed and assumed a more lenient air. She made a slight +gesture which might be interpreted as an invitation to sit down; and Tony +accepted it.</p> + +<p>‘By the way, Tony, how do you talk to Costantina, since she speaks no +English and you no Italian?’</p> + +<p>‘We have no need of either Italian or +<span class="pagebreak" title="94"> </span><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a> + English; the language of love, +signorina, is universal.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh!’ she laughed again. ‘I was at the Hotel du Lac yesterday; I saw +Costantina.’</p> + +<p>‘You saw Costantina!—Ah, signorina, is she not beautiful? Ze mos’ +beautiful in all ze world? But ver’ unkind, signorina. Yes, she laugh at +me; she smile at ozzer men, at soldiers wif uniforms.’ He sighed +profoundly. ‘But I love her just ze same, always from ze first moment I +see her. It was wash-day, signorina, by ze lac. I climb over ze wall and +talk wif her, but she make fun of me—ver’ unkind. I go away ver’ sad. No +use, I say, she like dose soldiers best. But I see her again; I hear her +laugh—it sound like angels singing—I say, no, I can not go away; I stay +here and make her love me. Yes, I do everysing she ask—but everysing! I +wear earrings; I make myself into a fool just to please zat Costantina.’</p> + +<p>He leaned forward and looked into her eyes. A slow red flush crept over +Constance’s face, and she turned her head away and looked across the +water.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilder, in full Alpine regalia, stepped out upon the terrace and +viewed the beauty of the morning with a prophetic eye. Miss Hazel +followed in his wake; she wore a lavender dimity. And suddenly it +occurred to Tony’s slow moving masculine perception that neither +lavender +<span class="pagebreak" title="95"> </span><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a> + dimity nor white muslin were fabrics fit for mountain climbing.</p> + +<p>Constance slipped down from her parapet and hurried to meet them.</p> + +<p>‘Good morning, Aunt Hazel. Morning, Dad! You look beautiful! There’s +nothing so becoming to a man as knickerbockers—especially if he’s a +little stout.—You’re late,’ she added with a touch of severity. +‘Breakfast has been waiting half an hour and Tony fifteen minutes.’</p> + +<p>She turned back toward the donkey-man, who was standing, hat in hand, +respectfully waiting orders. ‘Oh, Tony, I forgot to tell you; we shall +not need Beppo and the donkeys to-day. You and my father are going +alone.’</p> + +<p>‘You no want to climb Monte Maggiore—ver’ beautiful mountain.’ There was +disappointment, reproach, rebellion in his tone.</p> + +<p>‘We have made inquiries and my aunt thinks it too long a trip. Without +the donkeys you can cross by boat, and that cuts off three miles.’</p> + +<p>‘As you please, signorina.’ He turned away.</p> + +<p>Constance looked after him with a shade of remorse. When this plan of +sending her father and Tony alone had occurred to her as she sailed +homeward yesterday from the Hotel du Lac, it had seemed a humorous and +fitting retribution. The young man had been just a trifle too +<span class="pagebreak" title="96"> </span><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a> + sure of +her interest; the episode of the hotel register must not go unpunished. +But—it was a beautiful morning, a long empty day stretched before her, +and Monte Maggiore looked alluring; there was no pursuit, for the moment, +which she enjoyed as much as donkey-riding. Oh yes, she was spiting +herself as well as Tony; but considering the circumstances the sacrifice +seemed necessary.</p> + +<p>When the <i>Farfalla</i> drifted up ready to take the mountain-climbers, Miss +Hazel suggested (Constance possessed to a large degree the diplomatic +faculty of making other people propose what she herself had decided on) +that she and her niece cross with them. Tony was sulky, and Constance +could not forgo the pleasure of baiting him further.</p> + +<p>They put in at the village, on their way, for the morning mail; Mr. +Wilder wished his paper, even at the risk of not beginning the ascent +before the sun was high. Giuseppe brought back from the post, among other +matters, a letter for Constance. The address was in a dashing, angular +hand that pretty thoroughly covered the envelope. Had she not been so +intent on the writing herself, she would have noted Tony’s astonished +stare as he passed it to her.</p> + +<p>‘Why!’ she exclaimed, ‘here’s a letter from Nannie Hilliard, postmarked +Lucerne.’</p> + +<p>‘Lucerne!’ Miss Hazel echoed her surprise. +<span class="pagebreak" title="97"> </span><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a> + ‘I thought they were to be in +England for the summer?’</p> + +<p>‘They were—the last I heard.’ Constance ripped the letter open and read +it aloud.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>‘<span class="smcap">Dear Constance</span>: You’ll doubtless be surprised to hear from us in +Switzerland instead of in England, and to learn further, that in +the course of a week, we shall arrive at Valedolmo <i>en route</i> for +the Dolomites. Jerry Junior at the last moment decided to come with +us, and you know what a <i>man</i> is when it comes to European travel. +Instead of taking two months comfortably to England, as Aunt Kate +and I had planned, we did the whole of the British Isles in ten +days, and Holland and France at the same breathless rate.</p> + +<p>‘Jerry says he holds the record for the Louvre; he struck a +six-mile pace at the entrance, and by looking neither to the right +nor the left he did the whole building in forty-three minutes.</p> + +<p>‘You can imagine the exhausted state Aunt Kate and I are in after +travelling five weeks with him. We simply struck in Switzerland and +sent him on to Italy alone. I had hoped he would meet us in +Valedolmo, but we have been detained here longer than we expected, +and now he’s rushed off again—where to, goodness only knows; we +don’t.</p> + +<p>‘Anyway, Aunt Kate and I shall land in +<span class="pagebreak" title="98"> </span><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a> + Valedolmo about the end of +the week. I am dying to see you; I have some beautiful news that’s +too complicated to write. We’ve engaged rooms at the Hotel du +Lac—I hope it’s decent; it’s the only place starred in Baedeker.</p> + +<p>‘Aunt Kate wishes to be remembered to your father and Miss Hazel.</p> + +<p class="yours">‘Yours ever,</p> +<p class="signature">‘Nan Hilliard. +</p> + +<p>‘P.S.—I’m awfully sorry not to bring Jerry; I know you’d adore +him.’</p></div> + +<p>She returned the letter to its envelope and looked up.</p> + +<p>‘Now isn’t that abominable?’ she demanded.</p> + +<p>‘Abominable!’ Miss Hazel was scandalized. ‘My dear, I think it’s +delightful.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, yes—I mean about Jerry Junior; I’ve been trying for six years to +get hold of that man.’</p> + +<p>Tony behind them made a sudden movement that let out nearly a yard of +rope, and the <i>Farfalla</i> listed heavily to starboard.</p> + +<p>‘Tony!’ Constance threw over her shoulder. ‘Don’t you know enough to sit +still when you are holding the sheet?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Scusi</i>,’ he murmured. The sulky look had vanished from his face; he +wore an expression of alert attention.</p> + +<p>‘Of course we shall have them at the +<span class="pagebreak" title="99"> </span><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a> + villa,’ said Miss Hazel. ‘And we +shall have to get some new dishes. Elizabetta has already broken so many +plates that she has to stop and wash them between courses.’</p> + +<p>Constance looked dreamily across the lake; she appeared to be thinking. +‘I wonder,’ she inquired finally, ‘if Jerry Junior knew we were here in +Valedolmo?’</p> + +<p>Her father emerged from the columns of his paper.</p> + +<p>‘Of course he knew it, and having heard what a dangerous young person you +were, he said to himself, “I’d better keep out.”’</p> + +<p>‘I wish I knew. It would make the score against him considerably +heavier.’</p> + +<p>‘So there is already a score? I hadn’t supposed that the game had begun.’</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>‘Six years ago—but he doesn’t know it. Yes, Dad,’ her tone was +melodramatic, ‘for six years I’ve been waiting for Jerry Junior and +planning my revenge. And now, when I have him almost in my grasp, he +eludes me again!’</p> + +<p>‘Dear me!’ Mr. Wilder ejaculated. ‘What did the young man do?’</p> + +<p>Had Constance turned she would have found Tony’s face an interesting +study. But she knew well enough without looking at him that he was +listening to the conversation, and she determined to give him something +to listen to. It was a salutary +<span class="pagebreak" title="100"> </span><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a> + thing for Tony to be kept in mind of the +fact that there were other men in the world.</p> + +<p>She sighed.</p> + +<p>‘He was the first man I ever loved, father, and he spurned me. Do you +remember that Christmas when I was in boarding-school and you were called +South on business? I wanted to visit Nancy Long, but you wouldn’t let me +because you didn’t like her father; and you got Mrs. Jerymn Hilliard whom +I had never set eyes on to invite me there? I didn’t want to go, and you +said I must, and was perfectly horrid about it?—you remember that?’</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilder grunted.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, I see you do. And you remember how, with my usual sweetness, I +finally gave way? Well, Dad, you never knew the reason. The Yale Glee +Club came to Westfield that year just before the holidays began, and Miss +Jane let everybody go to the concert whose deportment had been above +eighty—that of course included me.</p> + +<p>‘Well, we all went, and we all fell in love—in a body—with a sophomore +who played the banjo and sang negro songs. He had lovely dark +gazelle-like eyes, and he sang funny songs without smiling. The whole +school raved about him all the way home; we cut his picture out of the +programme and pasted in the front of our +<span class="pagebreak" title="101"> </span><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a> + watches. His name, father’—she +paused dramatically—‘was Jerymn Hilliard Junior!’</p> + +<p>‘I sat up half the night writing diplomatic letters to you and Mrs. +Hilliard; and the next day when it got around that I was actually going +to visit in his house—well, I was the most popular girl in school. I was +sixteen years old then; I wore sailor suits and my hair was braided down +my back. Probably I did look young; and then Nannie, whom I was +supposedly visiting, was only fifteen. There were a lot of cousins in the +house besides all the little Hilliards, and what do you think? They made +the children eat in the school-room! I never saw him until Christmas +night; then when we were introduced, he shook my hand in a listless sort +of way, said “How d’y’ do?” and forgot all about me. He went off with the +Glee Club the next day, and I only saw him once more.</p> + +<p>‘We were playing blind man’s buff in the school-room; I had just been +caught by the hair. It hurt and I was squealing. Everybody else was +clapping and laughing, when suddenly the door burst open and there stood +Jerry Junior! He looked straight at me and growled——</p> + +<p>‘“What are you kids making such an infernal racket about?”’</p> + +<p>She shut her eyes.</p> + +<p>‘Aunt Hazel, Dad, just think. He was my first love. His picture was at +that +<span class="pagebreak" title="102"> </span><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a> + moment in a locket around my neck. And he called me a <i>kid</i>!’</p> + +<p>‘And you’ve never seen him since?’ Miss Hazel’s smile expressed amused +indulgence.</p> + +<p>Constance shook her head.</p> + +<p>‘He’s always been away when I’ve visited Nan—and for six years I’ve been +waiting.’ She straightened up with an air of determination. ‘But now, if +he’s on the continent of Europe, I’ll get him!’</p> + +<p>‘And what shall you do with him?’ her father mildly inquired.</p> + +<p>‘Do with him? I’ll make him take it back; I’ll make him eat that word +kid!’</p> + +<p>‘H’m!’ said her father. ‘I hope you’ll get him; he might act as an +antidote to some of these officers.’</p> + +<p>They had run in under the shadow of the mountain and the keel grated on +the shore. Constance raised her eyes and studied the towering crag above +their heads; when she lowered them again, her gaze for an instant met +Tony’s. There was a new light in his eyes—amusement, triumph, something +entirely baffling. He gave her the intangible feeling of having at last +got the mastery of the situation.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + + +<p>The sun was setting behind Monte Maggiore, the fishing smacks were coming +home, Luigi had long since carried the tea things into the house; but +still the two callers +<span class="pagebreak" title="103"> </span><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a> + lingered on the terrace of Villa Rosa. It was +Lieutenant di Ferara’s place to go first since he had come first, and +Captain Coroloni doggedly held his post until such time as his junior +officer should see fit to take himself off. The captain knew, as well as +every one else at the officers’ mess, that in the end the lieutenant +would be the favoured man; for he was a son of Count Guido di Ferara, of +Turin, and titles are at a premium in the American market. But still the +marriage contract was not signed yet, and the fact remained that the +captain had come last; accordingly he waited.</p> + +<p>They had been there fully two hours, and poor Miss Hazel was worn with +the strain. She sat nervously on the edge of her chair, and leaned +forward with clasped hands listening intently. It required very keen +attention to keep the run of either the captain’s or the lieutenant’s +English. A few days before she had laughed at what seemed to be a funny +story, and had later learned that it was an announcement of the death of +the lieutenant’s grandmother. To-day she confined her answers to +inarticulate murmurs which might be interpreted as either assents or +negations as the case required.</p> + +<p>Constance, however, was buoyantly at her ease; she loved nothing better +than the excitement of a difficult situation. As she bridged over pauses, +and unobtrusively +<span class="pagebreak" title="104"> </span><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a> + translated from the officer’s English into real +English, she at the same time kept a watchful eye on the water. She had +her own reasons for wishing to detain the callers until her father’s +return.</p> + +<p>Presently she saw, across the lake, a yellow sailboat float out from the +shadow of Monte Maggiore and head in a long tack toward Villa Rosa. With +this she gave up the task of keeping the conversation general; and +abandoning Captain Coroloni to her aunt, she strolled over to the terrace +parapet with Lieutenant di Ferara at her side. The picture they made was +a charming colour scheme. Constance wore white, the lieutenant pale blue; +an oleander tree beside them showed a cloud of pink blossoms, while +behind them for a background appeared the rose of the villa wall and the +deep green of cypresses against a sunset sky. The picture was +particularly effective as seen from the point of view of an approaching +boat.</p> + +<p>Constance broke off a spray of oleander, and while she listened to the +lieutenant’s recountal of a practice march, she picked up his hat from +the balustrade and idly arranged the flowers in the vizor. He bent toward +her and said something; she responded with a laugh. They were both too +occupied to notice that the boat had floated close in shore, until the +flap of the falling sail announced its presence. Constance +<span class="pagebreak" title="105"> </span><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a> + glanced up +with a start. She caught her father’s eye fixed anxiously upon her; +whatever Gustavo and the officers’ mess of the tenth cavalry might think, +he had not the slightest wish in the world to see his daughter the +Contessa di Ferara. Tony’s face also wore an expression; he was sober, +disgusted, disdainful; there was a glint of anger and determination in +his eye. Constance hurried to the water-steps to greet her father. Of +Tony she took no manner of notice; if a man elects to be a donkey-driver, +he must swallow the insults that go with the part.</p> + +<p>The officers, observing that Luigi was hovering about the doorway waiting +to announce dinner, waived the question of precedence and made their +adieus. While Mr. Wilder and Miss Hazel were intent on the captain’s +laboured farewell speech, the lieutenant crossed to Constance, who still +stood at the head of the water-steps. He murmured something in Italian as +he bowed over her hand and raised it to his lips. Constance blushed very +becomingly as she drew her hand away; she was aware, if the officer was +not, that Tony was standing beside them looking on. But as he raised his +eyes, he too became aware of it; the man’s expression was more than +impertinent. The lieutenant stepped to his side and said something low +and rapid, something which should have +<span class="pagebreak" title="106"> </span><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a> + made a right-minded donkey-driver +touch his hat and slink off. But Tony held his ground with a laugh which +was more impertinent than the stare had been. The lieutenant’s face +flushed angrily, and his hand half instinctively went to his sword. +Constance stepped forward.</p> + +<p>‘Tony! I shall have no further need of your services. You may go.’</p> + +<p>Tony suddenly came to his senses.</p> + +<p>‘I—beg your pardon, Miss Wilder,’ he stammered.</p> + +<p>‘I shall not want you again; please go.’ She turned her back and joined +the others.</p> + +<p>The two officers with final salutes took themselves off. Miss Hazel +hurried indoors to make ready for dinner; Mr. Wilder followed in her +wake, muttering something about finding the change to pay Tony. Constance +stood where they left her, staring at the pavement with hotly burning +cheeks.</p> + +<p>‘Miss Wilder!’ Tony crossed to her side; his manner was humble—actually +humble—the usual mocking undertone in his voice was missing. ‘Really I’m +awfully sorry to have caused you annoyance; it was unpardonable.’</p> + +<p>Constance turned toward him.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, Tony, I think it was. Your position does not give you the right to +insult my guests.’</p> + +<p>Tony stiffened slightly.</p> + +<p>‘I acknowledge that I insulted him, and +<span class="pagebreak" title="107"> </span><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a> + I’m sorry. But he insulted me, +for the matter of that. I didn’t like the way he looked at me, any more +than he liked the way I looked at him.’</p> + +<p>‘There is a certain deference, Tony, which an officer in the Royal +Italian Army has a right to expect from a donkey-driver.’</p> + +<p>Tony shrugged.</p> + +<p>‘It is a difficult position to hold, Miss Wilder. A donkey-driver, I +find, plays the same accommodating rôle as the family watch-dog. You pat +him when you choose; you kick him when you choose; and he is supposed to +swallow both attentions with equal grace.’</p> + +<p>‘You should have chosen another profession.’</p> + +<p>‘Naturally, I was not flattered to find that your real reason for staying +at home to-day, was that you were expecting more entertaining callers.’</p> + +<p>‘Is there any use in discussing it further? I am not going to climb any +more mountains, and I shall not, as I told you, need a donkey-man again.’</p> + +<p>‘Then I’m discharged?’</p> + +<p>‘If you wish to put it so. You must see for yourself that the play has +gone far enough. However, it has been amusing, and we will at least part +friends.’</p> + +<p>She held out her hand; it was a mark of definite dismissal rather than a +token of friendly forgiveness.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="108"> </span><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a> +Tony bowed over her hand in perfect mimicry of the lieutenant’s manner. +‘Signorina, <i>addio</i>!’ He gravely raised it to his lips.</p> + +<p>She snatched her hand away quickly and without glancing at him turned +toward the house. He let her cross half the terrace, then he called +softly—</p> + +<p>‘Signorina!’</p> + +<p>She kept on without pausing. He took a quick step after.</p> + +<p>‘Signorina, a moment!’</p> + +<p>She half turned.</p> + +<p>‘Well?’</p> + +<p>‘I beg of you—one little favour. There are two American ladies expected +at the Hotel du Lac and I thought—perhaps—would you mind writing me a +letter of recommendation?’</p> + +<p>Constance turned back without a word and walked into the house.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilder’s conversation at dinner that night was of the day’s excursion +and Tony. He was elated, enthusiastic, glowing. Mountain-climbing was the +most interesting pursuit in the world; he would begin to-morrow and +exhaust the Alps. And as for Tony—his intelligence, his discretion, his +cleverness—there never had been such a guide. Constance listened +silently, her eyes on her plate. At another time it might have occurred +to her that her father’s enthusiasm was excessive, but to-night she was +occupied with her +<span class="pagebreak" title="109"> </span><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a> + thoughts, and she had no reason in the world to +suspect him of guile. She decided, however, to postpone the announcement +of Tony’s dismissal; to-morrow mountain-climbing might look less +alluring.</p> + +<p>Dinner over, Mr. Wilder, with a tired if satisfied sigh, dropped into a +chair to finish his reading of the London <i>Times</i>. He no longer skimmed +his paper lightly as in the days when papers were to be had hot at any +hour. He read it carefully, painstakingly, from the first advertisement +to the last obituary; and he laid it down in the end with a disappointed +sigh that there were not more residential properties for hire, that the +day’s death list was so meagre.</p> + +<p>Miss Hazel settled herself to her knitting. She was making a rainbow +shawl of seven colours and an intricate pattern, and she had to count her +stitches; conversation was impossible. Constance, vaguely restless, +picked up a book and laid it down, and finally sauntered out to the +terrace with no thought in the world but to see the moon rise over the +mountains.</p> + +<p>As she approached the parapet she became aware that some one was lounging +on the water-steps smoking a cigarette. The smoker rose politely but +ventured no remark.</p> + +<p>‘Is that you, Giuseppe?’ she asked in Italian.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="110"> </span><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a> +‘No, signorina. It is I—Tony. I am waiting for orders.’</p> + +<p>‘For orders!’ There was astonishment as well as indignation in her tone. +‘I thought I made it clear——’</p> + +<p>‘That I was discharged? Yes, signorina. But I have been so fortunate as +to find another place. The Signor Papa has engage me. I go wif him; we +climb all ze mountain around.’ He waved his hand largely to comprise the +whole landscape. ‘I sink perhaps it is better so—for the Signor Papa and +me to go alone. Mountain-climbing is too hard; zere is too much fatigue, +signorina, for you.’</p> + +<p>He bowed humbly and deferentially, and retired to the steps and his +cigarette.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + + +<p>Half-past six on the following morning found Constance and her father +rising from the breakfast table, and Tony turning in at the gate. +Constance’s nod of greeting was barely perceptible, and her father’s eye +contained a twinkle as he watched her. Tony studied her mountain-climbing +costume with an air of concern.</p> + +<p>‘You go wif us, signorina?’ His expression was blended of surprise and +disapproval, but in spite of himself his tone was triumphant. ‘You say to +me yesterday you no want to climb any more mountain.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="111"> </span><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a> +‘I have changed my mind.’</p> + +<p>‘But zis mountain to-day too long, too high. You get tired, signorina. +Perhaps anozzer day we take li’l’ baby mountain, zen you can go.’</p> + +<p>‘I am going to-day.’</p> + +<p>‘It is not possible, signorina. I have not brought ze donk’.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, I’m going to walk.’</p> + +<p>‘As you please, signorina.’</p> + +<p>He sighed patiently. Then he looked up and caught her eye. They both +laughed.</p> + +<p>‘Signorina,’ he whispered, ‘I ver’ happy to-day. Zat Costantina she more +kind. Yesterday ver’ unkind; I go home ver’ sad. But to-day I sink——’</p> + +<p>‘Yes?’</p> + +<p>‘I sink after all maybe she like me li’l’ bit.’</p> + +<p>Giuseppe rowed the three climbers a mile or so down the lake and set them +ashore at the base of their mountain. They started up gaily and had +accomplished half their journey before they thought of being tired. Tony +surpassed himself; if he had been entertaining the day before he was +doubly so now. His spirits were bubbling over and contagious. He and +Constance acted like two children out of school. They ran races and +talked to the peasants in the wayside cottages. They drove a herd of +goats for half a mile while the goatherd strolled behind and smoked +Tony’s cigarettes. Constance took a water-jar from a +<span class="pagebreak" title="112"> </span><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a> + little girl they +met coming from the fountain and endeavoured to balance it on her own +head, with the result that she nearly drowned both herself and the child.</p> + +<p>They finally stopped for luncheon in a grove of chestnut trees with sheep +nibbling on the hill-side below them and a shepherd boy somewhere out of +sight playing on a mouth organ. It should have been a flute, but they +were in a forgiving mood. Constance this time did her share of the work. +She and Tony together spread the cloth and made the coffee while her +father fanned himself and looked on. If Mr. Wilder had any unusual +thoughts in regard to the donkey-man, they were at least not reflected in +his face.</p> + +<p>When they had finished their meal Tony spread his coat under a tree.</p> + +<p>‘Signorina,’ he said, ‘perhaps you li’l’ tired? Look, I make nice place +to sleep. You lie down and rest while ze Signor Papa and me, we have +li’l’ smoke. Zen after one, two hours I come call you.’</p> + +<p>Constance very willingly accepted the suggestion. They had walked five +uphill miles since morning. It was two hours later that she opened her +eyes to find Tony bending over her. She sat up and regarded him sternly. +He had the grace to blush.</p> + +<p>‘Tony, did you kiss my hand?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Scusi</i>, signorina. I ver’ sorry to wake you, but it is tree o’clock and +ze +<span class="pagebreak" title="113"> </span><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a> + Signor Papa he say we must start just now or we nevair get to ze +top.’</p> + +<p>‘Answer my question.’</p> + +<p>‘Signorina, I cannot tell to you a lie. It is true, I forget I am just +poor donkey-man. I play li’l’ game. You sleeping beauty; I am ze prince. +I come to wake you. Just <i>one</i> kiss I drop on your hand—one ver’ little +kiss, signorina.’</p> + +<p>Constance assumed an air of indignant reproof, but in the midst of it she +laughed.</p> + +<p>‘I wish you wouldn’t be so funny, Tony; I can’t scold you as much as you +deserve. But I am angry just the same, and if anything like that ever +happens again I shall be very <i>very</i> angry.’</p> + +<p>‘Signorina, I would not make you very <i>very</i> angry for anysing. As long +as I live nosing like zat shall happen again. No, nevair, I promise.’</p> + +<p>They plunged into a pine wood and climbed for another two hours, the +summit always vanishing before them like a mirage. At the end of that +time they were apparently no nearer their goal than when they had +started. They had followed first one path, then another, until they had +lost all sense of direction, and finally when they came to a place where +three paths diverged, they had to acknowledge themselves definitely lost. +Mr. Wilder elected one path, Tony another, and Constance sat down on a +rock.</p> + +<p>‘I’m not going any farther,’ she observed.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="114"> </span><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a> +‘You can’t stay here all night,’ said her father.</p> + +<p>‘Well, I can’t walk over this mountain all night. We don’t get anywhere; +we merely move in circles. I don’t think much of the guide you engaged. +He doesn’t know his way.’</p> + +<p>‘He wasn’t engaged to know his way,’ Tony retorted. ‘He was engaged to +wear earrings and sing Santa Lucia.’</p> + +<p>Constance continued to sit on her rock while Tony went forward on a +reconnoitring expedition. He returned in ten minutes with the information +that there was a shepherd’s hut not very far off with a shepherd inside +who would like to be friendly. If the signorina would deign to ask some +questions in the Italian language which she spoke so fluently, they could +doubtless obtain directions as to the way home.</p> + +<p>They found the shepherd, the shepherdess and four little shepherds eating +their evening polenta in an earth-floored room, with half a dozen +chickens and the family pig gathered about them in an expectant group. +They rose politely and invited the travellers to enter. It was an event +in their simple lives when foreigners presented themselves at the door.</p> + +<p>Constance commenced amenities by announcing that she had been walking on +the mountain since sunrise and was starving. Did they by chance have any +fresh milk?</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="115"> </span><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a> +‘Starving! <i>Madonna mia</i>, how dreadful!’ Madame held up her hands. But +yes, to be sure they had fresh milk. They kept four cows. That was their +business—turning milk into cheese and selling it on market day in the +village. Also they had some fresh mountain strawberries which Beppo had +gathered that morning—perhaps they too might be pleasing to the +signorina?</p> + +<p>Constance nodded affirmatively, and added, with her eyes on the pig, that +it might be pleasanter to eat outside where they could look at the view. +She became quite gay again over what she termed their afternoon +tea-party, and her father had to remind her most insistently that if they +wished to get down before darkness overtook them they must start at once. +An Italian twilight is short. They paid for the food and presented a lira +apiece to the children, leaving them silhouetted against the sky in a +bobbing row shouting musical farewells.</p> + +<p>Their host led them through the woods and out on to the brow of the +mountain in order to start them down by the right path. He regretted that +he could not go all the way, but the sheep had still to be brought in for +the night. At the parting he was garrulous with directions.</p> + +<p>The easiest way to get home now would be straight down the mountain to +Grotta del Monte—he pointed out the brown-tiled +<span class="pagebreak" title="116"> </span><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a> + roofs of a village far +below them—there they could find donkeys or an ox-cart to take them +back. It was nine kilometres to Valedolmo. They had come quite out of +their way; if they had taken the right path in the morning they would +have reached the top, where the view was magnificent—truly magnificent. +It was a pity to miss it. Perhaps some other day they would like to come +again and he himself would be pleased to guide them. He shook hands and +wished them a pleasant journey. They would best hurry a trifle, he added, +for darkness came fast, and when one got caught on the mountain at +night—he shrugged his shoulders and looked at Tony—one needed a guide +who knew his business.</p> + +<p>They had walked for ten minutes when they heard some one shouting behind +and found a young man calling to them to wait. He caught up with them and +breathlessly explained.</p> + +<p>Pasquale had told him that they were foreigners from America who were +climbing the mountain for diversion and who had lost their way. He was +going down to the village himself and would be pleased to guide them.</p> + +<p>He fell into step beside Constance and commenced asking questions, while +Tony, as the path was narrow, perforce fell behind. Occasionally +Constance translated, but usually she laughed without translating, +<span class="pagebreak" title="117"> </span><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a> + and +Tony, for the twentieth time, found himself hating the Italian language.</p> + +<p>The young man’s question’s were refreshingly ingenuous. He was curious +about America, since he was thinking, he said, of becoming an American +himself some day. He knew a man once who had gone to America to live and +had made a fortune there—but yes, a large fortune—ten thousand lire in +four years. Perhaps the signorina knew him—Giuseppe Motta; he lived in +Buenos Aires. And what did it look like—America? How was it different +from Italy?</p> + +<p>Constance described the sky-scrapers in New York.</p> + +<p>His wonder was intense. A building twenty stories high! <i>Dio mio</i>! He +should hate to mount himself up all those stairs. Were the buildings like +that in the country too? Did the shepherds live in houses twenty stories +high?</p> + +<p>‘Oh no,’ she laughed. ‘In the country the houses are just like these, +only they are made of wood instead of stone.’</p> + +<p>‘Of wood?’ He opened his eyes. ‘But, signorina, do they never burn?’</p> + +<p>He had another question to ask. He had been told—though of course he did +not believe it—that the Indians in America had red skins.</p> + +<p>Constance nodded yes. His eyes opened wider.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="118"> </span><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a> +‘Truly red like your coat?’ with a glance at her scarlet golf jacket.</p> + +<p>‘Not quite,’ she admitted.</p> + +<p>‘But how it must be diverting,’ he sighed, ‘to travel the world over and +see different things.’ He fell silent and trudged on beside her, the +wanderlust in his eyes.</p> + +<p>It was almost dark when they reached the big arched gateway that led into +the village. Here their ways parted and they paused for farewell.</p> + +<p>‘Signorina,’ the young man said suddenly, ‘take me with you back to +America. I will prune your olive trees, I will tend your vines. You can +leave me in charge when you go on your travels.’</p> + +<p>She shook her head with a laugh.</p> + +<p>‘But I have no vines; I have no olive trees. You would be homesick for +Italy.’</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>‘Then good-bye. You, signorina, will go around the world and see many +sights, while I, for travel, shall ride on a donkey to Valedolmo.’</p> + +<p>He shook hands all around and with the grace of a prince accepted two of +Tony’s cigarettes. His parting speech showed him a fatalist.</p> + +<p>‘What will be, will be. There is a girl——’ he waved his hand vaguely in +the direction of the village. ‘If I go to America then I cannot stay +behind and marry Maria. So perhaps it is planned for the +<span class="pagebreak" title="119"> </span><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a> + best. You will +find me, signorina, when next you come to Italy, still digging the ground +in Grotta del Monte.’</p> + +<p>As he swung away Tony glanced after him with a suggestion of malice, then +he transferred his gaze to the empty gateway.</p> + +<p>‘I see no one else with whom you can talk Italian. Perhaps for ten +minutes you will deign to speak English with me?’</p> + +<p>‘I am too tired to talk,’ she threw over her shoulder as she followed her +father through the gate.</p> + +<p>They plunged into a tangle of tortuous paved streets, the houses pressing +each other as closely as if there were not all the outside world to +spread in. Grotta del Monte is built on a slope and its streets are in +reality long narrow flights of stairs all converging in the little +piazza. The moon was not yet up, and aside from an occasional flickering +light before a madonna’s shrine, the way was black.</p> + +<p>‘Signorina, take my arm. I’m afraid maybe you fall.’</p> + +<p>Tony’s voice was humbly persuasive. Constance laughed and laid her hand +lightly on his arm. Tony dropped his own hand over hers and held her +firmly. Neither spoke until they came to the piazza.</p> + +<p>‘Signorina,’ he whispered, ‘you make me ver’ happy to-night.’</p> + +<p>She drew her hand away.</p> + +<p>‘I’m tired, Tony. I’m not quite myself.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="120"> </span><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a> +‘No, signorina, yesterday I sink maybe you not yourself, but to-day you +ver’ good, ver’ kind—jus’ your own self ze way you ought to be.’</p> + +<p>The piazza, after the dark, narrow streets that led to it, seemed +bubbling with life. The day’s work was finished and the evening’s play +had begun. In the centre, where a fountain splashed into a broad bowl, +groups of women and girls with copper water-jars were laughing and +gossiping as they waited their turns. One side of the square was flanked +by the imposing façade of a church with the village saint on a pedestal +in front; the other side, by a cheerfully inviting osteria with tables +and chairs set into the street and a glimpse inside of a blazing hearth +and copper kettles.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilder headed in a straight line for the nearest chair and dropped +into it with an expression of permanence. Constance followed, and they +held a colloquy with a bowing host. He was vague as to the finding of +carriage or donkeys, but if they would +<span class="pagebreak" title="121"> </span><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a> + accommodate themselves until after +supper there would be a diligence along which would take them back to +Valedolmo.</p> + +<p>‘How soon will the diligence arrive?’ asked Constance.</p> + +<p>The man spread out his hands.</p> + +<p>‘It is due in three-quarters of an hour, but it may be early and it may +be late. It arrives when God and the driver wills.’</p> + +<p>‘In that case,’ she laughed, ‘we will accommodate ourselves until after +supper—and we have appetites! Please bring everything you have.’</p> + +<p>They supped on <i>minestra</i> and <i>fritto misto</i> washed down with the red +wine of Grotta del Monte, which, their host assured them, was famous +through all the country. He could not believe that they had never heard +of it in Valedolmo. People sent for it from far off, even from Verona.</p> + +<p>They finished their supper and the famous wine, but there was still no +diligence. The village also had finished its supper and was drifting in +family groups into the piazza. The moon was just showing above the +house-tops, and its light, combined with the blazing braziers before the +cook-shops, made the square a patchwork of brilliant high-lights and +black shadows from deep-cut doorways. Constance sat up alertly and +watched the people crowding past. Across from the inn an itinerant show +had established itself on a rudely improvised stage, with two flaring +torches which threw their light half across the piazza, and turned the +spray of the fountain into an iridescent shower. The gaiety of the scene +was contagious. Constance rose insistently.</p> + +<p>‘Come, Dad; let’s go over and see what they’re doing.’</p> + +<p>‘No, thank you, my dear. I prefer my chair.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="122"> </span><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a> +‘Oh, Dad, you’re so phlegmatic!’</p> + +<p>‘But I thought you were tired.’</p> + +<p>‘I’m not any more; I want to see the play.—You come then, Tony.’</p> + +<p>Tony rose with an elaborate sigh.</p> + +<p>‘As you please, signorina,’ he murmured obediently. An onlooker would +have thought Constance cruel in dragging him away from his well-earned +rest.</p> + +<p>They made their way across the piazza and mounted the church steps behind +the crowd where they could look across obliquely to the little stage. A +clown was dancing to the music of a hurdy-gurdy, while a woman in a +tawdry pink satin evening gown beat an accompaniment on a drum. It was a +very poor play with very poor players, and yet it represented to these +people of Grotta del Monte something of life, of the big outside world +which they in their little village would never see. Their upturned faces +touched by the moonlight and the flare of the torches contained a look of +wondering eagerness—the same look that had been in the eyes of the young +peasant when he had begged to be taken to America.</p> + +<p>The two stood back in the shadow of the doorway watching the people with +the same interest that the people were expending on the stage. A child +had been lifted to the base of the saint’s pedestal in order to see, and +in the excitement of a duel between two clowns he suddenly lost his +balance +<span class="pagebreak" title="123"> </span><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a> + and toppled off. His mother snatched him up quickly and +commenced covering the hurt arm with kisses to make it well.</p> + +<p>Constance laughed.</p> + +<p>‘Isn’t it queer,’ she asked, ‘to think how different these people are +from us and yet how exactly the same. Their way of living is absolutely +foreign, but their feelings are just like yours and mine.’</p> + +<p>He touched her arm and called her attention to a man and a girl on the +step below them. It was the young peasant again who had guided them down +the mountain, but who now had eyes for no one but Maria. She leaned +toward him to see the stage and his arm was around her. Their interest in +the play was purely a pretence, and both of them knew it.</p> + +<p>Tony laughed softly and echoed her words.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, their feelings are just like yours and mine.’</p> + +<p>He slipped his arm around her.</p> + +<p>Constance drew back quickly.</p> + +<p>‘I think,’ she remarked, ‘that the diligence has come.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, hang the diligence!’ Tony growled. ‘Why couldn’t it have been five +minutes late?’</p> + +<p>They returned to the inn to find Mr. Wilder already on the front seat, +and obligingly holding the reins, while the driver occupied himself with +a glass of the +<span class="pagebreak" title="124"> </span><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a> + famous wine. The diligence was a roomy affair of four +seats and three horses. Behind the driver were three Italians +gesticulating violently over local politics; a new <i>sindaco</i> was +imminent. Behind these were three black-hooded nuns covertly interested +in the woman in the pink evening gown. And behind the three, occupying +the exact centre of the rear seat, was a fourth nun with the portly +bearing of a Mother Superior. She was very comfortable as she was, and +did not propose to move. Constance climbed up on one side of her and Tony +on the other.</p> + +<p>‘We are well chaperoned,’ he grumbled, as they jolted out of the piazza. +‘I always did think that the Church interfered too much with the rights +of individuals.’</p> + +<p>Constance, in a spirit of friendly expansiveness, proceeded to pick up an +acquaintance with the nuns, and the four black heads were presently +bobbing in unison, while Tony, in gloomy isolation at his end of the +seat, folded his arms and stared at the road. The driver had passed +through many villages that day and had drunk many glasses of famous wine; +he cracked his whip and sang as he drove. They rattled in and out of +stone-paved villages, along open stretches of moonlit road, past villas +and olive groves. Children screamed after them, dogs barked, Constance +and her four nuns were very +<span class="pagebreak" title="125"> </span><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a> + vivacious, and Tony’s gloom deepened with +every mile.</p> + +<p>They had covered three-quarters of the distance when the diligence was +brought to a halt before a high stone wall and a solid barred gate. The +nuns came back to the present with an excited cackling. Who would believe +they had reached the convent so soon! They made their adieus and +ponderously descended, their departure accelerated by Tony who had become +of a sudden alertly helpful. As they started again he slid along into the +Mother Superior’s empty seat.</p> + +<p>‘What were we saying when the diligence interrupted?’ he inquired.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t remember, Tony, but I don’t want to talk any more; I’m tired.’</p> + +<p>‘You tired, signorina? Lay your head on my shoulder and go to sleep.’</p> + +<p>‘Tony, <i>please</i> behave yourself. I’m simply too tired to make you do it.’</p> + +<p>He reached over and took her hand. She did not try to withdraw it for +two—three minutes; then she shot him a sidewise glance. ‘Tony,’ she +said, ‘don’t you think you are forgetting your place?’</p> + +<p>‘No, signorina, I am just learning it.’</p> + +<p>‘Let go my hand.’</p> + +<p>He gazed pensively at the moon and hummed Santa Lucia under his breath.</p> + +<p>‘Tony! I shall be angry with you.’</p> + +<p>‘I shall be ver’ sorry for zat, signorina. +<span class="pagebreak" title="126"> </span><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a> + I do not wish to make you +angry, but I sink—perhaps you get over it.’</p> + +<p>‘You are behaving abominably to-day, Tony. I shall never stay alone with +you again.’</p> + +<p>‘Signorina, look at zat moon up dere. Is it not ver’ bright? When I look +at zat moon I have always beautiful toughts about how much I love +Costantina.’</p> + +<p>An interval followed during which neither spoke. The driver’s song was +growing louder and the horses were galloping. The diligence suddenly +rounded a curved cliff on two wheels. Constance lurched against him; he +caught her and held her. Her lips were very near his; he kissed her +softly.</p> + +<p>She moved to the far end of the seat and faced him with flushed cheeks. +‘I thought you were a gentleman!’</p> + +<p>‘I used to be, signorina; now I am only poor donkey-man.’</p> + +<p>‘I shall never speak to you again. You can climb as many mountains as you +wish with my father, but you can’t have anything more to do with me.’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Scusi</i>, signorina. I—I did not mean to. It was just an accident, +signorina.’</p> + +<p>Constance turned her back and stared at the road.</p> + +<p>‘It was not my fault. Truly it was not my fault. I did not wish to kiss +you—no nevair. But I could not help it. You put your head too close.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="127"> </span><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a> +She raised her eyes and studied the mountain-top.</p> + +<p>‘Signorina, why you treat me so cruel?’</p> + +<p>Her back was inflexible.</p> + +<p>‘I am desolate. If you forgive me zis once I will nevair again do a sing +so wicked. Nevair, nevair, nevair.’</p> + +<p>Constance continued her inspection of the mountain-top. Tony leaned +forward until he could see her face.</p> + +<p>‘Signorina,’ he whispered, ‘jus’ give me one li’l’ smile to show me you +are not angry for ever.’</p> + +<p>The stage had stopped and Mr. Wilder was climbing down, but Constance’s +gaze was still fixed on the sky, and Tony’s eyes were on her.</p> + +<p>‘What’s the matter, Constance, have you gone to sleep? Aren’t you going +to get out?’</p> + +<p>She came back with a start.</p> + +<p>‘Are we here already?’</p> + +<p>There was a suspicion of regret in her tone which did not escape Tony.</p> + +<p>At the Villa Rosa gates he wished them a humbly deferential good night, +but with a smile hovering about the corners of his mouth. Constance made +no response. As he strode off, however, she turned her head and looked +after him. He turned too and caught her. He waved his hand with a laugh, +and took up his way, whistling Santa Lucia in double time.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2> +<span class="pagebreak" title="128"> </span><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + + +<p>Three days passed in which Mr. Wilder and Tony industriously climbed, and +in which nothing of consequence passed between Constance and Tony. If she +happened to be about when the expeditions either started or came to an +end (and for one reason or another she usually was) she ignored him +entirely; and he ignored her, except for an occasional mockingly +deferential bow. He appeared to extract as much pleasure from the +excursions as Mr. Wilder, and he asked for no extra compensation by the +way.</p> + +<p>It was Tuesday again, just a week and a day since the young American had +dropped over the wall of Villa Rosa asking for the garden of the prince. +Tony and Mr. Wilder were off on a trip; Miss Hazel and Constance on the +point of sitting down to afternoon tea—there were no guests to-day—when +the gardener from the Hotel du Lac appeared with a message from Nannie +Hilliard. She and her aunt had arrived half an hour before, which was a +good two days earlier than they were due. Constance read the note with a +clouded brow and silently passed it to Miss Hazel. The news was not so +entirely welcome as under other circumstances it would have been. Nannie +Hilliard was both perspicacious and fascinating, and +<span class="pagebreak" title="129"> </span><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a> + Constance foresaw +that her presence would tangle further the already tangled plot of the +little comedy which was unfolding itself at Villa Rosa. But Miss Hazel, +divining nothing of comedies or plots, was thrown into a pleasant flutter +by the news. Guests were a luxury which occurred but seldom in the quiet +monotony of Valedolmo.</p> + +<p>‘We must call on them at once and bring them back to the house.’</p> + +<p>‘I suppose we must.’ Constance agreed with an uncordial sigh.</p> + +<p>Fifteen minutes later they were on their way to the Hotel du Lac, while +Elizabetta, on her knees in the villa guest-room, was vigorously +scrubbing the mosaic floor.</p> + +<p>Gustavo hurried out to meet them. He was plainly in a flutter; something +had occurred to upset the usual suavity of his manners.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina, in ze garden—ze two American ladies—having tea. And +you are acquaint wif ze family; all ze time you are acquaint wif zem, and +you never tell me!’ There was mystification and reproach in his tone. +Constance eyed him with a degree of mystification on her side.</p> + +<p>‘I am acquainted with a number of families that I have never told you +about,’ she observed.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Scusi</i>, signorina,’ he stammered; and immediately, ‘Tony, zat +donk’-man, what you do wif him?’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="130"> </span><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a> +‘Oh, he and my father are climbing Monte Brione to-day.’</p> + +<p>‘What time zay come home?’</p> + +<p>‘About seven o’clock, I fancy.</p> + +<p>‘Ze signora and ze signorina—zay come two days before zay are expect.’ +And he was clearly aggrieved by the fact.</p> + +<p>Constance’s mystification increased; she saw not the slightest connexion.</p> + +<p>‘I suppose, Gustavo, you can find them something to eat even if they did +come two days before they were expected?’</p> + +<p>The two turned toward the arbour, but Constance paused for a moment and +glanced back with a shade of mischief in her eye.</p> + +<p>‘By the way, Gustavo, that young man who taught the parrot English has +gone?’</p> + +<p>Gustavo rolled his eyes to the sky and back to her face. She understood +nothing; was there ever a muddle like this?</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina,’ he murmured confusedly, ‘ze yong man is gone.’</p> + +<p>Nannie caught sight of the visitors first, and with a start which nearly +upset the tea table, came running forward to meet them; while her aunt, +Mrs. Eustace, followed more placidly. Nannie was a big wholesome outdoor +girl of a purely American type. She waited for no greetings; she had news +to impart.</p> + +<p>‘Constance, Miss Hazel! I’m so glad to see you—what do you think? I’m +engaged!’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="131"> </span><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a> +Miss Hazel murmured incoherent congratulations, and tried not to look as +shocked as she felt. In her day, no lady would have made so delicate an +announcement in any such off-hand manner as this. Constance received it +in the spirit in which it was given.</p> + +<p>‘Who’s the man?’ she inquired, as she shook hands with Mrs. Eustace.</p> + +<p>‘You don’t know him—Harry Eastman, a friend of Jerry’s. Jerry doesn’t +know it yet, and I had to confide in some one. Oh, it’s no secret; Harry +cabled home—he wanted to get it announced so I couldn’t change my mind. +You see he only had a three weeks’ vacation; he took a fast boat, landed +at Cherbourg, followed us the whole length of France, and caught us in +Lucerne just after Jerry had gone. I couldn’t refuse him after he’d taken +such a lot of trouble. That’s what detained us: we had expected to come a +week ago. And now——’ by a rapid change of expression she became +tragic.—‘We’ve lost Jerry Junior!’</p> + +<p>‘Lost Jerry Junior!’ Constance’s tone was interested. ‘What has become of +him?’</p> + +<p>‘We haven’t an idea. He’s been spirited off—vanished from the earth and +left no trace. Really, we’re beginning to be afraid he’s been captured by +brigands. That head waiter, that Gustavo, knows where he is, but we can’t +get a word out of +<span class="pagebreak" title="132"> </span><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a> + him. He tells a different story every ten minutes. I +looked in the register to see if by chance he’d left an address there, +and what do you think I found?’</p> + +<p>‘Oh!’ said Constance; there was a world of illumination in her tone. +‘What did you find?’ she asked, hastily suppressing every emotion but +polite curiosity.</p> + +<p>‘“Abraham Lincoln” in Jerry’s hand-writing!’</p> + +<p>‘Really!’ Constance dimpled irrepressibly. ‘You are sure Jerry wrote it?’</p> + +<p>‘It was his writing; and I showed it to Gustavo, and what do you think he +said?’</p> + +<p>Constance shook her head.</p> + +<p>‘He said that Jerry had forgotten to register, that that was written by a +Hungarian nobleman who was here last week—imagine a Hungarian nobleman +named Abraham Lincoln!’</p> + +<p>Constance dropped into one of the little iron chairs and bowed her head +on the back and laughed.</p> + +<p>‘Perhaps you can explain?’ There was a touch of sharpness in Nannie’s +tone.</p> + +<p>‘Don’t ever ask me to explain anything Gustavo says; the man is not to be +believed under oath.’</p> + +<p>‘But what’s become of Jerry?’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, he’ll turn up.’ Constance’s tone was comforting. ‘Aunt Hazel,’ she +called. Miss Hazel and Mrs. Eustace, their heads together over the tea +table, were busily making up three months’ dropped +<span class="pagebreak" title="133"> </span><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a> + news. ‘Do you +remember the young man I told you about who popped into our garden last +week? That was Jerry Junior!’</p> + +<p>‘Then you’ve seen him?’ said Nannie.</p> + +<p>Constance related the episode of the broken wall—the sequel she omitted. +‘I hadn’t seen him for six years,’ she added apologetically, ‘and I +didn’t recognize him. Of course if I’d dreamed——’</p> + +<p>Nannie groaned.</p> + +<p>‘And I thought I’d planned it so beautifully!’</p> + +<p>‘Planned what?’</p> + +<p>‘I suppose I might as well tell you since it’s come to nothing. We +hoped—that is, you see—I’ve been so worried for fear Jerry——’ She +took a breath and began again. ‘You know, Constance, when it comes to +getting married, a man has no more sense than a two-year child. So I +determined to pick out a wife for Jerry, myself, one I would like to have +for a sister. I’ve done it three times and he simply wouldn’t look at +them; you can’t imagine how stubborn he is. But when I found we were +coming to Valedolmo, I said to myself, now this is my opportunity; I will +have him marry Connie Wilder.’</p> + +<p>‘You might have asked my permission.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, well, Jerry’s a dear; next to Harry you couldn’t find any one nicer. +But I knew the only way was not to let +<span class="pagebreak" title="134"> </span><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a> + him suspect. I thought, you see, +that you were still staying at the hotel; I didn’t know you’d taken a +villa, so I planned for him to come to meet us three days before we +really expected to get here. I thought in the meantime, being stranded +together in a little hotel, you’d surely get acquainted—Jerry’s very +resourceful that way—and with all this beautiful Italian scenery about, +and nothing to do——’</p> + +<p>‘I see!’ Constance’s tone was somewhat dry.</p> + +<p>‘But nothing happened as I had planned. You weren’t here, he was bored to +death, and I was detained longer than I meant. We got the most pathetic +letter from him the second day, saying there was no one but the head +waiter to talk to, nothing but an india-rubber tree to look at, and if we +didn’t come immediately, he’d do the Dolomites without us. Then finally, +just as we were on the point of leaving, he sent a telegram saying: +“Don’t come. Am climbing mountains. Stay there till you hear from me.” +But being already packed, we came, and this is what we find——’ She +waved her hand over the empty grove.</p> + +<p>‘It serves you right; you shouldn’t deceive people.’</p> + +<p>‘It was for Jerry’s good—and yours too. But what shall we do? He doesn’t +know we’re here and he has left no address.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="135"> </span><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a> +‘Come out to the villa and visit us till he comes to search for you.’</p> + +<p>Constance could hear her aunt delivering the same invitation to Mrs. +Eustace, and she perforce repeated it, though with the inward hope that +it would be declined. She had no wish that Tony and her father should +return from their trip to find a family party assembled on the terrace. +The adventure was not to end with any such tame climax as that. To her +relief they did decline, at least for the night; they could make no +definite plans until they had heard from Jerry. Constance rose upon this +assurance and precipitated their leave-takings; she did not wish her aunt +to press them to change their minds.</p> + +<p>‘Good-bye, Mrs. Eustace, good-bye, Nannie; we’ll be around to-night to +take you sailing—provided there’s any breeze.’</p> + +<p>She nodded and dragged her aunt off; but as they were entering the arbour +a plan for further complicating matters popped into her head, and she +turned back to call—</p> + +<p>‘You are coming to the villa to-morrow, remember, whether Jerry Junior +turns up or not. I’ll write a note and invite him too—Gustavo can give +it to him when he comes, and you needn’t bother any more about him.’</p> + +<p>They found Gustavo hovering omnivorously in the courtyard, hungering for +news; Constance summoned him to her side.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="136"> </span><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></a> +‘Gustavo, I am going to send you a note to-night for Mr. Jerymn Hilliard. +You will see that it gets to him as soon as he arrives?’</p> + +<p>‘Meestair Jayreem Ailyar?’ Gustavo stared.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, the brother of the signorina who came to-day. He is expected +to-morrow or perhaps the day after.’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Scusi</i>, signorina. You—you acquaint wif him?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, certainly. I have known him for six years. Don’t forget to deliver +the note; it’s important.’</p> + +<p>They raised their parasols and departed, while Gustavo stood in the +gateway bowing. The motion was purely mechanical; his thoughts were +labouring elsewhere.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + + +<p>Constance occupied herself upon their return to Villa Rosa in writing the +letter to Jerry Junior. It had occurred to her that this was an excellent +chance to punish him, and it was the working philosophy of her life that +a man should always be punished when opportunity presented. Tony had been +entirely too unconcerned during the past few days; he needed a lesson. +She spent three-quarters of an hour in composing her letter, and tore up +two false starts before she was satisfied. +<span class="pagebreak" title="137"> </span><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a> + It did not contain the +slightest hint that she knew the truth, and—considered in this light—it +was likely to have a chastening effect. The letter ran—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="dateline"> +‘Villa Rosa, Valedolmo,<br /> +‘Lago di Garda. +</p> + +<p>‘<span class="smcap">Dear Jerry Junior</span>: I hope you don’t mind being called “Jerry +Junior,” but “Mr. Hilliard” sounds so absurdly formal, when I have +known your sister so long and so well. We are spending the summer +here in Valedolmo, and Mrs. Eustace and Nannie have promised to +stop with us for a few days, provided you can be persuaded to pause +in your mad rush through Europe. Now please take pity on us—guests +are such unusual luxuries, and as for <i>men</i>! Besides a passing +tourist or so, we have had nothing but Italian officers. You can +climb mountains with my father—Nan says you are a climber—and we +can supply mountains enough to keep you occupied for a month.</p> + +<p>‘My father would write himself, only that he is climbing this +moment.</p> + +<p class="yours"> +‘Yours most cordially,</p> +<p class="signature">‘Constance Wilder +</p> + +<p>‘P.S.—I forgot to mention that we are acquainted already, you and +I. We met six years ago, and you insulted me—under your own roof. +You called me a <i>kid</i>. +<span class="pagebreak" title="138"> </span><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a> + I shall accept nothing but a personal +apology.’</p></div> + +<p>Having read it critically, she sealed and addressed it with malicious +delight; it was calculated to arouse just about the emotions she would +like to have Tony entertain. She gave the note to Giuseppe with +instructions to place it in Gustavo’s hands, and then settled herself +gaily to await results.</p> + +<p>Giuseppe was barely out of sight when the two Alpine climbers appeared at +the gate. Constance had been wondering how she could inform Tony that his +aunt and sister had arrived, without unbending from the dignified silence +of the past three days. The obvious method was to announce it to her +father in Tony’s presence, but her father slipped into the house by the +back way without affording her an opportunity. It was Tony himself who +solved the difficulty. Of his own accord he crossed the terrace and +approached her side. He laid a bunch of edelweiss on the balustrade.</p> + +<p>‘It’s a peace offering,’ he observed.</p> + +<p>She looked at him a moment without speaking. There was a new expression +in her eyes that puzzled Tony, just as the expression in his eyes that +morning on the water had puzzled her. She was studying him in the light +of Jerry Junior. The likeness to the sophomore who six +<span class="pagebreak" title="139"> </span><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a> + years before sang +the funny songs without a smile, was so very striking, she wondered she +could ever have overlooked it.</p> + +<p>‘Thank you, Tony; it is very nice of you.’ She picked up the flowers and +smiled—with the knowledge of the letter that was waiting for him she +could afford to be forgiving.</p> + +<p>‘You discharged me, signorina; will you take me back into your service?’</p> + +<p>‘I am not going to climb any more mountains; it is too fatiguing. I think +it is better for you and my father to go alone.’</p> + +<p>‘I will serve you in other ways.’</p> + +<p>Constance studied the mountains a moment. Should she tell him she knew, +or should she keep up the pretence a little longer? Her insatiable love +of intrigue won.</p> + +<p>‘Are you sure you wish to be taken back?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina, I am very sure.’</p> + +<p>‘Then perhaps you will do me a favour on your way home to-night?’</p> + +<p>‘You have but to ask.’</p> + +<p>‘I wish to send a message to a young American man who is staying at the +Hotel du Lac—you may have seen him?’</p> + +<p>Tony nodded.</p> + +<p>‘I have climb Monte Maggiore wif him. You recommend me; I sank you ver’ +moch. Nice man, zat yong American; ver’ good, +<span class="pagebreak" title="140"> </span><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></a> + ver’ simpatico.’ He leaned +forward with a sudden air of anxiety. ‘Signorina, you—you like zat yong +man?’</p> + +<p>‘I have only met him twice, but—yes, I like him.’</p> + +<p>‘You like him better zan me?’ His anxiety deepened; he hung upon her +word.</p> + +<p>She shook her head reassuringly.</p> + +<p>‘I like you both exactly the same.’</p> + +<p>‘Signorina, which you like better, zat yong American or ze Signor +Lieutenant?’</p> + +<p>‘Your questions are getting too personal, Tony.’</p> + +<p>He folded his arms and sighed.</p> + +<p>‘Will you deliver my message?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina, wif pleasure.’ There was not a trace of curiosity in +his expression, nothing beyond a deferential desire to serve.</p> + +<p>‘Tell him, Tony, that Miss Wilder will be at home to-morrow afternoon at +tea-time; if he will come by the gate and present a card she will be most +pleased to see him. She wishes him to meet an American friend, a Miss +Hilliard, who has just arrived at the hotel this afternoon.’</p> + +<p>She watched him sharply; his expression did not alter by a shade. He +repeated the message and then added as if by the merest chance—</p> + +<p>‘Ze yong American man, signorina—you know his name?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, I know his name.’ This time for +<span class="pagebreak" title="141"> </span><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></a> + the fraction of a second she +surprised a look. ‘His name’—she hesitated tantalizingly—‘is Signor +Abraham Lincoln.’</p> + +<p>‘Signor Ab-ra-ham Lin-coln.’ He repeated it after her as if committing it +to memory. They gazed at each other soberly a moment; then both laughed +and looked away.</p> + +<p>Luigi had appeared in the doorway. Seeing no one more important than Tony +about, he found no reason for delaying the announcement of dinner.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Il pranzo è sulla tavola, signorina.</i>’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Bene</i>!’ said Constance over her shoulder. She turned back to Tony; her +manner was kind. ‘If you go to the kitchen, Tony, Elizabetta will give +you some dinner.’</p> + +<p>‘Sank you, signorina.’ His manner was humble. ‘Elizabetta’s dinners +consist of a plate of garlic and macaroni on the kitchen steps. I don’t +like garlic and I’m tired of macaroni; if it’s just the same to you, I +think I’ll dine at home.’ He held out his hand.</p> + +<p>She read his purpose in his eye and put her own hands behind her.</p> + +<p>‘You won’t shake hands, signorina? We are not friends?’</p> + +<p>‘I learned a lesson the last time.’</p> + +<p>‘You shake hands wif Lieutenant Count Carlo di Ferara.’</p> + +<p>‘It is the custom in Italy.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="142"> </span><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></a> +‘We are in Italy.’</p> + +<p>‘Behave yourself, Tony, and run along home!’</p> + +<p>She laughed and nodded and turned away. On the steps she paused to add—</p> + +<p>‘Be sure not to forget the message for Signor Abraham Lincoln. I shall be +disappointed if he doesn’t come.’</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + + +<p>Tony returned to the Hotel du Lac, modestly, by the back way. He +assured himself that his aunt and sister were well by means of an open +window in the rear of the dining-room. The window was shaded by a clump +of camellias, and he studied at his ease the back of Mrs. Eustace’s +head and Nannie’s vivacious profile as she talked in fluent and +execrable German to the two Alpinists who were, at the moment, the only +other guests. Brotherly affection—and a humorous desire to create a +sensation—prompted him to walk in and surprise them. But saner second +thoughts prevailed; he decided to postpone the reunion until he should +have changed from the picturesque costume of Tony to the soberer garb of +Jerry Junior. He skirted the dining-room by a wide detour, and entered +the courtyard at the side. Gustavo, who for the last hour and a half had +been alertly watchful of four +<span class="pagebreak" title="143"> </span><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></a> + entrances at once, pounced upon him and +drew him to a corner.</p> + +<p>‘Signore,’ in a conspiratorial whisper, ‘zay are come, ze aunt and ze +sister.’</p> + +<p>‘I know—the Signorina Costantina told me so.’</p> + +<p>Gustavo blinked.</p> + +<p>‘But, signore, she does not know it.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, she does—she saw ’em herself.’</p> + +<p>‘I mean, signore, she does not know zat you are ze brover?’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, no, she doesn’t know that.’</p> + +<p>‘But she tell me zat she is acquaint wif ze brover for six years.’ He +shook his head hopelessly.</p> + +<p>‘That’s all right.’ Tony patted his shoulder reassuringly. ‘When she knew +me I used to have yellow hair, but I thought it made me look too girlish, +so I had it dyed black. She didn’t recognize me.’</p> + +<p>Gustavo accepted the explanation with a side-glance at the hair.</p> + +<p>‘Now, pay attention.’ Tony’s tone was slow and distinct.</p> + +<p>‘I am going upstairs to change my clothes. Then I will slip out the back +way with a suit-case, and go down the road and meet the omnibus as it +comes back from the boat landing. You keep my aunt and sister in the +courtyard talking to the parrot or something until the omnibus arrives. +Then when I get out, you come forward with your politest bow and ask +<span class="pagebreak" title="144"> </span><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></a> + me +if I want a room. I’ll attend to the rest—do you understand?’</p> + +<p>Gustavo nodded with glistening eyes. He had always felt stirring within +him powers for diplomacy, for finesse, and he rose to the occasion +magnificently.</p> + +<p>Tony turned away and went bounding upstairs two steps at a time, +chuckling as he went. He, too, was developing an undreamed of appetite +for intrigue, and his capacity in that direction was expanding to meet +it. He had covered the first flight, when Gustavo suddenly remembered the +letter and bounded after.</p> + +<p>‘Signore! I beg of you to wait one moment. Here is a letter from ze +signorina; it is come while you are away.’</p> + +<p>Tony read the address with a start of surprise.</p> + +<p>‘Then she knows!’ There was regret, disillusionment, in his tone.</p> + +<p>It was Gustavo’s turn to furnish enlightenment.</p> + +<p>‘But no, signore, she do not comprehend. She sink Meestair Jayreem Ailyar +is ze brover who is not arrive. She leave it for him when he come.’</p> + +<p>‘Ah!’ Tony ripped it open and read it through with a chuckle. He read it +a second time and his face grew grave. He thrust it into his pocket and +strode away without a word for Gustavo. Gustavo looked after him +reproachfully. As a head waiter, he naturally did not expect to read +<span class="pagebreak" title="145"> </span><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></a> + the +letters of guests; but as a fellow conspirator, he felt that he was +entitled to at least a general knowledge of all matters bearing on the +conspiracy. He turned back downstairs with a disappointed droop to his +shoulders.</p> + +<p>Tony closed his door and walked to the window, where he stood staring at +the roof of Villa Rosa. He drew the letter from his pocket and read it +for the third time slowly, thoughtfully, very, very soberly. The reason +was clear; she was tired of Tony and was looking ahead for fresh worlds +to conquer. Jerry Junior was to come next.</p> + +<p>He understood why she had been so complaisant to-day. She wished the +curtain to go down on the comedy note. To-morrow, the nameless young +American, the ‘Abraham Lincoln’ of the register, would call—by the +gate—would be received graciously, introduced in his proper person to +the guests; the story of the donkey-man would be recounted and laughed +over, and he would be politely asked when he was planning to resume his +travels. This would be the end of the episode. To Constance, it had been +merely an amusing farce about which she could boast when she returned to +America. In her vivacious style it would make a story, just as her first +meeting with Jerry Junior had made a story. But as for the play itself, +for <i>him</i>, she cared nothing. Tony +<span class="pagebreak" title="146"> </span><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a> + the man had made no impression. He +must pass on and give place to Jerry Junior.</p> + +<p>A flush crept over Tony’s face and his mouth took a straighter line as he +continued to gaze down on the roof of Villa Rosa. His reflections were +presently interrupted by a knock. He turned and threw the door open with +a fling.</p> + +<p>‘Well?’ he inquired.</p> + +<p>Gustavo took a step backward.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Scusi</i>, signore, but zay are eating ze dessart and in five—ten minutes +ze omnibus will arrive.’</p> + +<p>‘The omnibus?’ Tony stared. ‘Oh!’ he laughed shortly. ‘I was just joking, +Gustavo.’</p> + +<p>Gustavo bowed and turned down the corridor; there was a look on Tony’s +face that did not encourage confidences. He had not gone half a dozen +steps, however, when the door opened again and Tony called him back.</p> + +<p>‘I am going away to-morrow morning—by the first boat this time—and you +mustn’t let my aunt and sister know. I will write two letters and you are +to take them down to the steward of the boat that leaves to-night. Ask +him to put on Austrian stamps and mail them at Riva, so they’ll get back +here to-morrow. Do you understand?’</p> + +<p>Gustavo nodded and backed away. His disappointment this time was too keen +for +<span class="pagebreak" title="147"> </span><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></a> + words. He saw stretching before him a future like the past, +monotonously bereft of plots and masquerades.</p> + +<p>Tony, having hit on a plan, sat down and put it into instant execution. +Opening his Baedeker, he turned to Riva and picked out the first hotel +that was mentioned. Then he wrote two letters, both short and to the +point; he indulged in none of Constance’s vacillations, and yet in their +way his letters also were masterpieces of illusion. The first was +addressed to Miss Constance Wilder at Villa Rosa. It ran—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="dateline"> +‘Hotel Sole d’Oro,<br /> +‘Riva, Austria. +</p> + +<p>‘<span class="smcap">Dear Miss Wilder</span>: Nothing would give me greater pleasure than +spending a few days in Valedolmo, but unfortunately I am pressed +for time, and am engaged to start Thursday morning with some +friends on a trip through the Dolomites.</p> + +<p>‘Trusting that I may have the pleasure of making your acquaintance +at some future date,</p> + +<p class="yours"> +‘Yours truly,</p> + +<p class="signature"> +‘Jerymn Hilliard, Jr.’ +</p> +</div> + +<p>The second letter was addressed to his sister, but he trusted to luck +that Constance would see it. It ran—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="dateline"> +<span class="pagebreak" title="148"> </span><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></a> +‘Hotel Sole d’Oro,<br /> +‘Riva, Austria. +</p> + +<p>‘<span class="smcap">Dear Nan</span>: Who in thunder is Constance Wilder? She wants us to stop +and make a visit in Valedolmo. I wouldn’t step into that infernal +town, not if the king himself invited me—it’s the deadest hole on +the face of the earth. You can stay if you like and I’ll go on +through the Dolomites alone. There’s an American family stopping +here who are also planning the trip—a stunning girl; I know you’d +like her.</p> + +<p>‘Of course the travelling will be pretty rough. Perhaps you and +Aunt Kate would rather visit your friends and meet me later in +Munich. If you decide to take the trip, you will have to come on +down to Riva as soon as you get this letter, as we’re planning to +pull out Thursday morning.</p> + +<p>‘Sorry to hurry you, but you know my vacation doesn’t last for +ever.</p> + +<p>‘Love to Aunt Kate and yourself,</p> + +<p class="yours"> +‘Yours ever,</p> + +<p class="signature"> +‘Jerry.’</p> +</div> + +<p>He turned the letters over to Gustavo with a five-franc note, leaving +Gustavo to decide with his own conscience whether the money was intended +for himself or the steward of the <i>Regina Margarita</i>. This accomplished, +he slipped out unobtrusively +<span class="pagebreak" title="149"> </span><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></a> + and took the road toward Villa Rosa.</p> + +<p>He strode along with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the path +until he nearly bumped his nose against the villa gate-post. Then he +stopped and thought. He had no mind to be ushered to the terrace, where +he would have to dissemble some excuse for his visit before Miss Hazel +and Mr. Wilder. His business to-night was with Constance, and Constance +alone. He turned and skirted the villa wall, determined on reconnoitring +first. There was a place in the wall—he knew well—where the stones were +missing, and a view was obtainable of the terrace and parapet.</p> + +<p>He reached the place to find Lieutenant Carlo di Ferara already there. +Now the Lieutenant’s purpose was exactly as innocent as Tony’s own; he +merely wished to assure himself that Captain Coroloni was not before him. +It was considered a joke at the tenth cavalry mess to detail one or the +other of the officers to call on the Americans at the same time that +Lieutenant di Ferara called. He was not spying on the family, merely on +his meddling brother officers.</p> + +<p>Tony of course could know nothing of this, and as his eyes fell upon the +lieutenant, there was apparent in their depths a large measure of +contempt. A lieutenant in the Royal Italian Cavalry can afford to +<span class="pagebreak" title="150"> </span><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></a> + be +generous in many things, but he cannot afford to swallow contempt from a +donkey-driver. The signorina was not present this time; there was no +reason why he should not punish the fellow. He dropped his hand on Tony’s +shoulder—on his collar to be exact—and whirled him about. The action +was accompanied by some vigorous colloquial Italian—the gist of it being +that Tony was to mind his own business and mend his manners. The +lieutenant had a muscular arm, and Tony turned. But Tony had not played +quarterback four years for nothing; he tackled low, and the next moment +the lieutenant was rolling down the bank of a dried stream that stretched +at their feet. No one likes to roll down a dusty stony bank, much less an +officer in immaculate uniform on the eve of paying a formal call upon +ladies. He picked himself up and looked at Tony; he was quite beyond +speech.</p> + +<p>Tony looked back and smiled. He swept off his hat with a deferential bow. +‘<i>Scusi</i>,’ he murmured, and jumped over the wall into the grounds of +Villa Rosa.</p> + +<p>The lieutenant gasped. If anything could have been more insultingly +inadequate to the situation than that one word <i>Scusi</i>, it did not at the +moment occur to him. Jeering, blasphemy, vituperation, he might have +excused, but this! The shock jostled him back to a thinking state.</p> + +<p>Here was no ordinary donkey-driver. +151] + The hand that had rested for a +moment on his arm was the hand of a gentleman. The man’s face was +vaguely, elusively familiar; if the lieutenant had not seen him before, +he had at least seen his picture. The man had pretended he could not talk +Italian, but—<i>Scusi</i>—it came out very pat when it was needed.</p> + +<p>An idea suddenly assailed Lieutenant di Ferara. He scrambled up the bank +and skirted the wall, almost on a run, until he reached the place where +his horse was tied. Two minutes later he was off at a gallop, headed for +the house of the prefect of police of Valedolmo.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + + +<p>Tony jumped over the wall. He might have landed in the midst of a family +party; but in so much luck was with him. He found the <i>Farfalla</i> bobbing +at the foot of the water-steps with Mr. Wilder and Miss Hazel already +embarked. They were waiting for Constance, who had obligingly run back to +the house to fetch the rainbow shawl (finished that afternoon) as Miss +Hazel distrusted the Italian night breeze.</p> + +<p>Constance stepped out from the door as Tony emerged from the bushes. She +regarded him in startled surprise; he was still in some slight disarray +from his encounter with the lieutenant.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="152"> </span><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152"></a> +‘May I speak to you, Miss Wilder? I won’t detain you but a moment.’</p> + +<p>She nodded and kept on, her heart thumping absurdly. He had received the +letter, of course; and there would be consequences. She paused at the top +of the water-steps.</p> + +<p>‘You go on,’ she called to the others, and pick me up on your way back. +Tony wants to see me about something, and I don’t like to keep Mrs. +Eustace and Nannie waiting.’</p> + +<p>Giuseppe pushed off and Constance was left standing alone on the +water-steps. She turned as Tony approached; there was a touch of defiance +in her manner.</p> + +<p>‘Well?’</p> + +<p>He came to her side and leaned carelessly against the parapet, his eyes +on the <i>Farfalla</i> as she tossed and dipped in the wash of the <i>Regina +Margarita</i> which was just puffing out from the village landing. Constance +watched him, slightly taken aback; she had expected him to be angry, +sulky, reproachful—certainly not nonchalant. When he finally brought his +eyes from the water, his expression was mildly melancholy.</p> + +<p>‘Signorina, I have come to say good-bye. It is very sad, but to-morrow, I +too’—he waved his hand toward the steamer—‘shall be a passenger.’</p> + +<p>‘You are going away from Valedolmo?’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="153"> </span><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"></a> +He nodded.</p> + +<p>‘Unfortunately, yes. I should like to stay, but’—he shrugged—‘life +isn’t all play, Miss Wilder. Though one would like to be a donkey-man for +ever, one only may be for a summer’s holiday. I am your debtor for a +unique and pleasant experience.’</p> + +<p>She studied his face without speaking. Did it mean that he had got the +letter and was hurt, or did it perhaps mean that he had got the letter +and did not care to appear as Jerry Junior? That he enjoyed the play so +long as he could remain incognito and stop it where he pleased, but that +he had no mind to let it drift into reality? Very possibly it meant—she +flushed at the thought—that he divined Nannie’s plot, and refused also +to consider the fourth candidate.</p> + +<p>She laughed and dropped into their usual jargon.</p> + +<p>‘And the young American man, Signor Abraham Lincoln, will he come +to-morrow for tea?’</p> + +<p>‘Ah, signorina, he is desolated, but it is not possible. He has received +a letter and he must go; he has stopped too long in Valedolmo. To-morrow +morning early, he and I togever, we sail away to Austria.’</p> + +<p>His eyes went back to the trail of smoke left by the little steamer.</p> + +<p>‘And Costantina, Tony. You are leaving her behind?’ It took some courage +to +<span class="pagebreak" title="154"> </span><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154"></a> + put this question, but she did not flinch; she put it with a laugh +which contained nothing but raillery.</p> + +<p>Tony sighed—a deep melodramatic sigh—and laid his hand on his heart.</p> + +<p>‘Ah, signorina, zat Costantina, she has not any heart. She love one man +one day, anozzer ze next. I go away to forget.’</p> + +<p>His eyes dropped to hers; for an instant the mocking light died out; a +questioning wounded look took its place.</p> + +<p>She felt a quick impulse to hold out her hands, to say, ‘Jerry, don’t go! +‘If she only knew! Was he going because he thought that she wished to +dismiss him, or because he wished to dismiss himself? Was it pique that +bade him carry the play to the end, or was it merely the desire to get +out of an awkward situation gracefully?</p> + +<p>She stood hesitating, scanning the terrace pavement with troubled eyes; +when she raised them to his face the chance was gone. He straightened his +shoulders with an air of finality and picked up his hat from the +balustrade.</p> + +<p>‘Some day, signorina, in New York, perhaps I play a little tune underneaf +your window.’</p> + +<p>She nodded and smiled.</p> + +<p>‘I will give the monkey a penny when he comes—good-bye.’</p> + +<p>He bowed over her hand and touched it lightly to his lips.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="155"> </span><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155"></a> +‘Signorina, <i>addio</i>!’</p> + +<p>As he strode away into the dusky lane of cypresses, she heard him +whistling softly ‘Santa Lucia.’ It was the last stroke, she reflected +angrily; he might at least have omitted that! She turned away and dropped +down on the water-steps to wait for the <i>Farfalla</i>. The terrace, the +lake, the beautiful Italian night, suddenly seemed deserted and empty. +Before she knew it was coming, she had leaned her head against the +balustrade with a deep sob. She caught herself sharply. She to sit there +crying, while Tony went whistling on his way!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>As the <i>Farfalla</i> drifted idly over the water, Constance sat in the +stern, her chin in her hand, moodily gazing at the shimmering path of +moonlight. But no one appeared to notice her silence, since Nannie was +talking enough for both. And the only thing she talked about was Jerry +Junior, how funny and clever and charming he was, how phenomenally +good—for a man; when she showed signs of stopping, Mr. Wilder by a +question started her on. It seemed to Constance an interminable two hours +before they dropped their guests in the garden of the Hotel du Lac, and +headed again for Villa Rosa.</p> + +<p>As they approached their own water-steps it became apparent that some +one—a man—was standing at the top in an +<span class="pagebreak" title="156"> </span><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></a> + attitude of expectancy. +Constance’s heart gave a sudden bound and the next instant sank deep. A +babble of frenzied greetings floated out to meet them; there was no +mistaking Gustavo. Moreover, there was no mistaking the fact that he was +excited; his excitement was contagious even before they had learned the +reason. He stuttered in his impatience to share the news.</p> + +<p>‘Signore! <i>Dio mio</i>! A calamity has happened. Zat Tony, zat donk’-man! he +has got hisself arrested. Zay say it is a lie, zat he is American +citizen; he is an officer who is dessert from ze Italian army. Zay say he +just pretend he cannot spik Italian—but it is not true. He know +ten—leven words.’</p> + +<p>They came hurrying up the steps and surrounded him, Mr. Wilder no less +shocked than Gustavo himself.</p> + +<p>‘Arrested—as a deserter? It’s an outrage!’ he thundered.</p> + +<p>Constance laid her hand on Gustavo’s sleeve and whirled him about.</p> + +<p>‘What do you mean? I don’t understand. Where is Tony?’</p> + +<p>Gustavo groaned.</p> + +<p>‘In jail, signorina. Four carabinieri are come to take him away. And he +fight—<i>Dio mio</i>! he fight like ze devil. But zay put—’ he indicated +handcuffs—‘and he go.’</p> + +<p>Constance dropped down on the upper step, and leaning her head against +the balustrade, she laughed until she was weak.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="157"> </span><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157"></a> +Her father whirled upon her indignantly.</p> + +<p>‘Constance! Haven’t you any sympathy for the man? This isn’t a laughing +matter.’</p> + +<p>‘I know, Dad, but it’s so funny—Tony an Italian officer! He can’t +pronounce the ten—’leven words he does know right.’</p> + +<p>‘Of course he can’t; he doesn’t know as much Italian as I do. Can’t these +fools tell an American citizen when they see one? I’ll teach ’em to go +about chucking American citizens in jail. I’ll telegraph the consul in +Milan; I’ll make an international matter of it!’</p> + +<p>He fumed up and down the terrace, while Constance rose to her feet and +followed after with a pretence at pacification.</p> + +<p>‘Hush, Dad! Don’t be so excitable. It was a very natural mistake for them +to make. But if Tony is really what he says he is it will be very easily +proved. You must be sure of your ground, though, before you act. I don’t +like to say anything against poor Tony now that he is in trouble, but I +have always felt that there was a mystery connected with him. For all we +know he may be a murderer or a brigand or an escaped convict in disguise. +We only have his word, you know, that he is an American citizen.’</p> + +<p>‘His word!’ Mr. Wilder fairly exploded. ‘Are you utterly blind? He’s +exactly as much an American citizen as I +<span class="pagebreak" title="158"> </span><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158"></a> + am. He’s——’ He stopped and +fanned himself furiously. He had sworn never to betray Tony’s secret, and +yet, the present situation was exceptional.</p> + +<p>Constance patted him on the arm. ‘There, Dad. I haven’t a doubt his story +is true. He was born in Budapest, and he’s a naturalized American +citizen. It’s the duty of the United States Government to protect +him—but it won’t be difficult; I dare say he’s got his naturalization +papers with him. A word in the morning will set everything straight.’</p> + +<p>‘Leave him in jail all night?’</p> + +<p>‘But you can’t do anything now; it’s after ten o’clock; the authorities +have gone to bed.’</p> + +<p>She turned to Gustavo; her tone was reassuring.</p> + +<p>‘In the morning we’ll get some American warships to bombard the jail.’</p> + +<p>‘Signorina, you joke!’ His tone was reproachful.</p> + +<p>She suddenly looked anxious. ‘Gustavo, is the jail strong?’</p> + +<p>‘Ver’ strong, signorina.’</p> + +<p>‘He can’t escape and get over into Austria? We are very near the +frontier, you know.’</p> + +<p>‘No, signorina, it is impossible.’ He shook his head hopelessly.</p> + +<p>Constance laughed and slipped her hand through her father’s arm.</p> + +<p>‘Come, Dad. The first thing in the +<span class="pagebreak" title="159"> </span><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></a> + morning we’ll go down to the jail and +cheer him up. There’s not the slightest use in worrying any more +to-night. It won’t hurt Tony to be kept in—er—cold storage for a few +hours—I think on the whole it will do him good!’</p> + +<p>She nodded dismissal to Gustavo, and drew her father, still muttering, +toward the house.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + + +<p>Jerry Junior’s letter of regret arrived from Riva on the early mail. In +the light of Constance’s effusively cordial invitation, the terse +formality of his reply was little short of rude; but Constance read +between the lines and was appeased. The writer, plainly, was angry, and +anger was a much more becoming emotion than nonchalance. As she set out +with her father toward the village jail, she was again buoyantly in +command of the situation. She carried a bunch of oleanders, and the pink +and white egg basket swung from her arm. Their way led past the gate of +the Hotel du Lac, and Mr. Wilder, being under the impression that he was +enjoying a very good joke all by himself, could not forgo the temptation +of stopping to inquire if Mrs. Eustace and Nannie had heard any news of +the prodigal. They found the two at breakfast in the courtyard, an open +letter spread before +<span class="pagebreak" title="160"> </span><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></a> + them. Nannie received them with lamentations.</p> + +<p>‘We can’t come to the villa! Here’s a letter from Jerry wanting us to +start immediately for the Dolomites—did you ever know anything so +exasperating?’</p> + +<p>She passed the letter to Constance, and then as she remembered the first +sentence, made a hasty attempt to draw it back. It was too late; +Constance’s eyes had already pounced upon it. She read it aloud with +gleeful malice.</p> + +<p>‘“Who in thunder is Constance Wilder?”—If that’s an example of the +famous Jerry Junior’s politeness, I prefer not to meet him, thank +you.—It’s worse than his last insult; I shall <i>never</i> forgive this!’ She +glanced down the page and handed it back with a laugh; from her point of +vantage it was naïvely transparent. From Mr. Wilder’s point, however, the +contents were inscrutable; he looked from the letter to his daughter’s +serene smile, and relapsed into a puzzled silence.</p> + +<p>‘I should say, on the contrary, that he <i>doesn’t</i> want you to start +immediately for the Dolomites,’ Constance observed.</p> + +<p>‘It’s a girl,’ Nannie groaned. ‘I suspected it from the moment we got the +telegram in Lucerne. Oh, why did I ever let that wretched boy get out of +my sight?’</p> + +<p>‘I dare say she’s horrid,’ Constance put in. ‘One meets such frightful +Americans travelling.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="161"> </span><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161"></a> +‘We will go up to Riva on the afternoon boat and investigate.’ It was +Mrs. Eustace who spoke. There was an undertone in her voice which +suggested that she was prepared to do her duty by her brother’s son, +however unpleasant that duty might be.</p> + +<p>‘American girls are so grasping,’ said Nannie plaintively. ‘It’s scarcely +safe for an unattached man to go out alone.’</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilder leaned forward and reexamined the letter.</p> + +<p>‘By the way, Miss Nannie, how did Jerry learn that you were here? His +letter, I see, was mailed in Riva at ten o’clock last night.’</p> + +<p>Nannie examined the postmark. ‘I hadn’t thought of that! How could he +have found out—unless that beast of a head waiter telegraphed? What does +it mean?’</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilder spread out his hands and raised his shoulders. ‘You’ve got +me!’ A gleam of illumination suddenly flashed over his face; he turned to +his daughter with what was meant to be a carelessly off-hand manner. +‘Er—Constance, while I think of it, you didn’t discharge Tony again +yesterday, did you?’</p> + +<p>Constance opened her eyes.</p> + +<p>‘Discharge Tony? Why should I do that? He isn’t working for me.’</p> + +<p>‘You weren’t rude to him?’</p> + +<p>‘Father, am I ever rude to any one?’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="162"> </span><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></a> +Mr. Wilder looked at the envelope again and shook his head. ‘There’s +something mighty fishy about this whole business. When you get hold of +that brother of yours again, my dear young woman, you make him tell what +he’s been up to this week—and make him tell the truth.’</p> + +<p>‘Mr. Wilder!’ Nannie was reproachful. ‘You don’t know Jerry; he’s +incapable of telling anything but the truth.’</p> + +<p>Constance tittered.</p> + +<p>‘What are you laughing at, Constance?’</p> + +<p>‘Nothing—only it’s so funny. Why don’t you advertise for him? Lost—a +young man, age twenty-eight, height five feet eleven, weight one hundred +and seventy pounds, dark hair, grey eyes, slight scar over left eyebrow; +dressed when last seen in double-breasted blue serge suit and brown +russet shoes. Finder please return to Hotel du Lac and receive liberal +reward.’</p> + +<p>‘He isn’t lost,’ said Nannie. ‘We know where he is perfectly; he’s at the +Hotel Sole d’Oro in Riva, and that’s at the other end of the lake. We’re +going up on the afternoon boat to join him.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh!’ said Constance meekly.</p> + +<p>‘You take my advice,’ Mr. Wilder put in. ‘Go up to Riva if you must—it’s +a pleasant trip—but leave your luggage here. See this young man in +person and bring him back with you; tell him we have +<span class="pagebreak" title="163"> </span><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></a> + just as good +mountains as he’ll find in the Dolomites. If by any chance you shouldn’t +find him——’</p> + +<p>‘Of course, we’ll find him!’ said Nannie.</p> + +<p>Constance looked troubled.</p> + +<p>‘Don’t go, it’s quite a long trip. Write instead and give the letter to +Gustavo; he’ll give it to the boat steward who will deliver it +personally. Then if Jerry shouldn’t be there——’</p> + +<p>Nannie was losing her patience.</p> + +<p>‘Shouldn’t be there? But he <i>says</i> he’s there.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh! yes, certainly, that ends it. Only, you know, Nannie, <i>I</i> don’t +believe there really is any such person as Jerry Junior! I think he’s a +myth.’</p> + +<p>Gustavo had been hanging about the gate looking anxiously up the road as +if he expected something to happen. His brow cleared suddenly as a boy on +a bicycle appeared in the distance. The boy whirled into the court and +dismounted; glancing dubiously from one to the other of the group, he +finally presented his telegram to Gustavo, who passed it on to Nannie. +She ripped it open and ran her eyes over the contents.</p> + +<p>‘Can any one tell me the meaning of this? It’s Italian!’ She spread it on +the table while the three bent over it in puzzled wonder.</p> + +<p>‘Ceingide mai maind dunat comtu Riva stei in Valedolmo geri.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="164"> </span><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></a> +Constance was the first to grasp the meaning; she read it twice and +laughed.</p> + +<p>‘That’s not Italian; it’s English, only the operator has spelt it +phonetically—I begin to believe there is a Jerry,’ she added, ‘no one +could cause such a bother who didn’t exist.’ She picked up the slip and +translated—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>‘“Changed my mind. Do not come to Riva; stay in Valedolmo—<span class="smcap">Jerry</span>.”’</p></div> + +<p>‘I’m a clairvoyant, you see. I told you he wouldn’t be there!’</p> + +<p>‘But where is he?’ Nannie wailed.</p> + +<p>Constance and her father glanced tentatively at each other, and were +silent. Gustavo, who had been hanging officiously in the rear, approached +and begged their pardon.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Scusi</i>, signora, but I sink I can explain. <i>Ecco</i>! Ze telegram is dated +from Limone—zat is a village close by here on ze ozzer side of ze lake. +He is gone on a walking trip, ze yong man, of two—tree days wif an +Englishman who is been in zis hotel. If he expect you so soon he would +not go. But patience, he will come back. Oh, yes, in a little while, +after one—two day he come back.’</p> + +<p>‘What is the man talking about?’ Mrs. Eustace was both indignant and +bewildered. ‘Jerry was in Riva yesterday at +<span class="pagebreak" title="165"> </span><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></a> + the Hotel Sole d’Oro. How +can he be on a walking trip at the other end of the lake to-day?’</p> + +<p>‘You don’t suppose’—Nannie’s voice was tragic—‘that he has eloped with +that American girl?’</p> + +<p>‘Good heavens, my dear!’ Mrs. Eustace appealed to Mr. Wilder. ‘What are +the laws in this dreadful country? Don’t banns or something have to be +published three weeks before the ceremony can take place?’</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilder rose hastily.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, yes, dear lady. It’s impossible; don’t consider any such +catastrophe for a moment. Come, Constance, I really think we ought to be +going.—Er, you see, Mrs. Eustace, you can’t believe—that is, don’t let +anything Gustavo says trouble you. With all respect for his many fine +qualities, he has not Jerry’s regard for truth. And don’t bother any more +about the boy; he will turn up in a day or so. He may have written some +letters of explanation that you haven’t got. These foreign mails——’ He +edged toward the gate.</p> + +<p>Constance followed him and then turned back.</p> + +<p>‘We’re on our way to the jail,’ she said, ‘to visit our donkey-driver, +who has managed to get himself arrested. While we’re there we can make +inquiries if you like; it’s barely possible that they might have got hold +of Jerry on some false +<span class="pagebreak" title="166"> </span><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></a> + charge or other. These foreign jails——’</p> + +<p>‘Constance!’ said Nannie reproachfully.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, my dear, I was only joking; of course it’s impossible. Good-bye.’ +She nodded and laughed and ran after her father.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + + +<p>If one must go to jail at all one could scarcely choose a more +entertaining jail than that of Valedolmo. It occupies a structure which +was once a palace; and its cells, planned for other purposes, are +spacious. But its most gratifying feature, to one forcibly removed from +social intercourse, is its outlook. The windows command the Piazza +Garibaldi, which is the social centre of the town; it contains the +village post, the fountain, the tobacco shop, the washing-trough, and the +two rival cafés, the ‘Independenza’ and the ‘Libertà.’ The piazza is +always dirty and noisy—that goes without saying—but on Wednesday +morning at nine o’clock, it is peculiarly dirty and noisy. Wednesday is +Valedolmo’s market day, and the square is so cluttered with booths and +hucksters and anxious buyers, that the peaceable pedestrian can scarcely +wedge his way through. The noise moreover is deafening; above the cries +of vendors and buyers rises a shriller chorus of bleating kids and +squealing pigs and braying donkeys.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="167"> </span><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></a> +Mr. Wilder, red in the face and short of temper, pushed through the crowd +with little ceremony, prodding on the right with his umbrella, on the +left with his fan, and using his elbows vigorously. Constance, serenely +cool, followed in his wake, nodding here and there to a chance +acquaintance, smiling on every one; the spectacle to her held always +fresh interest. An image vendor close at her elbow insisted that she +should buy a Madonna and Bambina for fifty centesimi, or at least a San +Giuseppe for twenty-five. To her father’s disgust she bought them both, +and presented them to two wide-eyed children who in bashful fascination +were dogging their footsteps.</p> + +<p>The appearance of the foreigners in the piazza caused such a ripple of +interest, that for a moment the bargaining was suspended. When the two +mounted the steps of the jail and jerked the bell, as many of the +bystanders as the steps would accommodate mounted with them. Nobody +answered the first ring, and Constance pulled again with a force which +sent a jangle of bells echoing through the interior. After a second’s +wait—snortingly impatient on Mr. Wilder’s part; he was being pressed +close by the none too clean citizens of Valedolmo—the door was opened a +very small crack by a frowsy jailoress. Her eye fell first upon the +crowd, and she was disposed to close it again; but in the act +<span class="pagebreak" title="168"> </span><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></a> + she caught +sight of the Signorina Americana dressed in white, smiling above a +bouquet of oleanders. Her eyes widened with astonishment. It was long +since such an apparition had presented itself at that door. She dropped a +curtsy, and the crack widened.</p> + +<p>‘Your commands, signorina?’</p> + +<p>‘We, wish to come in.’</p> + +<p>‘But it is against the orders. Friday is visiting-day at thirteen +o’clock. If the signorina had a <i>permesso</i> from the <i>sindaco</i>, why +then——’</p> + +<p>The signorina shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. She had no +<i>permesso</i> and it was too much trouble to get one. Besides, the +<i>sindaco’s</i> office didn’t open till ten o’clock. She glanced down; there +was a shining two-franc piece in her hand. Perhaps the jailoress would +allow them to step inside away from the crowd, and she would explain?</p> + +<p>This sounded reasonable; the door opened farther and they squeezed +through. It banged in the faces of the disappointed spectators, who +lingered hopefully a few moments longer, and then returned to their +bargaining. Inside the big damp stone-walled corridor Constance drew a +deep breath and smiled upon the jailoress; the jailoress smiled back. +Then as a preliminary skirmish, Constance presented the two-franc piece; +and the jailoress dropped a curtsy.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="169"> </span><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169"></a> +‘We have heard that Antonio, our donkey-driver, has been arrested for +deserting from the army and we have come to find out about it. My father, +the signore here’—she waved her hand toward Mr. Wilder—‘likes Antonio +very much, and is quite sure that it is a mistake.’</p> + +<p>The woman’s mouth hardened; she nodded with emphasis.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Già</i>. We have him, the man Antonio, if that is his name. He may not be +the deserter they search—I do not know—but if he is not the deserter he +is something else. You should have heard him last night, signorina, when +they brought him in. The things he said! They were in a foreign tongue; I +did not understand, but I <i>felt</i>. Also he kicked my husband—kicked him +quite hard so that he limps to-day. And the way he orders us about! You +would think he were a prince in his own palace and we were his servants. +Nothing is good enough for him. He objected to the room we gave him first +because it smelt of the cooking. He likes butter with his bread and hot +milk with his coffee. He cannot smoke the cigars which my husband bought +for him, and they cost three soldi apiece. And this morning’—her voice +rose shrilly as she approached the climax—‘he called for a bath. It is +true, signorina, a <i>bath</i>. <i>Dio mio</i>, he wished me to carry the entire +village fountain to his room!’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="170"> </span><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170"></a> +‘Not really?’ Constance opened her eyes in shocked surprise. ‘But surely, +signora, you did not do it?’</p> + +<p>The woman blinked.</p> + +<p>‘It would be impossible, signorina,’ she contented herself with saying.</p> + +<p>Constance, with grave concern, translated the sum of Tony’s enormities to +her father; and turned back to the jailoress apologetically.</p> + +<p>‘My father is very much grieved that the man should have caused you so +much trouble. But he says, that if we could see him, we could persuade +him to be more reasonable. We talk his language, and can make him +understand.’</p> + +<p>The woman winked meaningly.</p> + +<p>‘Eh—he pretends he cannot talk Italian, but he understands enough to ask +for what he wishes. I think—and the Signor-Lieutenant who ordered his +arrest thinks—that he is shamming.’</p> + +<p>‘It was a lieutenant who ordered his arrest? Do you remember his +name—was it Carlo di Ferara?’</p> + +<p>‘It might have been.’ Her face was vague.</p> + +<p>‘Of the cavalry?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si</i>, signorina, of the cavalry—and very handsome.’</p> + +<p>Constance laughed. ‘Well, the plot thickens! Dad, you must come to Tony’s +hearing this afternoon, and put it tactfully to our friend the lieutenant +that we +<span class="pagebreak" title="171"> </span><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171"></a> + don’t like to have our donkey-man snatched away without our +permission.’ She turned back to the jailoress. ‘And now, where is the +man? We should like to speak with him.’</p> + +<p>‘It is against the orders, but perhaps—I have already permitted the head +waiter from the Hotel du Lac to carry him newspapers and cigarettes. He +says that the man Antonio is in reality an American nobleman from New +York, who merely plays at being a donkey-driver for diversion, and that +unless he is set at liberty immediately a ship will come with cannon, +but—we all know Gustavo, signorina.’</p> + +<p>Constance nodded and laughed.</p> + +<p>‘You have reason! We all know Gustavo—may we go right up?’</p> + +<p>The jailoress called the jailor. They talked aside; the two-franc piece +was produced as evidence. The jailor with a great show of caution got out +a bunch of keys and motioned them to follow. Up two flights and down a +long corridor with peeling frescoes on the walls—nymphs and cupids and +garlands of roses; most incongruous decorations for a jail—at last they +paused before a heavy oak door. Their guide tried two wrong keys, swore +softly as each failed to turn, and finally with an exclamation of triumph +produced the right one. He swung the door wide and stepped back with a +bow.</p> + +<p>A large room was revealed, brick-floored +<span class="pagebreak" title="172"> </span><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"></a> + and somewhat scanty as to +furniture, but with a view—an admirable view, if one did not mind it +being checked off into iron squares. The most conspicuous object in the +room, however, was its occupant, as he sat, in an essentially American +attitude, with his chair tipped back and his feet on the table. A cloud +of tobacco smoke and a wide-spread copy of a New York paper concealed him +from too impertinent gaze. He did not raise his head at the sound of the +opening door, but contented himself with growling——</p> + +<p>‘Confound your impudence! You might at least knock before you come in.’</p> + +<p>Constance laughed and advanced a hesitating step across the threshold. +Tony dropped his paper and sprang to his feet, his face, assuming a shade +of pink only less vivid than the oleanders. She shook her head +sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t need to tell you, Tony, how shocked we are to find you in such a +place. Our trust has been rudely shaken; we had not supposed we were +harbouring a deserter.’</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilder stepped forward and held out his hand; there was a twinkle in +his eye, which he struggled manfully to suppress.</p> + +<p>‘Nonsense, Tony, we don’t believe a word of it. You a deserter from the +Italian army? It’s preposterous! Where are your naturalization papers?’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="173"> </span><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a> +‘Thank you, Mr. Wilder, but I don’t happen to have my papers with me—I +trust it won’t be necessary to produce them. You see’—his glance rested +entirely on Mr. Wilder; he studiously overlooked Constance’s +presence—‘this Angelo Fresi, the fellow they are after, got into a +quarrel over a gambling debt and struck a superior officer. To avoid +being court-martialled he lit out; it happened a month ago in Milan and +they’ve been looking for him ever since. Now last night I had the +misfortune to tip Lieutenant Carlo di Ferara over into a ditch. The +matter was entirely accidental, and I regretted it very much. I, of +course, apologized. But what did the lieutenant do but take it into his +head that I, being an assaulter of superior officers, was, by a priori +reasoning, this Angelo Fresi in disguise. Accordingly’—he waved his hand +around the room—‘you see me here.’</p> + +<p>‘It’s an imposition! Depriving an American citizen of his liberty on any +such trumped-up charge as that! I’ll telegraph the consul in Milan. +I’ll——’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, don’t trouble. I’ll get off this afternoon; they’ve sent for some +one to identify me, and if he doesn’t succeed, I don’t see how they can +hold me. In the meantime, I’m comfortable enough.’</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilder’s eye wandered about the room. ‘H’m, it isn’t bad for a jail! +Got everything you need—tobacco, papers?’ +<span class="pagebreak" title="174"> </span><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174"></a> + What’s this, New York <i>Sun</i> +only ten days old?’ He picked it up and plunged into the headlines.</p> + +<p>Constance turned from the window and glanced casually at Tony.</p> + +<p>‘You didn’t go to Austria after all?’</p> + +<p>‘I was detained; I hope to get off to-morrow.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, before I forget it.’ She removed the basket from her arm and set it +on the table. ‘Here is some lemon jelly, Tony. I couldn’t remember +whether one takes lemon jelly to prisoners or invalids—I’ve never known +any prisoners before, you see. But anyway, I hope you’ll like it; +Elizabetta made it.’</p> + +<p>He bowed stiffly. ‘I beg of you to convey my thanks to Elizabetta.’</p> + +<p>‘Tony!’ She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and glanced +apprehensively over her shoulder to see if the jailor were listening. ‘If +by any chance they <i>should</i> identify you as that deserter, just get word +to me and I will have Elizabetta bake you a veal pasty with a rope ladder +and a file inside. I would have had her bake it this morning, only +Wednesday is ironing-day at the villa, and she was so awfully busy——’</p> + +<p>‘This is your innings,’ Tony rejoined somewhat sulkily. ‘I hope you’ll +get all the entertainment you can out of the situation.’</p> + +<p>‘Thank you, Tony, that’s kind. Of course,’ she added with a plaintive +note +<span class="pagebreak" title="175"> </span><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175"></a> + in her voice, ‘this must be tiresome for you; but it is a pleasant +surprise for me. I was feeling very sad last night, Tony, at the thought +that you were going to Austria and that I should never, never see you any +more.’</p> + +<p>‘I wish I knew whether there’s any truth in that statement or not!’</p> + +<p>‘Any truth! I realize well, that I might search the whole world over and +never find another donkey-man who sings such beautiful tenor, who wears +such lovely sashes and such becoming earrings. Why, Tony’—she took a +step nearer and her face assumed a look of consternation—‘you’ve lost +your earrings!’</p> + +<p>He turned his back and walked to the window, where he stood moodily +staring at the market. Constance watched his squared shoulders dubiously +out of the corner of her eye; then she glanced momentarily into the hall +where the jailor was visible his face flattened against the bars of an +open window; and from him to her father, still deep in the columns of his +paper, oblivious to both time and place. She crossed to Tony and stood at +his side, peering down at the scene below.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t suppose it will interest you,’ she said in an off-hand tone, her +eyes still intent on the crowd, ‘but I got a letter this morning from a +young man who is stopping at the Sole d’Oro in Riva—a very rude letter, +I thought.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="176"> </span><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"></a> +He whirled about.</p> + +<p>‘You know!’</p> + +<p>‘It struck me that the person who wrote it was in a temper and might +afterwards be sorry for having hurt my feelings, and so’—she raised her +eyes momentarily to his—‘the invitation is still open.’</p> + +<p>‘Tell me,’ there was both entreaty and command in his tone, ‘did you know +the truth before you wrote that letter?’</p> + +<p>‘You mean, did I know whom I was inviting? Assuredly! Do you think it +would have been dignified to write such an informal invitation to a +person I did not know?’</p> + +<p>She turned away quickly and laid her hand on her father’s shoulder.</p> + +<p>‘Come, Dad, don’t you think we ought to be going? Poor Tony wants to read +the paper himself.’</p> + +<p>Mr. Wilder came back to the jail and his companions with a start.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, eh, yes, I think perhaps we ought. If they don’t let you out this +afternoon, Tony, I’ll make matters lively for ’em, and if there’s +anything you need, send word by Gustavo—I’ll send back later.’ He fished +in his pockets and brought up a handful of cigars. ‘Here’s something +better than lemon jelly, and they’re not from the tobacco shop in +Valedolmo either.’</p> + +<p>He dropped them on the table and +<span class="pagebreak" title="177"> </span><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177"></a> + turned toward the door; Constance +followed with a backward glance.</p> + +<p>‘Good-bye, Tony; don’t despair. Remember that it’s always darkest before +the dawn, and that whatever others think, Costantina and I believe in +you. <i>We</i> know that you are incapable of telling anything but the truth!’ +She had almost reached the door when she became aware of the flowers in +her hand; she hurried back. ‘Oh, I forgot! Costantina sent these with +her—with——’ She faltered; her audacity did not go quite that far.</p> + +<p>Tony reached for them. ‘With what?’ he insisted.</p> + +<p>She laughed; and a second later the door closed behind her. He stood +staring at the door till he heard the key turn in the lock, then he +looked down at the flowers in his hand. A note was tied to the stems; his +fingers trembled as he worked with the knot.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Caro Antonio mio</i>,’ it commenced; he could read that. ‘<i>La sua +Costantina</i>,’ it ended; he could read that. But between the two was an +elusive, tantalizing hiatus. He studied it and put it in his pocket and +took it out and studied it again. He was still puzzling over it half an +hour later when Gustavo came to inquire if the signore had need of +anything.</p> + +<p>Had he need of anything! He sent Gustavo flying to the stationer’s in +search of an Italian-English dictionary.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="178"> </span><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178"></a> +It was four o’clock in the afternoon and all the world—except +Constance—was taking a siesta. The <i>Farfalla</i>, anchored at the foot of +the water-steps in a blaze of sunshine, was dipping up and down in drowsy +harmony with the lapping waves; she was for the moment abandoned, +Giuseppe being engaged with a nap in the shade of the cypress trees at +the end of the drive. He was so very engaged that he did not hear the +sound of an approaching carriage, until the horse was pulled to a sudden +halt to avoid stepping on him. Giuseppe staggered sleepily to his feet +and rubbed his eyes. He saw a gentleman descend, a gentleman clothed as +for a wedding, in a frock coat and a white waistcoat, in shining hat and +pearl grey gloves and a boutonnière of oleander. Having paid the driver +and dismissed the carriage, the gentleman fumbled in his pocket for his +card-case. Giuseppe hurrying forward with a polite bow, stopped suddenly +and blinked. He fancied that he must still be dreaming; he rubbed his +eyes and stared again, but he found the second inspection more +confounding than the first. The gentleman looked back imperturbably, no +slightest shade of recognition in his glance, unless a gleam of amusement +far, far down in the depths of his eye might be termed recognition. He +extracted a card with grave deliberation and handed it to his companion.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="179"> </span><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a> +‘<i>Voglio vedere la Signorina Costantina</i>,’ he remarked.</p> + +<p>The tone, the foreign accent, were both reminiscent of many a friendly +though halting conversation. Giuseppe stared again, appealingly, but the +gentleman did not help him out; on the contrary he repeated his request +in a slightly sharpened tone.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Si, signore</i>,’ Giuseppe stammered. ‘<i>Prego di verire. La signorina è +nel giardino.</i>’</p> + +<p>He started ahead toward the garden, looking behind at every third step to +make sure that the gentleman was still following, that he was not merely +a figment of his own sleepy senses. Their direction was straight toward +the parapet where, on an historic wash-day, the signorina had sat beside +a row of dangling stockings. She was sitting there now, dressed in white, +the oleander tree above her head enveloping her in a glowing and fragrant +shade. So occupied was she with a dreamy contemplation of the mountains +across the lake that she did not hear footsteps until Giuseppe paused +before her and presented the card. She glanced from this to the visitor, +and extended a friendly hand.</p> + +<p>‘Mr. Hilliard! Good afternoon.’</p> + +<p>There was nothing of surprise in her greeting; evidently she did not find +the visit extraordinary. Giuseppe stared, his +<span class="pagebreak" title="180"> </span><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></a> +mouth and eyes at their +widest, until the signorina dismissed him; then he turned and walked +back—staggered back almost—never before not even late at night on +Corpus Domini day, had he had such overwhelming reason to doubt his +senses.</p> + +<p>Constance turned to the visitor, and swept him with an appreciative +glance, her eye lingering a second on the oleander in his buttonhole.</p> + +<p>‘Perhaps you can tell me, is Tony out of jail? I am so anxious to know.’</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>‘Found guilty and sentenced for life; you’ll never see him again.’</p> + +<p>‘Ah; poor Tony! I shall miss him.’</p> + +<p>‘I shall miss him too; we’ve had very good times together.’</p> + +<p>Constance suddenly became aware that her guest was still standing; she +moved along and made place on the wall. ‘Won’t you sit down? Oh, excuse +me,’ she added with an anxious glance at his clothes, ‘I’m afraid you’ll +get dusty; it would be better to bring a chair.’ She nodded toward the +terrace.</p> + +<p>He sat down beside her.</p> + +<p>‘I am only too honoured; the last time I came you did not invite me to +sit on the wall.’</p> + +<p>‘I am sorry if I appeared inhospitable, but you came so unexpectedly, Mr. +Hilliard.’</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="181"> </span><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181"></a> +‘Why “Mr. Hilliard”? When you wrote you called me “dear Jerry.”’</p> + +<p>‘That was a slip of the pen; I hope you will excuse it.’</p> + +<p>‘When I wrote I called you “Miss Wilder”; that was a slip of the pen too. +What I meant to say was, “dear Constance.”’</p> + +<p>She let this pass without comment.</p> + +<p>‘I have an apology to make.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes?’</p> + +<p>‘Once, a long time ago, I insulted you; I called you a kid. I take it +back; I swallow the word. You were never a kid.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh,’ she dimpled, and then, ‘I don’t believe you remember a thing about +it?’</p> + +<p>‘Connie Wilder, a little girl in a blue sailor suit, and two nice fat +braids of yellow hair dangling down her back with red bows on the +ends—very convenient for pulling.’</p> + +<p>‘You are making that up. You don’t remember.’</p> + +<p>‘Ah, but I do! And as for the racket you were making that afternoon, it +was, if you will permit the expression, <i>infernal</i>. I remember it +distinctly; I was trying to cram for a math. exam.’</p> + +<p>‘It wasn’t I. It was your bad little sisters and brothers and cousins.’</p> + +<p>‘It was you, dear Constance. I saw you with my own eyes; I heard you with +my own ears.’</p> + +<p>‘Bobbie Hilliard was pulling my hair.’</p> + +<p>‘I apologize on his behalf, and with that +<span class="pagebreak" title="182"> </span><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182"></a> + we will close the incident. +There is something much more important which I wish to talk about.’</p> + +<p>‘Have you seen Nannie?’ She offered this hastily, not to allow a pause.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, dear Constance, I have seen Nannie.’</p> + +<p>‘Call me “Miss Wilder,” please.’</p> + +<p>‘I’ll be hanged if I will! You’ve been calling me Tony and Jerry and +anything else you chose ever since you knew me—and long before for the +matter of that.’</p> + +<p>Constance waived the point.</p> + +<p>‘Was she glad to see you?’</p> + +<p>‘She’s always glad to see me.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, don’t be so provoking! Give me the particulars. Was she surprised? +How did you explain the telegrams and letters and Gustavo’s stories? I +should think the Hotel Sole d’Oro at Riva and the walking trip with the +Englishman must have been difficult.’</p> + +<p>‘Not in the least; I told the truth.’</p> + +<p>‘The truth! Not all of it?’</p> + +<p>‘Every word.’</p> + +<p>‘How could you?’ There was reproach in her accent.</p> + +<p>‘It did come hard; I’m a little out of practice.’</p> + +<p>‘Did you tell her about—about me?’</p> + +<p>‘I had to, Constance. When it came to the necessity of squaring all of +Gustavo’s yarns, my imagination gave out. Anyway, +<span class="pagebreak" title="183"> </span><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></a> + I had to tell her out +of self-defence; she was so superior. She said it was just like a man to +muddle everything up. Here I’d been ten days in the same town with the +most charming girl in the world, and hadn’t so much as discovered her +name; whereas if <i>she</i> had been managing it—— You see how it was; I had +to let her know that I was quite capable of taking care of myself without +any interference from her. I even—anticipated a trifle.’</p> + +<p>‘How?’</p> + +<p>‘She said she was engaged. I told her I was too.’</p> + +<p>‘Indeed!’ Constance’s tone was remote. ‘To whom?’</p> + +<p>‘The most charming girl in the world.’</p> + +<p>‘May I ask her name?’</p> + +<p>He laid his hand on his heart in a gesture reminiscent of Tony. +‘Costantina.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh! I congratulate you.’</p> + +<p>‘Thank you—I hoped you would.’</p> + +<p>She looked away gravely toward the Maggiore rising from the midst of its +clouds. His gaze followed hers, and for three minutes there was silence. +Then he leaned toward her.</p> + +<p>‘Constance, will you marry me?’</p> + +<p>‘No!’</p> + +<p>A pause of four minutes during which Constance stared steadily at the +mountain. At the end of that time her curiosity overcame her dignity; she +glanced at him sidewise. He was watching her with a smile, +<span class="pagebreak" title="184"> </span><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a> + partly of +amusement, partly of something else.</p> + +<p>‘Dear Constance, haven’t you had enough of play, are you never going to +grow up? You are such a kid!’</p> + +<p>She turned back to the mountain.</p> + +<p>‘I haven’t known you long enough,’ she threw over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>‘Six years!’</p> + +<p>‘One week and two days.’</p> + +<p>‘Through three incarnations.’</p> + +<p>She laughed a delicious rippling laugh of surrender, and slipped her hand +into his.</p> + +<p>‘You don’t deserve it, Jerry, after the fib you told your sister, but I +think—on the whole—I will.’</p> + +<p>Neither noticed that Mr. Wilder had stepped out from the house and was +strolling down the cypress alley in their direction. He rounded the +corner in front of the parapet, and as his eye fell upon them, came to a +startled halt. The young man failed to let go of her hand, and Constance +glanced at her father with an apprehensive blush.</p> + +<p>‘Here’s—Tony, Dad. He’s out of jail.’</p> + +<p>‘I see he is.’</p> + +<p>She slipped down from the wall and brought Jerry with her.</p> + +<p>‘We’d like your parental blessing, please. I’m going to marry him, but +don’t look so worried. He isn’t really a +<span class="pagebreak" title="185"> </span><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></a> + donkey-man, nor a Magyar, nor +an orphan, nor an organ-grinder, nor—any of the things he has said he +was. He is just a plain American man and an <i>awful liar</i>!’</p> + +<p>The young man held out his hand and Mr. Wilder shook it.</p> + +<p>‘Jerry,’ he said, ‘I don’t need to tell you how pleased——’</p> + +<p>‘“Jerry!”’ echoed Constance. ‘Father, you knew?’</p> + +<p>‘Long before you did, my dear.’ There was a suggestion of triumph in Mr. +Wilder’s tone.</p> + +<p>‘Jerry, you told.’ There was reproach, scorn, indignation in hers.</p> + +<p>Jerry spread out his hands in a gesture of repudiation.</p> + +<p>‘What could I do? He asked my name the day we climbed Monte Maggiore; +naturally, I couldn’t tell him a lie.’</p> + +<p>‘Then we haven’t fooled anybody. How unromantic!’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, yes,’ said Jerry, ‘we’ve fooled lots of people. Gustavo doesn’t +understand, and Giuseppe, you noticed, looked rather dazed. Then there’s +Lieutenant Carlo di Ferara——’</p> + +<p>‘Oh!’ said Constance, her face suddenly blank.</p> + +<p>‘You can explain to him now,’ said her father, peering through the trees.</p> + +<p>A commotion had suddenly arisen on the terrace—the rumble of wheels, +the +<span class="pagebreak" title="186"> </span><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"></a> + confused mingling of voices. Constance and Jerry looked too. They +found the yellow omnibus of the Hotel du Lac, its roof laden with +luggage, drawn up at the end of the driveway, and Mrs. Eustace and Nannie +on the point of descending. The centre of the terrace was already +occupied by Lieutenant di Ferara, who, with heels clicked together and +white gloved hands at salute, was in the act of achieving a military bow. +Miss Hazel fluttering from the door, in one breath welcomed the guests, +presented the lieutenant, and ordered Giuseppe to convey the luggage +upstairs. Then she glanced questioningly about the terrace.</p> + +<p>‘I thought Constance and her father were here—Giuseppe!’</p> + +<p>Giuseppe dropped his end of a trunk and approached. Miss Hazel handed him +the lieutenant’s card. ‘The signorina and the signore—in the garden, I +think.’</p> + +<p>Giuseppe advanced upon the garden. Jerry’s face, at the sight, became as +blank as Constance’s. The two cast upon each other a glance of guilty +terror, and from this looked wildly behind for a means of escape. Their +eyes simultaneously lighted on the break in the garden wall. Jerry sprang +up and pulled Constance after him. On the top, she gathered her skirts +together preparatory to jumping, then turned back for a moment toward her +father.</p> + +<p> +<span class="pagebreak" title="187"> </span><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"></a> +‘Dad,’ she called in a stage whisper, ‘you go and meet him like a +gentleman. Tell him you are very sorry, but your daughter is not at home +to-day.’</p> + +<p>The two conspirators scrambled down on the other side; and Mr. Wilder, +with a sigh, dutifully stepped forward to greet the guests.</p> + + + + +<hr /> +<p class="center biggap littler">Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner, Frome and London</p> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Jerry, by Jean Webster + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JERRY *** + +***** This file should be named 20357-h.htm or 20357-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/3/5/20357/ + +Produced by David Clarke, Louise Pryor and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Jerry + +Author: Jean Webster + +Release Date: January 14, 2007 [EBook #20357] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JERRY *** + + + + +Produced by David Clarke, Louise Pryor and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + + + JERRY + + + + + _BY THE SAME AUTHOR._ + UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME + Daddy-Long-Legs. + Just Patty. + Patty and Priscilla. + The Four Pools Mystery. + The Wheat Princess. + Dear Enemy. + Much Ado about Peter. + LONDON: HODDER & STOUGHTON. + + + + + JERRY + + By + JEAN WEBSTER + Author of "Dear Enemy," etc + + + HODDER AND STOUGHTON + LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO + + + + + Copyright, 1907, by + THE CENTURY CO. + + * * * * * + + Copyright, 1906, 1907, by + THE CROWELL PUBLISHING COMPANY. + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +The courtyard of the Hotel du Lac, furnished with half a dozen tables and +chairs, a red and green parrot chained to a perch, and a shady little +arbour covered with vines, is a pleasant enough place for morning coffee, +but decidedly too sunny for afternoon tea. It was close upon four of a +July day, when Gustavo, his inseparable napkin floating from his arm, +emerged from the cool dark doorway of the house and scanned the burning +vista of tables and chairs. He would never, under ordinary circumstances, +have interrupted his siesta for the mere delivery of a letter; but this +particular letter was addressed to the young American man, and young +American men, as every head waiter knows, are an unreasonably impatient +lot. The courtyard was empty, as he might have foreseen, and he was +turning with a patient sigh towards the long arbour that led to the lake, +when the sound of a rustling paper in the summer-house deflected his +course. He approached the doorway and looked inside. + +The young American man, in white flannels with a red guide-book +protruding from his pocket, was comfortably stretched in a lounging +chair engaged with a cigarette and a copy of the Paris _Herald_. He +glanced up with a yawn--excusable under the circumstances--but as his eye +fell upon the letter he sprang to his feet. + +'Hello, Gustavo! Is that for me?' + +Gustavo bowed. + +'_Ecco_! She is at last arrive, ze lettair for which you haf so moch +weesh.' He bowed a second time and presented it. 'Meestair Jayreen +Ailyar!' + +The young man laughed. + +'I don't wish to hurt your feelings, Gustavo, but I'm not sure I should +answer if my eyes were shut.' + +He picked up the letter, glanced at the address to make sure--the name +was Jerymn Hilliard, Jr.--and ripped it open with an exaggerated sigh of +relief. Then he glanced up and caught Gustavo's expression. Gustavo came +of a romantic race; there was a gleam of sympathetic interest in his eye. + +'Oh, you needn't look so knowing! I suppose you think this is a +love-letter? Well it's not. It is, since you appear to be interested, a +letter from my sister informing me that they will arrive to-night, and +that we will pull out for Riva by the first boat to-morrow morning. Not +that I want to leave you, Gustavo, but--Oh thunder!' + +He finished the reading in a frowning silence while the waiter stood at +polite attention, a shade of anxiety in his eye--there was usually +anxiety in his eye when it rested on Jerymn Hilliard, Jr. One could never +foresee what the young man would call for next. Yesterday he had rung the +bell and demanded a partner to play lawn tennis, as if the hotel kept +partners laid away in drawers like so many sheets. + +He crumpled up the letter and stuffed it in his pocket. + +'I say, Gustavo, what do you think of this? They're going to stay in +Lucerne till the tenth--that's next week--and they hope I won't mind +waiting; it will be nice for me to have a rest. A _rest_, man, and I've +already spent three days in Valedolmo!' + +'_Si_, signore, you will desire ze same room?' was as much as Gustavo +thought. + +'Ze same room? Oh, I suppose so.' + +He sank back into his chair and plunged his hands into his pockets with +an air of sombre resignation. The waiter hovered over him, divided +between a desire to return to his siesta, and a sympathetic interest in +the young man's troubles. Never before in the history of his connexion +with the Hotel du Lac had Gustavo experienced such a munificent, +companionable, expansive, entertaining, thoroughly unique and +inexplicable guest. Even the fact that he was American scarcely accounted +for everything. + +The young man raised his head and eyed his companion gloomily. + +'Gustavo, have you a sister?' + +'A sister?' Gustavo's manner was uncomprehending but patient. '_Si_, +signore, I have eight sister.' + +'Eight! Merciful saints. How do you manage to be so cheerful?' + +'Tree is married, signore, one uvver is betrofed, one is in a convent, +one is dead, and two is babies.' + +'I see--they're pretty well disposed of; but the babies will grow up, +Gustavo, and as for that betrothed one, I should still be a little +nervous if I were you; you can never be sure they are going to stay +betrothed. I hope she doesn't spend her time chasing over the map of +Europe making appointments with you to meet her in unheard of little +mountain villages where the only approach to Christian reading matter is +a Paris _Herald_ four days old, and then doesn't turn up to keep her +appointments?' + +Gustavo blinked. His supple back achieved another bow. + +'Sank you,' he murmured. + +'And you don't happen to have an aunt?' + +'An aunt, signore?' There was vagueness in his tone. + +'Yes, Gustavo, an aunt. A female relative who reads you like an open +book, who sees your faults and skips your virtues, who remembers how +dear and good and obliging your father was at your age, who hoped great +things of you when you were a baby, who had intended to make you her heir +but has about decided to endow an orphan asylum--have you, Gustavo, by +chance an aunt?' + +'_Si_, signore.' + +'I do not think you grasp my question. An _aunt_--the sister of your +father, or perhaps your mother.' + +A gleam of illumination swept over Gustavo's troubled features. + +'_Ecco_! You would know if I haf a _zia_--a aunt--yes, zat is it. A aunt. +_Sicuramente_, signore, I haf ten--leven aunt.' + +'Eleven aunts! Before such a tragedy I am speechless; you need say no +more, Gustavo, from this moment we are friends.' + +He held out his hand. Gustavo regarded it dazedly; then, since it seemed +to be expected, he gingerly presented his own. The result was a shining +newly-minted two-lire piece. He pocketed it with a fresh succession of +bows. + +'_Grazie tanto_! Has ze signore need of anysing?' + +'Have I need of anysing?' There was reproach, indignation, disgust in the +young man's tone. 'How can you ask such a question, Gustavo? Here am I, +three days in Valedolmo, with seven more stretching before me. I have +plenty of towels and soap and soft-boiled eggs, if that is what you +mean; but a man's spirit cannot be nourished on soap and soft-boiled +eggs. What I need is food for the mind--diversion, distraction, +amusement--no, Gustavo, you needn't offer me the Paris _Herald_ again. I +already know by heart the list of guests in every hotel in Switzerland.' + +'Ah, it is diversion zat you wish? Have you seen zat ver' beautiful Luini +in ze chapel of San Bartolomeo? It is four hundred years old.' + +'Yes, Gustavo, I have seen the Luini in the chapel of San Bartolomeo. I +derived all the pleasure to be got out of it the first afternoon I came.' + +'Ze garden of Prince Sartonio-Crevelli? Has ze signore seen ze cedar of +Lebanon in ze garden of ze prince?' + +'Yes, Gustavo, the signore has seen the cedar of Lebanon in the garden of +the prince, also the ilex tree two hundred years old and the india-rubber +plant from South America. They are extremely beautiful, but they don't +last a week.' + +'Have you swimmed in ze lake?' + +'It is lukewarm, Gustavo.' + +The waiter's eyes roved anxiously. They lighted on the lunette of +shimmering water and purple mountains visible at the farther end of the +arbour. + +'Zere is ze view,' he suggested humbly. 'Ze view from ze water front is +consider ver' beautiful, ver' nice. Many foreigners come entirely for +him. You can see Lago di Garda, Monte Brione, Monte Baldo wif ze ruin +castle of ze Scaliger, Monte Maggiore, ze Altissimo di Nago, ze snow +cover peak of Monte----' + +Mr. Jerymn Hilliard, Jr., stopped him with a gesture. + +'That will do; I read Baedeker myself, and I saw them all the first night +I came. You must know at your age, Gustavo, that a man can't enjoy a view +by himself; it takes two for that sort of thing.--Yes, the truth is that +I am lonely. You can see yourself to what straits I am pushed for +conversation. If I had your command of language, now, I would talk to the +German Alpine climbers.' + +An idea flashed over Gustavo's features. + +'Ah, zat is it! Why does not ze signore climb mountains? Ver' helful; +ver' diverting. I find guide.' + +'You needn't bother. Your guide would be Italian, and it's too much of a +strain to talk to a man all day in dumb show.' He folded his arms with a +weary sigh. 'A week of Valedolmo! An eternity!' + +Gustavo echoed the sigh. Though he did not entirely comprehend the +trouble, still he was of a generously sympathetic nature. + +'It is a pity,' he observed casually, 'zat you are not acquaint wif ze +Signor Americano who lives in Villa Rosa. He also finds Valedolmo +undiverting. He comes--but often--to talk wif me. He has fear of +forgetting how to spik Angleesh, he says.' + +The young man opened his eyes. + +'What are you talking about--a Signor Americano here in Valedolmo?' + +'_Sicuramente_, in zat rose-colour villa wif ze cypress trees and ze +_terrazzo_ on ze lake. His daughter, la Signorina Costantina, she live +wif him--ver' young, ver' beautiful'--Gustavo rolled his eyes and clasped +his hands--'beautiful like ze angels in Paradise--and she spik Italia +like I spik Angleesh.' + +Jerymn Hilliard, Jr., unfolded his arms and sat up alertly. + +'You mean to tell me that you had an American family up your sleeve all +this time and never said a word about it?' His tone was stern. + +'_Scusi_, signore, I have not known zat you have ze plaisir of zer +acquaintance.' + +'The pleasure of their acquaintance! Good heavens, Gustavo, when one +shipwrecked man meets another shipwrecked man on a desert island must +they be introduced before they can speak?' + +'_Si_, signore.' + +'And why, may I ask, should an intelligent American family be living in +Valedolmo?' + +'I do not know, signore. I have heard ze Signor Papa's healf was no good, +and ze doctors in Americk' zay say to heem, "You need change, to breave +ze beautiful climate of Italia." And he say, "All right, I go to +Valedolmo." It is small, signore, but ver' _famosa_. Oh, yes, _molto +famosa_. In ze autumn and ze spring foreigners come from all ze +world--Angleesh, French, German--_tutti_! Ze Hotel du Lac is full. Every +day we turn peoples away.' + +'So! I seem to have struck the wrong season.--But about this American +family, what's their name?' + +'La familia Veeldair from Nuovo York.' + +'Veeldair.' He shook his head. 'That's not American, Gustavo, at least +when you say it. But never mind, if they come from New York it's all +right. How many are there--just two?' + +'But no! Ze papa and ze signorina and ze--ze--' he rolled his eyes in +search of the word--'ze aunt!' + +'Another aunt! The sky appears to be raining aunts to-day. What does she +do for amusement--the signorina who is beautiful as the angels?' + +Gustavo spread out his hands. + +'Valedolmo, signore, is on ze frontier. It is--what you say--garrison +_citta_. Many soldiers, many officers--captains, lieutenants, wif +uniforms and swords. Zay take tea on ze _terrazzo_ wif ze Signor Papa and +ze Signora Aunt, and most _specialmente_ wif ze Signorina Costantina. Ze +Signor Papa say he come for his healf, but if you ask me, I sink maybe he +come to marry his daughter.' + +'I see! And yet, Gustavo, American papas are generally not so keen as you +might suppose about marrying their daughters to foreign captains and +lieutenants even if they have got uniforms and swords. I shouldn't be +surprised if the Signor Papa were just a little nervous over the +situation. It seems to me there might be an opening for a likely young +fellow speaking the English language, even if he hasn't a uniform and +sword. How does he strike you?' + +'_Si_, signore.' + +'I'm glad you agree with me. It is now five minutes past four; do you +think the American family would be taking a siesta?' + +'I do not know, signore.' Gustavo's tone was still patient. + +'And whereabouts is the rose-coloured villa with the terrace on the +lake?' + +'It is a quarter of a hour beyond ze Porta Sant' Antonio. If ze gate is +shut you ring at ze bell and Giuseppe will open. But ze road is ver' hot +and ver' dusty. It is more cooler to take ze paf by ze lake. Straight to +ze left for ten minutes and step over ze wall; it is broken in zat place +and quite easy.' + +'Thank you, that is a wise suggestion; I shall step over the wall by all +means.' He jumped to his feet and looked about for his hat. 'You turn to +the left and straight ahead for ten minutes? Good-bye then till dinner. +I go in search of the Signorina Costantina who is beautiful as the angels +in Paradise, and who lives in a rose-coloured villa set in a cypress +grove on the shores of Lake Garda--not a bad setting for romance, is it, +Gustavo?--Dinner, I believe, is at seven o'clock?' + +'_Si_, signore, at seven; and would you like veal cooked Milanese +fashion?' + +'Nothing would please me more. We have only had veal Milanese fashion +five times since I came.' + +He waved his hand jauntily and strolled whistling down the arbour that +led to the lake. Gustavo looked after him and shook his head. Then he +took out the two-lire piece and rang it on the table. The metal rang +true. He shrugged his shoulders and turned back indoors to order the +veal. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The terrace of Villa Rosa juts out into the lake, bordered on three sides +by a stone parapet, and shaded above by a yellow-ochre awning. Masses of +oleanders hang over the wall and drop pink petals into the blue waters +below. As a study in colour the terrace is perfect, but, like the +courtyard of the Hotel du Lac, decidedly too hot for mid-afternoon. To +the right of the terrace, however, is a shady garden set in alleys of +cypress trees, and separated from the lake by a strip of beach and a low +balustrade. There could be no better resting-place for a warm afternoon. + +It was close upon four--five minutes past to be accurate--and the usual +afternoon quiet that enveloped the garden had fled before the garrulous +advent of four girls. Three of them, with black eyes and blacker hair, +were kneeling on the beach thumping and scrubbing a pile of linen. In +spite of their chatter they were working busily, and the grass beyond the +water-wall was already white with bleaching sheets, while a lace-trimmed +petticoat fluttered from a near-by oleander, and rows of silk stockings +stretched the length of the parapet. The most undeductive observer would +have guessed by this time that the pink villa, visible through the trees, +contained no such modern conveniences as stationary tubs. + +The fourth girl, with grey eyes and yellow-brown hair, was sitting at +ease on the balustrade, fanning herself with a wide-brimmed hat and +dangling her feet, clad in white tennis shoes, over the edge. She wore a +suit of white linen cut sailor fashion, low at the throat and with +sleeves rolled to the elbows. She looked very cool and comfortable and +free as she talked, with the utmost friendliness, to the three girls +below. Her Italian, to an unaccustomed ear, was exactly as glib as +theirs. + +The washer-girls were dressed in the gayest of peasant clothes--green and +scarlet petticoats, flowered kerchiefs, coral beads and flashing +earrings; you would have to go far into the hills in these degenerate +days before meeting their match on an Italian highway. But the girl on +the wall, who was actual if not titular ruler of the domain of Villa +Rosa, possessed a keen eye for effect; and--she plausibly argued--since +one must have washer-women about, why not, in the name of all that is +beautiful, have them in harmony with tradition and the landscape? +Accordingly, she designed and purchased their costumes herself. + +There drifted presently into sight from around the little promontory that +hid the village a blue and white boat with yellow lateen sails. She was +propelled gondolier fashion, for the wind was a mere breath, by a +picturesque youth in a suit of dark blue with white sash and flaring +collar--the hand of the girl on the wall was here visible also. + +The boat fluttering in toward shore, looked like a giant butterfly; and +her name, emblazoned in gold on her prow, was, appropriately, the +_Farfalla_. Earlier in the season, with a green hull and a dingy brown +sail, she had been, prosaically enough, the _Maria_. But since the advent +of the girl all this had been changed. The _Farfalla_ dropped her yellow +wings with the air of a salute, and lighted at the foot of the +water-steps under the terrace. The girl on the parapet leaned forward +eagerly. + +'Did you get any mail, Giuseppe?' she called. + +'_Si_, signorina.' He scrambled up the steps and presented a copy of the +London _Times_. + +She received it with a shrug. Clearly, she felt little interest in the +London _Times_. Giuseppe took himself back to his boat and commenced +fussing about its fittings, dusting the seats, plumping up the cushions, +with an air of absorption which deceived nobody. The signorina watched +him a moment with amused comprehension, then she called peremptorily-- + +'Giuseppe, you know you must spade the garden border.' + +Poor Giuseppe, in spite of his nautical costume, was man of all work. He +glanced dismally toward the garden border which lay basking in the +sunshine under the wall that divided Villa Rosa from the rest of the +world. It contained every known flower which blossoms in July in the +kingdom of Italy, from camellias and hydrangeas to heliotrope and +wall-flowers. Its spading was a complicated business and it lay too far +off to permit of conversation. Giuseppe was not only a lazy, but also a +social soul. + +'Signorina,' he suggested, 'would you not like a sail?' + +She shook her head. 'There is not wind enough and it is too hot and too +sunny.' + +'But yes, there's a wind, and cool--when you get out on the lake. I will +put up the awning, signorina, the sun shall not touch you.' + +She continued to shake her head and her eyes wandered suggestively to the +hydrangeas, but Giuseppe still made a feint of preoccupation. Not being a +cruel mistress, she dropped the subject, and turned back to her +conversation with the washer-girls. They were discussing--a pleasant +topic for a sultry summer afternoon--the probable content of Paradise. +The three girls were of the opinion that it was made up of warm sunshine +and cool shade, of flowers and singing birds and sparkling waters, of +blue skies and cloud-capped mountains--not unlike, it will be observed, +the very scene which at the moment stretched before them. In so much they +were all agreed, but there were several debatable points. Whether the +stones were made of gold, and whether the houses were not gold too, and, +that being the case, whether it would not hurt your eyes to look at them. +Marietta declared, blasphemously, as the others thought, that she +preferred a simple grey stone villa or at most one of pink stucco, to all +the golden edifices that Paradise contained. + +It was by now fifteen minutes past four, and a spectator had arrived, +though none of the five were aware of his presence. The spectator was +standing on the wall above the garden border examining with appreciation +the idyllic scene below him, and with most particular appreciation, the +dainty white-clad person of the girl on the balustrade. He was +wondering--anxiously--how he might make his presence known. For no very +tangible reason he had suddenly become conscious that the matter would be +easier if he carried in his pocket a letter of introduction. The purlieus +of Villa Rosa in no wise resembled a desert island; and in the face of +that very fluent Italian, the suspicion was forcing itself upon him that, +after all, the mere fact of a common country was not a sufficient bond of +union. He had definitely decided to withdraw, when the matter was taken +from his hands. + +The wall--as Gustavo had pointed out--was broken; it was owing to this +fact that he had been so easily able to climb it. Now, as he stealthily +turned, preparing to re-descend in the direction whence he had come, the +loose stone beneath his foot slipped and he slipped with it. Five +startled pairs of eyes were turned in his direction. What they saw, was a +young man in flannels suddenly throw up his arms, slide into an azalea +bush, from this to the balustrade, and finally land on all fours on the +narrow strip of beach, a shower of pink petals and crumbling masonry +falling about him. A momentary silence followed; then the washer-girls, +making sure that he was not injured, broke into a shrill chorus of +laughter, while the _Farfalla_ rocked under impact of Giuseppe's mirth. +The girl on the wall alone remained grave. + +The young man picked himself up, restored his guide-book to his pocket, +and blushingly stepped forward, hat in hand, to make an apology. One knee +bore a splash of mud, and his tumbled hair was sprinkled with azalea +blossoms. + +'I beg your pardon,' he stammered, 'I didn't mean to come so suddenly; +I'm afraid I broke your wall.' + +The girl dismissed the matter with a polite gesture. + +'It was already broken,' and then she waited with an air of grave +attention until he should state his errand. + +'I--I came----' He paused and glanced about vaguely; he could not at the +moment think of any adequate reason to account for his coming. + +'Yes?' Her eyes studied him with what appeared at once a cool and an +amused scrutiny. He felt himself growing red beneath it. + +'Can I do anything for you?' she prompted with the kind of desire of +putting him at his ease. + +'Thank you----' He grasped at the first idea that presented itself. 'I'm +stopping at the Hotel du Lac, and Gustavo, you know, told me there was a +villa somewhere around here that belongs to Prince Someone or Other. If +you ring at the gate and give the gardener two francs and a visiting +card, he will let you walk around and look at the trees.' + +'I see!' said the girl, 'and so now you are looking for the gate?' Her +tone suggested that she suspected him of trying to avoid both it and the +two francs. 'Prince Sartorio-Crevelli's villa is about half a mile +farther on.' + +'Ah, thank you,' he bowed a second time, and then added out of the +desperate need of saying something, 'There's a cedar of Lebanon in it and +an india-rubber plant from South America.' + +'Indeed!' + +She continued to observe him with polite interest, though she made no +move to carry on the conversation. + +'You--are an American?' he asked at length. + +'Oh, yes,' she agreed easily. 'Gustavo knows that.' + +He shifted his weight. + +'I am an American too,' he observed. + +'Really?' The girl leaned forward and examined him more closely, an +innocent, candid, wholly detached look in her eyes. 'From your appearance +I should have said you were German--most of the foreigners who visit +Valedolmo are German.' + +'Well, I'm not,' he said shortly. 'I'm American.' + +'It is a pity my father is not at home,' she returned, '_he_ enjoys +meeting Americans.' + +A gleam of anger replaced the embarrassment in the young man's eyes. He +glanced about for a dignified means of escape; they had him pretty well +penned in. Unless he wished to reclimb the wall--and he did not--he must +go by the terrace, which retreat was cut off by the washer-women, or by +the parapet, already occupied by the girl in white and the washing. He +turned abruptly and his elbow brushed a stocking to the ground. + +He stooped to pick it up and then he blushed still a shade deeper. + +'This is washing day,' observed the girl with a note of apology. She rose +to her feet and stood on the top of the parapet while she beckoned to +Giuseppe, then she turned and looked down upon the young man with an +expression of frank amusement. 'I hope you will enjoy the cedar of +Lebanon and the india-rubber tree. Good afternoon.' + +She jumped to the ground and crossed to the water-steps, where Giuseppe, +with a radiant smile, was steadying the boat against the landing. She +settled herself comfortably among the cushions and then for a moment +glanced back towards shore. + +'You would better go out by the gate,' she called. 'The wall on the +farther side is harder to climb than the one you came in by; and +besides, it has broken glass on the top.' + +Giuseppe raised the yellow sail and the _Farfalla_, with a graceful dip, +glided out to sea. The young man stood eyeing its progress revengefully. +Now that the girl was out of hearing, a number of pointed things occurred +to him which he might have said. His thoughts were interrupted by a fresh +giggle from behind, and he found that the three washer-girls were +laughing at him. + +'Your mistress's manners are not the best in the world,' said he +severely, 'and I am obliged to add that yours are no better.' + +They giggled again, though there was no malice behind their humour; it +was merely that they found the lack of a language in common a +mirth-provoking circumstance. Marietta, with a flash of black eyes, +murmured something very kindly in Italian, as she shook out a linen +sailor suit--the exact twin of the one that had gone to sea--and spread +it on the wall to dry. + +The young man did not linger for further words. Setting his hat firmly on +his head, he vaulted the parapet and strode off down the cypress alley +that stretched before him; he passed the pink villa without a glance. At +the gate he stood aside to admit a horse and rider. The horse was +prancing in spite of the heat; the rider wore a uniform and a shining +sword. There was a clank of accoutrements as he passed, and the wayfarer +caught a gleam of piercing black eyes and a slight black moustache turned +up at the ends. The rider saluted politely and indifferently, and jangled +on. The young man scowled after him maliciously until the cypresses hid +him from view; then he turned and took up the dusty road back towards the +Hotel du Lac. + +It was close upon five, and Gustavo was in the courtyard feeding the +parrot, when his eye fell upon the American guest scuffling down the road +in a cloud of white dust. Gustavo hastened to the gate to welcome him +back, his very eyebrows expressive of his eagerness for news. + +'You are returned, signore?' + +The young man paused and regarded him unemotionally. + +'Yes, Gustavo, I am returned--with thanks.' + +'You have seen ze Signorina Costantina?' + +'Yes, I saw her.' + +'And is it not as I have said, zat she is beautiful as ze holy angels?' + +'Yes, Gustavo, she is--and just about equally remote. You may make out my +bill.' + +The waiter's face clouded. + +'You do not wish to remain longer, signore?' + +'Can't stand it, Gustavo; it's too infernally restful.' + +Poor Gustavo saw a munificent shower of tips vanishing into nothing. His +face was rueful, but his manner was undiminishingly polite. + +'_Si_, signore, sank you. When shall you wish ze omnibus?' + +'To-morrow morning for the first boat.' + +Gustavo bowed to the inevitable; and the young man passed on. He paused +half-way across the courtyard. + +'What time does the first boat leave?' + +'At half-past five, signore.' + +'Er--no--I'll take the second.' + +'_Si_, signore. At half-past ten.' + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +It was close upon ten when Jerymn Hilliard, Jr., equipped for travel in +proper blue serge, appeared in the doorway of the Hotel du Lac. He looked +at his watch and discovered that he still had twenty minutes before the +omnibus meeting the second boat was due. He strolled across the +courtyard, paused for a moment to tease the parrot, and sauntered on to +his favourite seat in the summer-house. He had barely established himself +with a cigarette when who should appear in the gateway but Miss Constance +Wilder, of Villa Rosa, and a middle-aged man--at a glance the Signor +Papa. Jerymn Hilliard's heart doubled its beat. Why, he asked himself +excitedly, _why_ had they come? + +The Signor Papa closed his green umbrella, and having dropped into a +chair--obligingly near the summer-house--took off his hat and fanned +himself. He had a tendency toward being stout, and felt the heat. The +girl, meanwhile, crossed the court and jangled the bell; she waited +two--three--minutes, then she pulled the rope again. + +'Gustavo! Oh, Gustavo!' + +The bell might have been rung by any one--the fisherman, the +omnibus-driver, Suor Celestina from the convent asking her everlasting +alms--and Gustavo took his time. But the voice was unmistakable; he +waited only to throw a clean napkin over his arm before hurrying to +answer. + +'_Buon giorno_, signorina! Good morning, signore. It is beautiful +wea-thir, but warm. _Gia_, it is warm.' + +He bowed and smiled and rubbed his hands together. His moustaches, fairly +bristling with good will, turned up in a half-circle until they caressed +his nose on either side. He bustled about placing table and chairs, and +recklessly dusting them with the clean napkin. The signorina laid her +fluffy white parasol on one chair and seated herself on another, her +profile turned to the summer-house. Gustavo hovered over them, awaiting +their pleasure, the genius itself of respectful devotion. It was +Constance who gave the order--she, it might be noticed, gave most of the +orders that were given in her vicinity. She framed it in English out of +deference to Gustavo's pride in his knowledge of the language. + +'A glass of _vino santo_ for the signore and _limonata_ for me. I wish to +put the sugar in myself, the last time you mixed it, Gustavo, it was all +sugar and no lemon. And bring a bowl of cracked ice--_fino_--_fino_--and +some pine nut cakes if you are sure they are fresh.' + +'Sank you, signorina. _Subitissimo_!' + +He was off across the court, his black coat-tails, his white napkin +streaming behind, proclaiming to all the world that he was engaged on the +Signorina Americana's bidding; for persons of lesser note he still +preserved a measure of dignity. + +The young man in the summer-house had meanwhile dropped his cigarette +upon the floor and noiselessly stepped on it. He had also--with the +utmost caution lest the chair creak--shifted his position so that he +might command the profile of the girl. The entrance to the summer house +was fortunately on the other side, and in all likelihood they would not +have occasion to look within. It was eavesdropping of course, but he had +already been convicted of that yesterday, and in any case it was not such +very bad eavesdropping. The courtyard of the Hotel du Lac was public +property; he had been there first, he was there by rights as a guest of +the house; if anything, they were the interlopers. Besides, nobody talked +secrets with a head waiter. His own long conversations with Gustavo were +as open and innocent as the day; the signorina was perfectly welcome to +listen to them as much as she chose. + +She was sitting with her chin in her hand, eyeing the flying coat-tails +of Gustavo, a touch of amusement in her face. Her father was eyeing her +severely. + +'Constance, it is disgraceful!' + +She laughed. Apparently she already knew or divined what it was that was +disgraceful, but the accusation did not appear to bother her much. Mr. +Wilder proceeded grumblingly. + +'It's bad enough with those five deluded officers, but they walked into +the trap with their eyes open and it's their own affair. But look at +Gustavo; he can scarcely carry a dish without breaking it when you are +watching him. And Giuseppe--that confounded _Farfalla_ with its yellow +sails floats back and forth in front of the terrace till I am on the +point of having it scuttled as a public nuisance; and those three +washer-women and the post-office clerk and the boy who brings milk, and +Luigi and--every man, woman and child in the village of Valedolmo!' + +'And my own dad as well?' + +Mr. Wilder shook his head. + +'I came here at your instigation for rest and relaxation--to get rid of +nervous worries, and here I find a big new worry waiting for me that I'd +never thought of having before. What if my only daughter should take it +in her head to marry one of these infernally good-looking Italian +officers?' + +Constance reached over and patted his arm. + +'Don't let it bother you, Dad; I assure you I won't do anything of the +sort. I should think it my duty to learn the subjunctive mood, and that +is impossible.' + +Gustavo came hurrying back with a tray. He arranged the glasses, the ice, +the sugar, the cakes, with hovering, elaborate obsequiousness. The +signorina examined the ice doubtfully, then with approval. + +'It's exactly right to-day, Gustavo! You got it too large the last time, +you remember.' + +She stirred in some sugar and tasted it tentatively, her head on one +side. Gustavo hung upon her expression in an agony of apprehension; one +would have thought it a matter for public mourning if the lemonade were +not mixed exactly right. But apparently it was right--she nodded and +smiled--and Gustavo's expression assumed relief. Constance broke open a +pine nut cake and settled herself for conversation. + +'Haven't you any guests, Gustavo?' Her eyes glanced over the empty +courtyard. 'I am afraid the hotel is not having a very prosperous +season.' + +'_Grazie_, signorina. Zer never are many in summer; it is ze dead time, +but still zay come and zay go. Seven arrive last night.' + +'Seven! That's nice. What are they like?' + +'German mountain-climbers wif nails in zer shoes. Zey have gone to Riva +on ze first boat.' + +'That's too bad--then the hotel is empty?' + +'But no! Zer is an Italian signora wif two babies and a governess, and +two English ladies and an American gentleman----' + +'An American gentleman?' Her tone was languidly interested. 'How long has +he been here?' + +'Tree--four days.' + +'Indeed--what is he like?' + +'Nice--ver' nice.' (Gustavo might well say that; his pockets were lined +with the American gentleman's silver lire.) 'He talk to me always. +"Gustavo," he say, "I am all alone; I wish to be 'mused. Come and talk +Angleesh." Yes, it is true; I have no time to finish my work; I spend +whole day talking wif dis yong American gentleman. He is just a +little----' He touched his head significantly. + +'Really?' She raised her eyes with an air of awakened interest. 'And how +did he happen to come to Valedolmo?' + +'He come to meet his family, his sister and his--his aunt, who are going +wif him to ze Tyrollo. But zay have not arrive. Zey are in Lucerne, he +says, where zer is a lion dying, and zey wish to wait until he is dead; +zen zey come.--Yes, it is true; he tell me zat.' Gustavo tapped his head +a second time. + +The signorina glanced about apprehensively. + +'Is he safe, Gustavo--to be about?' + +'_Si_, signorina, _sicuramente_! He is just a little simple.' + +Mr. Wilder chuckled. + +'Where is he, Gustavo? I think I'd like to make that young man's +acquaintance.' + +'I sink, signore, he is packing his trunk. He go away to-day.' + +'To-day, Gustavo?' There was audible regret in Constance's tone. 'Why is +he going?' + +'It is not possible for him to stand it, signorina. Valedolmo too dam +slow.' + +'Gustavo! You mustn't say that; it is very, very bad. Nice men don't say +it.' + +Gustavo held his ground. + +'_Si_, signorina, zat yong American gentleman say it--dam slow, no +_divertimento_.' + +'He's just about right, Gustavo,' Mr. Wilder broke in. 'The next time a +young American gentleman blunders into the Hotel du Lac you send him +around to me.' + +'_Si_, signore.' + +Gustavo rolled his eyes toward the signorina; she continued to sip her +lemonade. + +'I have told him yesterday an American family live at Villa Rosa; he say, +"All right, I go call," but--but I sink maybe you were not at home.' + +'Oh!' The signorina raised her head in apparent enlightenment. 'So that +was the young man? Yes, to be sure, he came, but he said he was looking +for Prince Sartorio's villa. I am sorry you were away, father, you would +have enjoyed him; his English was excellent.--Did he tell you he saw me, +Gustavo?' + +'_Si_, signorina, he tell me.' + +'What did he say? Did he think I was nice?' + +Gustavo looked embarrassed. + +'I--I no remember, signorina.' + +She laughed and to his relief changed the subject. + +'Those English ladies who are staying here--what do they look like? Are +they young?' + +Gustavo delivered himself of an inimitable gesture which suggested that +the English ladies had entered the bounds of that indefinite period when +the subject of age must be politely waived. + +'They are tall, signorina, and of a thinness--you would not believe it +possible.' + +'I see! And so the poor young man was bored?' + +Gustavo bowed vaguely. He saw no connexion. + +'He was awfully good-looking,' she added with a sigh. 'I'm afraid I made +a mistake. It would be rather fun, don't you think, Dad, to have an +entertaining young American gentleman about?' + +'Ump!' he grunted. 'I thought you were so immensely satisfied with the +officers.' + +'Oh, I am,' she agreed with a shrug which dismissed for ever the young +American gentleman. + +'Well, Gustavo,' she added in a business-like tone, 'I will tell you why +we called. The doctor says the Signor Papa is getting too fat. I don't +think he's too fat, do you? He seems to me just comfortably chubby; but +anyway, the doctor says he needs exercise, so we're going to begin +climbing mountains with nails in our shoes like the Germans. And we're +going to begin to-morrow because we've got two English people at the +villa who adore mountains. Do you think you can find us a guide and some +donkeys? We want a nice, gentle, lady-like donkey for my aunt, and +another for the English lady, and a third to carry the things--and maybe +me, if I get tired. Then we want a man who will twist their tails and +make them go; and I am very particular about the man. I want him to be +picturesque--there's no use being in Italy if you can't have things +picturesque, is there, Gustavo?' + +'_Si_, signorina,' he bowed and resumed his attitude of strained +attention. + +'He must have curly hair and black eyes and white teeth and a nice smile; +I should like him to wear a red sash and earrings. He must be obliging +and cheerful and deferential and speak good Italian--I won't have a man +who speaks only dialect. He must play the mandolin and sing Santa +Lucia--I believe that's all.' + +'And I suppose since he is to act as guide he must know the region?' her +father mildly suggested. + +'Oh, no, that's immaterial; we can always ask our way.' + +Mr. Wilder grunted, but offered no further suggestion. + +'We pay four lire a day and furnish his meals,' she added munificently. +'And we shall begin with the castle on Monte Baldo; then when we get very +proficient we'll climb Monte Maggiore. Do you understand?' + +'Ze signorina desires tree donkeys and a driver at seven o'clock +to-morrow morning to climb Monte Baldo?' + +'In brief, yes, but _please_ remember the earrings.' + +Meanwhile a commotion was going on behind them. The hotel omnibus had +rumbled into the courtyard. A _fachino_ had dragged out a leather trunk, +an English hat-box and a couple of valises and dumped them on the ground +while he ran back for the paste pot and a pile of labels. The two +under-waiters, the chambermaid and the boy who cleaned boots had drifted +into the court. It was evident that the American gentleman's departure +was imminent. + +The luggage was labelled and hoisted to the roof of the omnibus; they all +drew up in a line with their eyes on the door; but still the young man +did not come. Gustavo, over his shoulder, dispatched a waiter to hunt him +up. The waiter returned breathless. The gentleman was nowhere. He had +searched the entire house; there was not a trace. Gustavo sent the +boot-boy flying down the arbour to search the garden; he was beginning to +feel anxious. What if the gentleman in a sudden fit of melancholia had +thrown himself into the lake? That would indeed be an unfortunate affair! + +Constance reassured him, and at the same time she arose. It occurred to +her suddenly that, since the young man was going, there was nothing to be +gained by waiting, and he might think---- She picked up her parasol and +started for the gate, but Mr. Wilder hung back; he wanted to see the +matter out. + +'Father,' said she reproachfully, 'it's embarrassing enough for him to +fee all those people without our staying and watching him do it.' + +'I suppose it is,' he acknowledged regretfully, as he resumed his hat and +umbrella and palm-leaf fan. + +She paused for a second in the gateway. + +'_Addio_, Gustavo,' she called over her shoulder. '_Don't_ forget the +earrings.' + +Gustavo bowed twice and turned back with a dazed air to direct the +business in hand. The boot-boy, reappearing, shook his head. No, the +gentleman was not to be found in the garden. The omnibus driver leaned +from his seat and swore. + +_Corpo di Bacco_! Did he think the boat would wait all day for the sake +of one passenger? As it was, they were ten minutes late and would have to +gallop every step of the way. + +The turmoil of ejaculation and gesture was approaching a climax; when +suddenly, who should come sauntering into the midst of it but the young +American man himself! He paused to light a cigarette, then waved his hand +aloft toward his leather belongings. + +'Take 'em down, Gustavo. Changed my mind; not going to-day--it's too +hot.' + +Gustavo gasped. + +'But, signore, you have paid for your ticket.' + +'True, Gustavo, but there is no law compelling me to use it. To tell the +truth I find that I am fonder of Valedolmo than I had supposed. There is +something satisfying about the peace and tranquillity of the place--one +doesn't realize it till the moment of parting comes. Do you think I can +obtain a room for a--well, an indefinite period?' + +Gustavo saw a dazzling vista of silver lire stretching into the future. +With an all-inclusive gesture he placed the house, the lake, the +surrounding mountains, at the disposal of the American. + +'You shall have what you wish, signore. At dis season ze Hotel du +Lac----' + +'Is not crowded, and there are half a hundred rooms at my disposal? Very +well, I will keep the one I have, which commands a very attractive view +of a rose-coloured villa set in a grove of cypress trees.' + +The others had waited in a state of suspension, dumbfounded at what was +going on. But as soon as the young man dipped into his pocket and fished +out a handful of silver, they broke into smiles; this at least was +intelligible. The silver was distributed, the luggage was hoisted down, +the omnibus was dismissed. The courtyard resumed its former quiet; just +the American gentleman, Gustavo and the parrot were left. + +Then suddenly a frightful suspicion dawned upon Gustavo--it was more than +a suspicion; it was an absolute certainty which in his excitement he had +overlooked. From where had the American gentleman dropped? Not the sky, +assuredly, and there was no place else possible, unless the door of the +summer-house. Yes, he had been in the summer-house, and not sleeping +either. An indefinable something about his manner informed Gustavo that +he was privy to the entire conversation. Gustavo, a picture of guilty +remorse, searched his memory for the words he had used. Why, oh why, had +he not piled up adjectives? It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and he +had wantonly thrown it away. + +But--to his astonished relief--the young man appeared to be bearing no +malice. He appeared, on the contrary, quite unusually cheerful as he +sauntered, whistling, across the court and seated himself in the exact +chair the signorina had occupied. He plunged his hand into his pocket +suggestively--Gustavo had been the only one omitted in the distribution +of silver--and drew forth a roll of bills. Having selected five crisp +five-lire notes, he placed them under the sugar bowl, and watched his +companion while he blew three meditative rings of smoke. + +'Gustavo,' he inquired, 'do you suppose you could find me some nice, +gentle, lady-like donkeys, and a red sash and a pair of earrings?' + +Gustavo's fascinated gaze had been fixed upon the sugar bowl and he had +only half caught the words. + +'_Scusi_, signore, I no understand.' + +'Just sit down, Gustavo, it makes me nervous to see you standing all the +time. I can't be comfortable, you know, unless everybody else is +comfortable. Now pay strict attention and see if you can grasp my +meaning.' + +Gustavo dubiously accepted the edge of the indicated chair; he wished to +humour the signore's mood, however incomprehensible that mood might be. +For half an hour he listened with strained attention while the gentleman +talked and toyed with the sugar bowl. Amazement, misgiving, amusement, +daring, flashed in succession across his face; in the end he leaned +forward with shining eyes. + +'_Si, si_,' he whispered after a conspiratorial glance over his shoulder, +'I will do it all; you may trust to me.' + +The young man rose, removed the sugar bowl, and sauntered on toward the +road. Gustavo pocketed the notes and gazed after him. + +'_Dio mio_,' he murmured as he set about gathering up the glasses, 'zese +Americans!' + +At the gate the young man paused to light another cigarette. + +'_Addio_, Gustavo,' he called over his shoulder, '_don't_ forget the +earrings!' + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +The table was set on the terrace; breakfast was served and the company +was gathered. Breakfast consisted of the usual caffe-latte, rolls and +strained honey, and--since a journey was to the fore and something +sustaining needed--a soft-boiled egg apiece. There were four persons +present, though there should have been five. The two guests were an +Englishman and his wife, whom the chances of travel had brought over +night to Valedolmo. + +Between them, presiding over the coffee machine, was Mr. Wilder's sister, +'Miss Hazel'--never 'Miss Wilder' except to the butcher and baker. It was +the cross of her life, she had always affirmed, that her name was not +Mary or Jane or Rebecca. 'Hazel' does well enough when one is eighteen +and beautiful, but when one is fifty and no longer beautiful, it is +little short of absurd. But if any one at fifty could carry such a name +gracefully, it was Miss Hazel Wilder; her fifty years sat as jauntily as +Constance's twenty-two. This morning she was very business-like in her +short skirt, belted jacket, and green felt Alpine hat with a feather in +the side. No one would mistake her for a cyclist or a golfer or a +motorist or anything in the world but an Alpine climber; whatever Miss +Hazel was or was not, she was always _game_. + +Across from Miss Hazel sat her brother in knickerbockers, his Alpine +stock at his elbow and also his fan. Since his domicile in Italy, Mr. +Wilder's fan had assumed the nature of a symbol; he could no more be +separated from it than St. Sebastian from his arrows or St. Laurence from +his gridiron. At Mr. Wilder's elbow was the empty chair where Constance +should have been--she who had insisted on six as a proper breakfast hour, +and had grudgingly consented to postpone it till half-past out of +deference to her sleepy-headed elders. Her father had finished his egg +and hers too, before she appeared, as nonchalant and smiling as if she +were out the earliest of all. + +'I think you might have waited!' was her greeting from the doorway. + +She advanced to the table, saluted in military fashion, dropped a kiss on +her father's bald spot, and possessed herself of the empty chair. She too +was clad in mountain-climbing costume, in so far as blouse and skirt and +leather leggings went, but above her face there fluttered the fluffy +white brim of a ruffled sun hat with a bunch of pink rosebuds set over +one ear. + +'I am sorry not to wear my own Alpine hat, Aunt Hazel; I look so +deliciously German in it, but I simply can't afford to burn all the skin +off my nose.' + +'You can't make us believe that,' said her father. 'The reason is, that +Lieutenant di Ferara and Captain Coroloni are going with us to-day, and +that this hat is more becoming than the other.' + +'It's one reason,' Constance agreed imperturbably, 'but, as I say, I +don't wish to burn the skin off my nose, because that is unbecoming too. +You are ungrateful, Dad,' she added as she helped herself to honey with a +liberal hand, 'I invited them solely on your account because you like to +hear them talk English. Have the donkeys come?' + +'The donkeys are at the back door nibbling the buds off the rose bushes.' + +'And the driver?' + +'Is sitting on the kitchen doorstep drinking coffee and smiling over the +top of his cup at Elizabetta. There are two of him.' + +'Two! I only ordered one.' + +'One is the official driver and the other is a boy whom he has brought +along to do the work.' + +Constance eyed her father sharply. There was something at once guilty and +triumphant about his expression. + +'What is it, Dad?' she inquired sternly. 'I suppose he has not got a sash +and earrings.' + +'On the contrary, he has.' + +'Really? How clever of Gustavo! I hope,' she added anxiously, 'that he +talks good Italian?' + +'I don't know about his Italian, but he talks uncommonly good English.' + +'English!' There was reproach, disgust, disillusionment, in her tone. +'Not really, father?' + +'Yes, really and truly--almost as well as I do. He has lived in New York +and he speaks English like a dream--real English--not the +Gustavo--Lieutenant di Ferara kind. I can understand what he says.' + +'How simply horrible!' + +'Very convenient, I should say.' + +'If there's anything I detest, it's an Americanized Italian--and here in +Valedolmo of all places, where you have a right to demand something +unique and romantic and picturesque and real. It's too bad of Gustavo! I +shall never place any faith in his judgment again. You may talk English +to the man if you like; I shall address him in nothing but Italian.' + +As they rose from the table she suggested pessimistically, 'Let's go and +look at the donkeys--I suppose they'll be horrid, scraggly, knock-kneed +little beasts.' + +They turned out, however, to be unusually attractive, as donkeys go, and +they were innocently engaged in nibbling, not rose leaves, but grass, +under the tutelage of a barefoot boy. Constance patted their shaggy +mouse-coloured noses, made the acquaintance of the boy, whose name was +Beppo, and looked about for the driver proper. He rose and bowed as she +approached. His appearance was even more violently spectacular than she +had ordered; Gustavo had given good measure. + +He wore a loose white shirt--immaculately white--with a red silk +handkerchief knotted about his throat, brown corduroy knee-breeches, and +a red cotton sash with the hilt of a knife conspicuously protruding. His +corduroy jacket was slung carelessly across his shoulders, his hat was +cocked jauntily, with a red heron feather stuck in the band; last, +perfect touch of all, in his ears--at his ears rather (a close +examination revealed the thread)--two golden hoops flashed in the +sunlight. His skin was dark--not too dark--just a good healthy out-door +tan: his brows level and heavy, his gaze candour itself. He wore a tiny +suggestion of a moustache which turned up at the corners (a suspicious +examination of this, might have revealed the fact that it was touched up +with burnt cork); there was no doubt but that he was a handsome fellow, +and his attire suggested that he knew it. + +Constance clasped her hands in an ecstasy of admiration. + +'He's perfect!' she cried. 'Where on earth did Gustavo find him? Did you +ever see anything so beautiful?' she appealed to the others. 'He looks +like a brigand in opera bouffe.' + +The donkey-man reddened visibly and fumbled with his hat. + +'My dear,' her father warned, 'he understands English.' + +She continued to gaze with the open admiration one would bestow upon a +picture or a view or a blue-ribbon horse. The man flashed her a momentary +glance from a pair of searching grey eyes, then dropped his gaze humbly +to the ground. + +'_Buon giorno_,' he said in glib Italian. + +Constance studied him more intently. There was something elusively +familiar about his expression; she was sure she had seen him before. + +'_Buon giorno_,' she replied in Italian. 'You have lived in the United +States?' + +'_Si_, signorina.' + +'What is your name?' + +'I spik Angleesh,' he observed. + +'I don't care if you do speak English; I prefer Italian--what is your +name?' She repeated the question in Italian. + +'_Si_, signorina,' he ventured again. An anxious look had crept to his +face and he hastily turned away and commenced carrying parcels from the +kitchen. Constance looked after him, puzzled and suspicious. The one +insult which she could not brook was for an Italian to fail to understand +her when she talked Italian. As he returned and knelt to tighten the +strap of a hamper, she caught sight of the thread that held his earring. +She looked a second longer, and a sudden smile of illumination flashed +to her face. She suppressed it quickly and turned away. + +'He seems rather slow about understanding,' she remarked to the others, +'but I dare say he'll do.' + +'The poor fellow is embarrassed,' apologized her father. 'His name is +Tony,' he added--even he had understood that much Italian. + +'Was there ever an Italian who had been in America whose name was not +Tony? Why couldn't he have been Angelico or Felice or Pasquale or +something decently picturesque?' + +'My dear,' Miss Hazel objected, 'I think you are hypercritical. The man +is scarcely to blame for his name.' + +'I suppose not,' she agreed, 'though I should have included that in my +order.' + +Further discussion was precluded by the appearance of a station-carriage +which turned in at the gate and stopped before them. Two officers +descended and saluted. In summer uniforms of white linen with gold +shoulder-straps, and shining top-boots, they rivalled the donkey-man in +decorativeness. Constance received them with flattering acclaim, while +she noted from the corner of her eye the effect upon Tony. He had not +counted upon this addition to the party, and was as scowling as she could +have wished. While the officers were engaged in making their bow to the +others, Constance casually reapproached the donkeys. Tony feigned +immersion in the business of strapping hampers; he had no wish to be +drawn into any Italian _tete-a-tete_. But to his relief she addressed him +this time in English. + +'Are these donkeys used to mountain-climbing?' + +'But yes, signorina! _Sicuramente_. Zay are ver' strong, ver' good. Zat +donk', signorina, he go all day and never one little stumble.' + +His English, she noted with amused appreciation, was an exact copy of +Gustavo's; he had learned his lesson well. But she allowed not the +slightest recognition of the fact to appear in her face. + +'And what are their names?' she inquired. + +'Dis is Fidilini, signorina, and zat one wif ze white nose is Macaroni, +and zat ovver is Cristoforo Colombo.' + +Elizabetta appeared in the doorway with two rush-covered flasks, and Tony +hurried forward to receive them. There was a complaisant set to his +shoulders as he strode off, Constance noted delightedly; he was +felicitating himself upon the ease with which he had fooled her. Well! +she would give him cause before the day was over for other than +felicitations. She stifled a laugh of prophetic triumph and sauntered +over to Beppo. + +'When Tony is engaged as a guide do you always go with him?' + +'Not always, signorina, but Carlo has wished me to go to-day to look +after the donkeys.' + +'And who is Carlo?' + +'He is the guide who owns them.' + +Beppo looked momentarily guilty; the answer had slipped out before he +thought. + +'Oh, indeed! But if Tony is a guide why doesn't he have donkeys of his +own?' + +'He used to, but one unfortunately fell into the lake and got drowned, +and the other died of a sickness.' + +He put forth this preposterous statement with a glance as grave and +innocent as that of a little cherub. + +'Is Tony a good guide?' + +'But yes, of the best!' + +There was growing anxiety in Beppo's tone. He divined suspicion behind +these persistent inquiries, and he knew that in case Tony were dismissed, +his own munificent pay would stop. + +'Do you understand any English?' she suddenly asked. + +He modestly repudiated any great knowledge. 'A word here, a word there; I +learn it in school.' + +'I see!' She paused for a moment and then inquired casually, 'Have you +known Tony long?' + +'_Si_, signorina.' + +'How long?' + +Beppo considered. Some one, clearly, must vouch for the man's +respectability. This was not in the lesson that had been taught him, but +he determined to branch out for himself. + +'He is my father, signorina.' + +'Really! He looks young to be your father--have you any brothers and +sisters, Beppo?' + +'I have four brothers, signorina, and five sisters.' He fell back upon +the truth with relief. + +'_Davvero_!' + +The signorina smiled upon him, a smile of such heavenly sweetness that he +instantly joined the already crowded ranks of her admirers. She drew from +her pocket a handful of coppers and dropped them into his grimy little +palm. + +'Here, Beppo, are some soldi for the brothers and sisters. I hope that +you will be good and obedient and _always_ tell me the truth.' + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +After some delay--owing to Tony's inability to balance the chafing-dish +on Cristoforo Colombo's back--they filed from the gateway, an imposing +cavalcade. The ladies were on foot, loftily oblivious to the fact that +three empty saddles awaited their pleasure. Constance, a gesticulating +officer at either hand, was vivaciously talking Italian, while Tony, +trudging behind, listened with a sombre light in his eye. She now and +then cast a casual glance over her shoulder, and as she caught sight of +his gloomy face the animation of her Italian redoubled. The situation +held for her mischief-loving soul undreamed-of possibilities; and though +she ostensibly occupied herself with the officers, she by no means +neglected the donkey-man. + +During the first few miles of the journey he earned his four francs. +Twice he reshifted the pack because Constance thought it insecure (it was +a disgracefully unprofessional pack; most guides would have blushed at +the making of it); once he retraced their path some two hundred yards in +search of a veil she thought she had dropped--it turned out that she had +had it in her pocket all of the time. He chased Fidilini over half the +mountainside while the others were resting, and he carried the +chafing-dish for a couple of miles because it refused to adjust itself +nicely to the pack. The morning ended by his being left behind with a +balking donkey, while the others completed the last ascent that led to +their halting-place for lunch. + +It was a small plateau shaded by oak trees with a broad view below them, +and a mountain stream foaming down from the rocks above. It was owing to +Beppo's knowledge of the mountain paths rather than Tony's which had +guided them to this agreeable spot; though no one in the party except +Constance appeared to have noted the fact. Tony arrived some ten minutes +after the others, hot but victorious, driving Cristoforo Colombo before +him. Constance welcomed his return with an off-hand nod and set him about +preparing lunch. He and Beppo served it and repacked the hampers, +entirely ignored by the others of the party. Poor Tony was beginning to +realize that a donkey-man lives on a desert island in so far as any +companionship goes. But his moment was coming. As they were about to +start on, Constance spied high above their heads, where the stream burst +from the rocks, a clump of starry white blossoms. + +'Edelweiss!' she cried. 'Oh, I must have it--it's the first I ever saw +growing; I hadn't supposed we were high enough.' She glanced at the +officers. + +The ascent was not dangerous, but it was undeniably muddy, and they both +wore white; with very good cause they hesitated. And while they +hesitated, the opportunity was lost. Tony sprang forward, scrambled up +the precipice hand over hand, swung out across the stream by the aid of +an overhanging branch, and secured the flowers. It was very gracefully +and easily done, and a burst of applause greeted his descent. He divided +his flowers into two equal parts, and sweeping off his hat, presented +them with a bow, not to Constance, but to the officers, who somewhat +sulkily passed them on. She received them with a smile; for an instant +her eyes met Tony's, and he fell back, rewarded. + +The captain and lieutenant for the first time regarded the donkey-man, +and they regarded him narrowly, red sash, earrings, stiletto and all. +Constance caught the look and laughed. + +'Isn't he picturesque?' she inquired in Italian. 'The head-waiter at the +Hotel du Lac found him for me. He has been in the United States and +speaks English, which is a great convenience.' + +The two said nothing, but they looked at each other and shrugged. + +The donkeys were requisitioned for the rest of the journey; while Tony +led Miss Hazel's mount, he could watch Constance ahead on Fidilini, an +officer marching at each side of her saddle. She appeared to divide her +favours with nice discrimination; it was not her fault if the two were +jealous of one another. Tony could draw from that obvious fact what +consolation there was in it. + +The ruined fortress, their destination, was now exactly above their +heads. The last ascent boldly skirted the shoulder of the mountain, and +then doubled upward in a series of serpentine coils. Below them the +whole of Lake Garda was spread like a map. Mr. Wilder and the Englishman, +having paused at the edge of the declivity, were endeavouring to trace +the boundary line of Austria, and they called upon the officers for help. +The two relinquished their post at Constance's side, while the donkeys +kept on past them up the hill. The winding path was both stony and steep, +and, from a donkey's standpoint, thoroughly objectionable. Fidilini was +well in the lead, trotting sedately, when suddenly, without the slightest +warning, he chose to revolt. Whether Constance pulled the wrong rein, or +whether, as she affirmed, it was merely his natural badness, in any case, +he suddenly veered from the path and took a cross cut down the rocky +slope below them. Donkeys are fortunately sure-footed beasts; otherwise +the two would have plunged together down the sheer face of the mountain. +As it was it looked ghastly enough to the four men below; they shouted to +Constance to stick on, and commenced scrambling up the slope with +absolutely no hope of reaching her. + +It was Tony's chance a second time to show his agility--and this time to +some purpose. He was a dozen yards behind and much lower down, which gave +him a start. Leaping forward, he dropped over the precipice, a fall of +ten feet, to a narrow ledge below. Running toward them at an angle, he +succeeded in cutting off their flight. Before the frightened donkey could +swerve, Tony had seized him--by the tail--and had braced himself against +a boulder. It was not a dignified rescue, but at least it was effective; +Fidilini came to a halt. Constance, not expecting the sudden jolt, +toppled over sidewise, and Tony, being equally unprepared to receive her, +the two went down together rolling over and over on the grassy slope. + +'My dear, are you hurt?' + +Mr. Wilder, quite pale with anxiety, came scrambling to her side. +Constance sat up and laughed hysterically, while she examined a bleeding +elbow. + +'N--no, not dangerously--but I think perhaps Tony is.' + +Tony however was at least able to run, as he was again on his feet and +after the donkey. Captain Coroloni and her father helped Constance to her +feet while Lieutenant di Ferara recovered a side-comb and the white sun +hat. They all climbed down together to the path below, none the worse for +the averted tragedy. Tony rejoined them somewhat short of breath, but +leading a humbled Fidilini. Constance, beyond a brief glance, said +nothing; but her father, to the poor man's intense embarrassment, shook +him warmly by the hand with the repeated assurance that his bravery +should not go unrewarded. + +They completed their journey on foot; Tony following behind, quite +conscious that, if he had played the part of hero, he had done it with a +lamentable lack of grace. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Tony was stretched on the parapet that bordered the stone-paved platform +of the fortress. Above him the crumbling tower rose many feet higher, +below him a marvellous view stretched invitingly; but Tony had eyes +neither for mediaeval architecture nor picturesque scenery. He lay with +his coat doubled under his head for a pillow, in a frowning contemplation +of the cracked stone pavement. + +The four other men, after an hour or so of easy lounging under the pines +at the base of the tower, had organized a fresh expedition to the summit +a mile farther up. Mr. Wilder, since morning, had developed into an +enthusiastic mountain-climber--regret might come with the morrow, but as +yet ambition still burned high. The remainder of the party were less +energetic. The three ladies were resting on rugs spread under the pines; +Beppo was sleeping in the sun, his hat over his face, and the donkeys, +securely tethered (Tony had attended to that), were innocently nibbling +mountain herbs. There was no obvious reason why, as he lighted a +cigarette and stretched himself on the parapet, Tony should not have +been the most self-satisfied guide in the world. He had not only +completed the expedition in safety, but had saved the heroine's life by +the way; and even if the heroine did not appear as thankful as she might, +still, her father had shown due gratitude, and, what was to the point, +had promised a reward. That should have been enough for any reasonable +donkey driver. + +But it was distinctly not enough for Tony. He was in a fine temper as he +lay on the parapet and scowled at the pavement. Nothing was turning out +as he had planned. He had not counted on the officers or her predilection +for Italian. He had not counted on chasing donkeys in person while she +stood and looked on--Beppo was to have attended to that. He had not +counted on anything quite so absurd as his heroic capture of Fidilini. +Since she must let the donkey run away with her, why, in the name of all +that was romantic, could it not have occurred by moonlight? Why, when he +caught the beast, could it not have been by the bridle instead of the +tail? And above all, why could she not have fallen into his arms, instead +of on top of him? + +The stage scenery was set for romance, but from the moment the curtain +rose the play had persisted in being farce. However, farce or romance, it +was all one to him so long as he could play leading-man; what he +objected to was the minor part. The fact was clear that sash and earrings +could never compete with uniform and sword and the Italian language. His +mind was made up; he would withdraw to-night before he was found out, and +leave Valedolmo to-morrow morning by the early boat. Miss Constance +Wilder should never have the satisfaction of knowing the truth. + +He was engaged in framing a dignified speech to Mr. Wilder--thanking him +for his generosity, but declining to accept a reward for what had been +merely a matter of duty--when his reflections were cut short by the sound +of footsteps on the stairs. They were by no means noiseless footsteps; +there were good strong nails all over the bottom of Constance's shoes. +The next moment she appeared in the doorway. Her eyes were centred on the +view; she looked entirely over Tony. It was not until he rose to his feet +that she realized his presence with a start. + +'Dear me, is that you, Tony? You frightened me! Don't get up; I know you +must be tired.' This with a sweetly solicitous smile. + +Tony smiled too and resumed his seat; it was the first time since morning +that she had condescended to consider his feelings. She sauntered over to +the opposite side and stood with her back to him examining the view. Tony +turned his back and affected to be engaged with the view in the other +direction; he too could play at indifference. + +Constance finished with her view first, and crossing over, she seated +herself in the deep embrasure of a window close beside Tony's parapet. He +rose again at her approach, but there was no eagerness in the motion; it +was merely the necessary deference of a donkey-driver toward his +employer. + +'Oh, sit down,' she insisted, 'I want to talk to you.' + +He opened his eyes with a show of surprise; his hurt feelings insisted +that all the advances should be on her part. Constance seemed in no hurry +to begin; she removed her hat, pushed back her hair, and sat playing with +the bunch of edelweiss which was stuck in among the roses--flattening the +petals, rearranging the flowers with careful fingers; a touch, it seemed +to Tony's suddenly clamouring senses, that was almost a caress. Then she +looked up quickly and caught his gaze. She leaned forward with a laugh. + +'Tony,' she said, 'do you spik any language besides Angleesh?' + +He triumphantly concealed all sign of emotion. + +'_Si_, signorina, I spik my own language.' + +'Would you mind my asking what that language is?' + +He indulged in a moment's deliberation. Italian was clearly out of the +question, and French she doubtless knew better than he--he deplored this +polyglot education girls were receiving nowadays. + +He had it! He would be Hungarian. His sole fellow guest in the hotel at +Verona the week before had been a Hungarian nobleman, who had informed +him that the Magyar language was one of the most difficult on the face of +the globe. There was at least little likelihood that she was acquainted +with that. + +'My own language, signorina, is Magyar.' + +'Magyar?' She was clearly taken by surprise. + +'_Si_, signorina, I am Hungarian; I was born in Budapest.' He met her +wide-opened eyes with a look of innocent candour. + +'Really!' She beamed upon him delightedly; he was playing up even better +than she had hoped. 'But if you are Hungarian, what are you doing here in +Italy, and how does it happen that your name is Antonio?' + +'My movver was Italian. She name me Antonio after ze blessed Saint +Anthony of Padua. If you lose anysing, signorina, and you say a prayer to +Saint Anthony every day for nine days, on ze morning of ze tenth you will +find it again.' + +'That is very interesting,' she said politely. 'How do you come to know +English so well, Tony?' + +'We go live in Amerik' when I li'l boy.' + +'And you never learned Italian? I should think your mother would have +taught it to you.' + +He imitated Beppo's gestures. + +'A word here, a word there. We spik Magyar at home.' + +'Talk a little Magyar, Tony. I should like to hear it.' + +'What shall I say, signorina?' + +'Oh, say anything you please.' + +He affected to hesitate while he rehearsed the scraps of language at his +command. Latin--French--German--none of them any good--but, thank +goodness, he had elected Anglo-Saxon in college; and thank goodness again +the professor had made them learn passages by heart. He glanced up with +an air of flattered diffidence and rendered, in a conversational +inflection, an excerpt from the Anglo-Saxon Bible. + +'_Ealle gesceafta, heofonas and englas, sunnan and monan, steorran and +eorthan, he gesceop and geworhte on six dagum._' + +'It is a very beautiful language. Say some more.' + +He replied with glib promptness, with a passage from Beowulf-- + +'_Hie dygel lond warigeath, wulfhleothu, windige naessas._' + +'What does that mean?' + +Tony looked embarrassed. + +'I don't believe you know!' + +'It means--_scusi_, signorina, I no like to say.' + +'You don't know.' + +'It means--you make me say, signorina,--"I sink you ver' beautiful like +ze angels in Paradise."' + +'Indeed! A donkey-driver, Tony, should not say anything like that.' + +'But it is true.' + +'The more reason you should not say it.' + +'You asked me, signorina; I could not tell you a lie.' + +The signorina smiled slightly and looked away at the view; Tony seized +the opportunity to look sidewise at her. She turned back and caught him; +he dropped his eyes humbly to the floor. + +'Does Beppo speak Magyar?' she inquired. + +'Beppo?' There was wonder in his tone at the turn her questions were +taking. 'I sink not, signorina.' + +'That must be very inconvenient. Why don't you teach it to him?' + +'_Si_, signorina.' He was plainly nonplussed. + +'Yes, he says that you are his father, and I should think----' + +'His father?' Tony appeared momentarily startled; then he laughed. 'He +did not mean his real father; he mean--how you say--his godfather. I +give to him his name when he get christened.' + +'Oh, I see!' + +Her next question was also a surprise. + +'Tony,' she inquired with startling suddenness, 'why do you wear +earrings?' + +He reddened slightly. + +'Because--because--der's a girl I like ver' much, signorina; she sink +earrings look nice. I wear zem for her.' + +'Oh!--But why do you fasten them on with thread?' + +'Because I no wear zem always. In Italia, yes; in Amerik', no. When I +marry dis girl and go back home, zen I do as I please, now I haf to do as +she please.' + +'H'm----' said Constance, ruminatingly. 'Where does this girl live, +Tony?' + +'In Valedolmo, signorina.' + +'What does she look like?' + +'She look like----' His eyes searched the landscape and came back to her +face. 'Oh, ver' beautiful, signorina. She have hair brown and gold, and +eyes--yes, eyes! Zay are sometimes black, signorina, and sometimes grey. +Her laugh, it sounds like the song of a nightingale.' He clasped his +hands and rolled his eyes in a fine imitation of Gustavo. 'She is +beautiful, signorina, beautiful as ze angels in Paradise!' + +'There seem to be a good many people beautiful as the angels in +Paradise.' + +'She is most beautiful of all.' + +'What is her name?' + +'Costantina.' He said it softly, his eyes on her face. + +'Ah,' Constance rose and turned away with a shrug. Her manner suggested +that he had gone too far. + +'She wash clothes at ze Hotel du Lac,' he called after her. + +Constance paused and glanced over her shoulder with a laugh. + +'Tony,' she said, 'the quality which I admire most in a donkey-driver, +besides truthfulness and picturesqueness, is imagination.' + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +On the homeward journey Tony again trudged behind while the officers held +their post at Constance's side. But Tony's spirits were still singing +from the little encounter on the castle platform, and in spite of the +animated Italian which floated back, he was determined to look at the +sunny side of the adventure. It was Mr. Wilder who unconsciously supplied +him with a second opportunity for conversation. He and the Englishman, +being deep in a discussion involving statistics of the Italian army +budget, called on the two officers to set them straight. Tony, at their +order, took his place beside the saddle; Constance was not to be +abandoned again to Fidilini's caprice. Miss Hazel and the Englishwoman +were ambling on ahead in as matter-of-fact a fashion as if that were +their usual mode of travel. Their donkeys were of a sedater turn of mind +than Fidilini--a fact for which Tony offered thanks. + +They were by this time well over the worst part of the mountain, and the +brief Italian twilight was already fading. Tony, with a sharp eye on the +path ahead and a ready hand for the bridle, was attending strictly to the +duties of a well-trained donkey-man. It was Constance again who opened +the conversation. + +'Ah, Tony?' + +'_Si_, signorina?' + +'Did you ever read any Angleesh books--or do you do most of your reading +in Magyar?' + +'I haf read one, two, Angleesh books.' + +'Did you ever read--er--_The Lightning Conductor_, for example?' + +'No, signorina; I haf never read heem.' + +'I think it would interest you. It's about a man who pretends he's a +chauffeur in order to--to---- There are any number of books with the same +motive; _She Stoops to Conquer_, _Two Gentlemen of Verona_, _Lalla +Rookh_, _Monsieur Beaucaire_--Oh, dozens of them! It's an old plot; it +doesn't require the slightest originality to think of it.' + +'_Si_, signorina? Sank you.' Tony's tone was exactly like Gustavo's when +he has failed to get the point, but feels that a comment is necessary. + +Constance laughed and allowed a silence to follow, while Tony redirected +his attention to Fidilini's movements. His 'Yip! Yip!' was an exact +imitation, though in a deeper guttural, of Beppo's cries before them. It +would have taken a close observer to suspect that he had not been bred to +the calling. + +'You have not always been a donkey-driver?' she inquired after an +interval of amused scrutiny. + +'Not always, signorina.' + +'What did you do in New York?' + +'I play hand-organ, signorina.' + +Tony removed his hand from the bridle and ground 'Yankee Doodle' from an +imaginary instrument. + +'I make musica, signorina, wif--wif--how do you say, monk, monka? His +name Vittorio Emanuele. Ver' nice monk--simpatica affezionata.' + +'You've never been an actor?' + +'An actor? No, signorina.' + +'You should try it; I fancy you might have some talent in that +direction.' + +'_Si_, signorina. Sank you.' + +She let the conversation drop, and Tony, after an interval of silence, +fell to humming Santa Lucia in a very presentable baritone. The tune, +Constance noted, was true enough, but the words were far astray. + +'That's a very pretty song, Tony, but you don't appear to know it.' + +'I no understand Italian, signorina. I just learn ze tune because +Costantina like it.' + +'You do everything that Costantina wishes?' + +'Everysing! But if you could see her you would not wonder. She has hair +brown and gold, and her eyes, signorina, are sometimes grey and sometimes +black, and her laugh sounds like----' + +'Oh, yes, I know; you told me all that before.' + +'When she goes out to work in ze morning, signorina, wif the sunlight +shining on her hair, and a smile on her lips, and a basket of clothes on +her head---- Ah, _zen_ she is beautiful!' + +'When are you going to be married?' + +'I do not know, signorina. I have not asked her yet.' + +'Then how do you know she wishes to marry you?' + +'I do not know; I just hope.' + +He rolled his eyes toward the moon which was rising above the mountains +on the other side of the lake, and with a deep sigh he fell back into +Santa Lucia. + +Constance leaned forward and scanned his face. + +'Tony! Tell me your name.' There was an undertone of meaning, a note of +persuasion in her voice. + +'Antonio, signorina.' + +She shook her head with a show of impatience. + +'Your real name--your last name.' + +'Yamhankeesh.' + +'Oh!' she laughed. 'Antonio Yamhankeesh doesn't seem to me a very musical +combination; I don't think I ever heard anything like it before.' + +'It suits me, signorina.' His tone carried a suggestion of wounded +dignity. 'Yamhankeesh has a ver' beautiful meaning in my language--"He +who dares not, wins not."' + +'And that is your motto?' + +'_Si_, signorina.' + +'A very dangerous motto, Tony; it will some day get you into trouble.' + +They had reached the base of the mountain, and their path now broadened +into the semblance of a road which wound through the fields, between +fragrant hedgerows, under towering chestnut trees. All about them was the +fragrance of the dewy, flower-scented summer night, the flash of +fireflies, the chirp of crickets, occasionally the note of a nightingale. +Before them out of a cluster of cypresses, rose the square graceful +outline of the village campanile. + +Constance looked about with a pleased, contented sigh. + +'Isn't Italy beautiful, Tony?' + +'Yes, signorina, but I like America better.' + +'We have no cypresses and ruins and nightingales in America, Tony. We +have a moon sometimes, but not that moon.' + +They passed from the moonlight into the shade of some overhanging +chestnut trees. Fidilini stumbled suddenly over a break in the path and +Tony pulled him up sharply. His hand on the bridle rested for an instant +over hers. + +'Italy is beautiful--to make love in,' he whispered. + +She drew her hand away abruptly, and they passed out into the moonlight +again. Ahead of them where the road branched into the highway, the others +were waiting for Constance to catch up, the two officers looking back +with an eager air of expectation. Tony glanced ahead and added with a +quick frown-- + +'But perhaps I do not need to tell you that--you may know it already?' + +'You are impertinent, Tony.' + +She pulled the donkey into a trot that left him behind. + +The highway was broad and they proceeded in a group, the conversation +general and in English, Tony quite naturally having no part in it. But at +the corners where the road to the village and the road to the villa +separated, Fidilini obligingly turned stubborn again. His mind bent upon +rest and supper, he insisted upon going to the village; the harder +Constance pulled on the left rein, the more fixed was his determination +to turn to the right. + +'Help! I'm being run away with again,' she called over her shoulder as +the donkey's pace quickened into a trot. + +Tony, awakening to his duty, started in pursuit, while the others +laughingly shouted directions. He did not run as determinedly as he +might, and they had covered considerable ground before he overtook them. +He turned Fidilini's head and they started back--at a walk. + +'Signorina,' said Tony, 'may I ask a question, a little impertinent?' + +'No, certainly not.' + +Silence. + +'Ah, Tony?' she asked presently. + +'_Si_, signorina?' + +'What is it you want to ask?' + +'Are you going to marry that Italian lieutenant--or perhaps the captain?' + +'That _is_ impertinent.' + +'Are you?' + +'You forget yourself, Tony. It is not your place to ask such a question.' + +'_Si_, signorina; it is my place. If it is true I cannot be your +donkey-man any longer.' + +'No, it is not true, but that is no concern of yours.' + +'Are you going on another trip Friday--to Monte Maggiore?' + +'Yes.' + +'May I come with you?' + +His tone implied more than his words. She hesitated a moment, then +shrugged indifferently. + +'Just as you please, Tony. If you don't wish to work for us any more I +dare say we can find another man.' + +'It is as you please, signorina. If you wish it, I come, if you do not +wish it, I go.' + +She made no answer. They joined the others and the party proceeded to the +villa gates. + +Lieutenant di Ferara helped Constance dismount, while Captain Coroloni, +with none too good a grace, held the donkey. A careful observer would +have fancied that the lieutenant was ahead, and that both he and the +captain knew it. Tony untied the bundles, dumped them on the kitchen +floor, and waited respectfully, hat in hand, while Mr. Wilder searched +his pockets for change. He counted out four lire and added a note. Tony +pocketed the lire and returned the note, while Mr. Wilder stared his +astonishment. + +'Good-bye, Tony,' Constance smiled as he turned away. + +'Good-bye, signorina.' There was a note of finality in his voice. + +'Well!' Mr. Wilder ejaculated. 'That is the first----' 'Italian' he +started to say, but he caught the word before it was out--'donkey-driver +I ever saw refuse money.' + +Lieutenant di Ferara raised his shoulders. + +'_Mache_! The fellow is too honest; you do well to watch him.' There was +a world of disgust in his tone. + +Constance glanced after the retreating figure and laughed. + +'Tony!' she called. + +He kept on; she raised her voice. + +'Mr. Yamhankeesh.' + +He paused. + +'You call, signorina?' + +'Be sure and be here by half-past six on Friday morning; we must start +early.' + +'Sank you, signorina. Good night.' + +'Good night, Tony.' + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +The Hotel du Lac may be approached in two ways. The ordinary, obvious +way, which incoming tourists of necessity choose, is by the high road and +the gate. But the romantic way is by water. One sees only the garden +then, and the garden is the distinguished feature of the place; it was +planned long before the hotel was built to adorn a marquis's pleasure +house. There are grottos, arbours, fountains, a winding stream, and, +stretching the length of the water front, a deep cool grove of interlaced +plane trees. At the end of the grove, half a dozen broad stone steps dip +down to a tiny harbour which is carpeted on the surface with lily pads. +The steps are worn by the lapping waves of fifty years, and are grown +over with slippery, slimy water weeds. + +The world was just stirring from its afternoon siesta, when the +_Farfalla_ dropped her yellow sails and floated into the shady little +harbour. Giuseppe prodded and pushed along the fern-grown banks until the +keel jolted against the water-steps. He sprang ashore and steadied the +boat while Constance alighted. She slipped on the mossy step--almost went +under--and righted herself with a laugh that rang gaily through the +grove. + +She came up the steps still smiling, shook out her fluffy pink skirts, +straightened her rose-trimmed hat, and glanced reconnoitringly about the +grove. One might reasonably expect, attacking the hotel as it were from +the flank, to capture unawares any stray guest. But aside from a +chaffinch or so and a brown and white spotted calf tied to a tree, the +grove was empty--blatantly empty. There was a shade of disappointment in +Constance's glance. One naturally does not like to waste one's best +embroidered gown on a spotted calf. + +Then her eye suddenly brightened as it lighted on a vivid splash of +yellow under a tree. She crossed over and picked it up--a paper-covered +French novel; the title was _Bijou_, the author was Gyp. She turned to +the first page. Any reasonably careful person might be expected to write +his name in the front of a book--particularly a French book--before +abandoning it to the mercies of a foreign hotel. But the several +fly-leaves were immaculately innocent of all sign of ownership. + +So intent was she upon this examination, that she did not hear footsteps +approaching down the long arbour that led from the house; so intent was +the young man upon a frowning scrutiny of the path before him, that he +did not see Constance until he had passed from the arbour into the grove. +Then simultaneously they raised their heads and looked at each other. For +a startled second they stared--rather guiltily--both with the air of +having been caught. Constance recovered her poise first; she nodded--a +nod which contained not the slightest hint of recognition--and laughed. + +'Oh!' she said. 'I suppose this is your book? And I am afraid you have +caught me red-handed. You must excuse me for looking at it, but usually +at this season only German Alpine climbers stop at the Hotel du Lac, and +I was surprised, you know, to find that German Alpine climbers did +anything so frivolous as reading Gyp.' + +The man bowed with a gesture which made her free of the book, but he +continued his silence. Constance glanced at him again, and this time she +allowed a flash of recognition to appear in her face. + +'Oh!' she re-exclaimed with a note of interested politeness, 'you are the +young man who stumbled into Villa Rosa last Monday looking for the garden +of the prince?' + +He bowed a second time, an answering flash appearing in his face. + +'And you are the young woman who was sitting on the wall beside a row +of--of----' + +'Stockings?' She nodded. 'I trust you found the prince's garden without +difficulty?' + +'Yes, thank you. Your directions were very explicit.' + +A slight pause followed, the young man waiting deferentially for her to +take the lead. + +'You find Valedolmo interesting?' she inquired. + +'Interesting!' His tone was enthusiastic. 'Aside from the prince's +garden, which contains a cedar of Lebanon and an india-rubber plant from +South America, there is the Luini in the chapel of San Bartolomeo, and +the statue of Garibaldi in the piazza. And then----' he waved his hand +toward the lake, 'there is always the view.' + +'Yes,' she agreed, 'one can always look at the view.' + +Her eyes wandered to the lake, and across the lake to Monte Maggiore with +clouds drifting about its peak. And while she obligingly studied the +mountain, he studied the effect of the pink gown and the rose-bud hat. +She turned back suddenly and caught him; it was a disconcerting habit of +Constance's. He politely looked away, and she--with frank +interest--studied him. He was bareheaded and dressed in white flannels; +they were very becoming, she noted critically, and yet--they needed just +a touch of colour; a red sash, for example, and earrings. + +'The guests of the Hotel du Lac,' she remarked, 'have a beautiful garden +of their own. Just the mere pleasure of strolling about in it ought to +keep them contented with Valedolmo.' + +'Not necessarily,' he objected. 'Think of the Garden of Eden--the most +beautiful garden there has ever been, if report speaks true--and yet the +mere pleasure of strolling about didn't keep Adam contented. One gets +lonely, you know.' + +'Are you the only guest?' + +'Oh, no, there are four of us, but we're not very companionable; there's +such a discrepancy in languages.' + +'And you don't speak Italian?' + +He shook his head. + +'Only English and'--he glanced at the book in her hand--'French +indifferently well.' + +'I saw some one the other day who spoke Magyar--that is a beautiful +language.' + +'Yes?' he returned with polite indifference. 'I don't remember ever to +have heard it.' + +She laughed and glanced about. Her eyes lighted on the arbour hung with +grape-vines and wistaria, where, far at the other end, Gustavo's figure +was visible lounging in the yellow stucco doorway. The sight appeared to +recall an errand to her mind. She glanced down at a pink wicker-basket +which hung on her arm, and gathered up her skirts with a movement of +departure. + +The young man hastily picked up the conversation. + +'It _is_ a jolly old garden,' he affirmed. 'And there's something +pathetic about its appearing on souvenir post cards as a mere adjunct to +a blue and yellow hotel.' + +She nodded sympathetically. + +'Built for romance and abandoned to tourists--German tourists at that!' + +'Oh, not entirely--we've a Russian countess just now.' + +'A Russian countess?' Constance turned toward him with an air of +reawakened interest. 'Is she as young and beautiful and fascinating and +wicked as they always are in novels?' + +'Oh, dear no! Seventy, if she's a day. A nice grandmotherly old soul who +smokes cigarettes.' + +'Ah!' Constance smiled; there was even a trace of relief in her manner as +she nodded to the young man and turned away. His face reflected his +disappointment; he plainly wished to detain her, but could think of no +expedient. The spotted calf came to his rescue. The calf had been +watching them from the first, very much interested in the visitor; and +now, as she approached his tree, he stretched out his neck as far as the +tether permitted and sniffed insistently. She paused and patted him on +the head. The calf acknowledged the caress with a grateful _moo_; there +was a plaintive light in his liquid eyes. + +'Poor thing--he's lonely!' She turned to the young man and spoke with an +accent of reproach. 'The four guests of the Hotel du Lac don't show him +enough attention.' + +The young man shrugged. + +'We're tired of calves. It's only a matter of a day or so before he'll be +breaded and fried and served Milanese fashion with a sauce of tomato and +garlic.' + +Constance shook her head sympathetically; though whether her sympathy was +for the calf or the partakers of table d'hote was not quite clear. + +'I know,' she agreed. 'I've been a guest at the Hotel du Lac myself--it's +a tragedy to be born a calf in Italy!' + +She nodded and turned; it was evident this time that she was really +going. He took a hasty step forward. + +'Oh, I say, please don't go! Stay and talk to me--just a little while. +That calf isn't half so lonely as I am.' + +'I should like to, but really I mustn't. Elizabetta is waiting for me to +bring her some eggs. We are planning a trip up the Maggiore to-morrow, +and we have to have a cake to take with us. Elizabetta made one this +morning, but she forgot to put in the baking powder. Italian cooks are +not used to making cakes; they are much better at'--her eyes fell on the +calf--'veal and such things.' + +He folded his arms with an air of desperation. + +'I'm an American--one of your own countrymen; if you had a grain of +charity in your nature you would let the cake go.' + +She shook her head relentlessly. + +'Five days at Valedolmo! You would not believe the straits I've been +driven to in search of amusement.' + +'Yes?' There was a touch of curiosity in her tone. 'What for example?' + +'I am teaching Gustavo how to play tennis.' + +'Oh!' she said. 'How does he do?' + +'Broken three windows and a flower-pot and lost four balls.' + +She laughed and turned away; and then as an idea occurred to her, she +turned back and fixed her eyes sympathetically on his face. + +'I suppose Valedolmo is stupid for a man; but why don't you try +mountain-climbing? Everybody finds that diverting. There's a guide here +who speaks English--really comprehensible English. He's engaged for +to-morrow, but after that I dare say he'll be free. Gustavo can tell you +about him.' + +She nodded and smiled and turned down the arbour. + +The young man stood where she left him, with folded arms, watching her +pink gown as it receded down the long sun-flecked alley hung with purple +and green. He waited until it had been swallowed up in the yellow +doorway; then he fetched a deep breath and strolled to the water-wall. +After a few moments' prophetic contemplation of the mountain across the +lake, he threw back his head with a quick amused laugh, and got out a +cigarette and lighted it. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +As Constance emerged at the other end of the arbour, Gustavo, who had +been nodding on the bench beside the door, sprang to his feet, +consternation in his attitude. + +'Signorina!' he stammered. 'You come from ze garden?' + +She nodded in her usual off-hand manner and handed him the basket. + +'Eggs, Gustavo--two dozen if you can spare them. I am sorry always to be +wanting so many, but'--she sighed--'eggs are so breakable!' + +Gustavo rolled his eyes to heaven in silent thanksgiving. She had not, it +was evident, run across the American, and the cat was still safely in the +bag; but how much longer it could be kept there the saints alone knew. He +was feeling--very properly--guilty in regard to this latest escapade; but +what can a defenceless waiter do in the hands of an impetuous young +American whose pockets are stuffed with silver lire and five-franc notes? + +'Two dozen? Certainly, signorina. _Subitissimo_!' He took the basket and +hurried to the kitchen. + +Constance occupied the interval with the polyglot parrot of the +courtyard. The parrot, since she had last conversed with him, had +acquired several new expressions in the English tongue. As Gustavo +reappeared with the eggs, she confronted him sternly. + +'Have you been teaching this bird English? I am surprised!' + +'No, signorina. It was--it was----' Gustavo mopped his brow. 'He jus' +pick it up.' + +'I'm sorry that the Hotel du Lac has _guests_ that use such language; +it's very shocking.' + +'_Si_, signorina.' + +'By the way, Gustavo, how does it happen that that young American man +who left last week is still here?' + +Gustavo nearly dropped the eggs. + +'I just saw him in the garden with a book--I am sure it was the same +young man. What is he doing all this time in Valedolmo?' + +Gustavo's eyes roved wildly until they lighted on the tennis-court. + +'He--he stay, signorina, to play lawn-tennis wif me, but he go +to-morrow.' + +'Oh, he is going to-morrow?--What's his name, Gustavo?' + +She put the question indifferently while she stooped to pet a +tortoise-shell cat that was curled asleep on the bench. + +'His name?' Gustavo's face cleared. 'I get ze raygeester; you read heem +yourself.' + +He darted into the bureau and returned with a black book. + +'_Ecco_, signorina!' spreading it on the table before her. + +His alacrity should have aroused her suspicions; but she was too intent +on the matter in hand. She turned the pages and paused at the week's +entries; Rudolph Ziegelmann und Frau, Berlin; and just beneath, in bold +black letters that stretched from margin to margin, Abraham Lincoln, +U.S.A. + +Gustavo hovered above, anxiously watching her face; he had been told that +this would make everything right, that Abraham Lincoln was an +exceedingly respectable name. Constance's expression did not change. She +looked at the writing for fully three minutes, then she opened her purse +and looked inside. She laid the money for the eggs in a pile on the +table, and took out an extra lira which she held in her hand. + +'Gustavo,' she asked, 'do you think that you _could_ tell me the truth?' + +'Signorina!' he said reproachfully. + +'How did that name get there?' + +'He write it heemself!' + +'Yes, I dare say he did--but it doesn't happen to be his name. Oh, I'm +not blind; I can see plainly enough that he has scratched out his own +name underneath.' + +Gustavo leaned forward and affected to examine the page. 'It was a li'l' +blot, signorina; he scratch heem out.' + +'Gustavo!' Her tone was despairing. 'Are you incapable of telling the +truth? That young man's name is no more Abraham Lincoln than Victor +Emmanuel II. When did he write that, and why?' + +Gustavo's eyes were on the lira; he broke down and told the truth. + +'Yesterday night, signorina. He say, "Ze next time zat Signorina +Americana who is beautiful as ze angels come to zis hotel she look in ze +raygeester, an' I haf it feex ready."' + +'Oh, he said that, did he?' + +'_Si_, signorina.' + +'And his real name that comes on his letters?' + +'Jayreem Ailyar, signorina.' + +'Say it again, Gustavo.' She cocked her head. + +He gathered himself together for a supreme effort. He rolled his r's; he +shouted until the courtyard reverberated. + +'Meestair-r Jay-r-reem Ailyar-r!' + +Constance shook her head. + +'Sounds like Hungarian--at least the way you pronounce it. But anyway +it's of no consequence; I merely asked out of idle curiosity. And +Gustavo'--she still held the lira--'if he asks you if I looked in this +register, what are you going to say?' + +'I say, "No, Meestair Ailyar, she stay all ze time in ze courtyard +talking wif ze parrot, and she was ver' moch shocked at his Angleesh."' + +'Ah!' Constance smiled and laid the lira on the table. 'Gustavo,' she +said, 'I hope, for the sake of your immortal soul, that you go often to +confession.' + +The eggs were not heavy, but Gustavo insisted upon carrying them; he was +determined to see her safely aboard the _Farfalla_, with no further +accidents possible. That she had not identified the young man of the +garden with the donkey-driver of yesterday was clear--though how such +blindness was possible, was not clear. Probably she had only caught a +glimpse of his back at a distance; in any case he thanked a merciful +Providence and decided to risk no further chance. As they neared the end +of the arbour, Gustavo was talking--shouting fairly; their approach was +heralded. + +They turned into the grove. To Gustavo's horror the most conspicuous +object in it was this same reckless young man, seated on the water-wall +nonchalantly smoking a cigarette. The young man rose and bowed; Constance +nodded carelessly, while Gustavo behind her back made frantic signs for +him to flee, to escape while still there was time. The young man +telegraphed back by the same sign language that there was no danger; she +didn't suspect the truth. And to Gustavo's amazement, he fell in beside +them and strolled over to the water-steps. His recklessness was catching; +Gustavo suddenly determined upon a bold stroke himself. + +'Signorina,' he asked, 'zat man I send, zat donk'-driver--you like heem?' + +'Tony?' Her manner was indifferent. 'Oh, he does well enough; he seems +honest and truthful, though a little stupid.' + +Gustavo and the young man exchanged glances. + +'And, Gustavo,' she turned to him with a sweetly serious air that +admitted no manner of doubt but that she was in earnest. 'I told this +young man that in case he cared to do any mountain climbing, you would +find him the same guide. It would be very useful for him to have one who +speaks English.' + +Gustavo bowed in mute acquiescence. He could find no adequate words for +the situation. + +The boat drew alongside and Constance stepped in, but she did not sit +down. Her attention was attracted by two washer-women who had come +clattering on to the little rustic bridge that spanned the stream above +the water-steps. The women, their baskets of linen on their heads, had +paused to watch the embarkation. + +'Ah, Gustavo,' Constance asked over her shoulder, 'is there a +washer-woman here at the Hotel du Lac named Costantina?' + +'_Si_, signorina, zat is Costantina standing on ze bridge wif ze yellow +handkerchief on her head.' + +Constance looked at Costantina, and nodded and smiled. Then she laughed +out loud, a beautiful rippling, joyous laugh that rang through the grove +and silenced the chaffinches. + +Perhaps once upon a time Costantina was beautiful--beautiful as the +angels--but if so, it was long, long ago. Now she was old and fat, with a +hawk nose and a double chin and one tooth left in the middle of the +front. But if she were not beautiful, she was at least a cheerful old +soul, and, though she could not possibly know the reason, she echoed the +signorina's laugh until she nearly shook the clean clothes into the +water. + +Constance settled herself among the cushions and glanced back toward the +terrace. + +'Good afternoon,' she nodded politely to the young man. + +He bowed with his hand on his heart. + +'_Addio_, Gustavo.' + +He bowed until his napkin swept the ground. + +'_Addio_, Costantina,' she waved her hand toward her namesake. + +The washer-woman laughed again, and her earrings flashed in the sunlight. + +Giuseppe raised the yellow sail; they caught the breeze, and the +_Farfalla_ floated away. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Half-past six on Friday morning, and Constance appeared on the terrace; +Constance in fluffy, billowy, lacy white with a spray of oleander in her +belt--the last costume in the world in which one would start on a +mountain climb. She cast a glance in passing toward the gateway and the +stretch of road visible beyond, but both were empty, and seating herself +on the parapet, she turned her attention to the lake. The breeze that +blew from the farther shore brought fresh Alpine odours of flowers and +pine trees. Constance sniffed it eagerly as she gazed across toward the +purple outline of Monte Maggiore. The serenity of her smile gradually +gave place to doubt; she turned and glanced back toward the house, +visibly changing her mind. + +But before the change was finished, the quiet of the morning was broken +by a clatter of tiny scrambling obstinate hoofs and a series of +ejaculations, both Latin and English. She glanced toward the gate, where +Fidilini was visible, plainly determined not to come in. Constance +laughed expectantly and turned back to the water, her eyes intent on the +fishing-smacks that were putting out from the little _marino_. The sounds +of coercion increased; a command floated down the driveway in the English +tongue. It sounded like: 'You twist his tail, Beppo, while I pull.' + +Apparently it was understood in spite of Beppo's slight knowledge of the +language. An eloquent silence followed; then an outraged grunt on the +part of Fidilini, and the cavalcade advanced with a rush to the kitchen +door. Tony left Beppo and the donkeys, and crossed the terrace alone. His +bow swept the ground in the deferential manner of Gustavo, but his glance +was far bolder than a donkey-driver's should have been. She noted the +fact and tossed him a nod of marked condescension. A silence followed, +during which Constance studied the lake; when she turned back, she found +Tony arranging a spray of oleander that had dropped from her belt in the +band of his hat. She viewed this performance in silent disfavour. Having +finished to his satisfaction, he tossed the hat aside and seated himself +on the balustrade. Her frown became visible. Tony sprang to his feet with +an air of anxiety. + +'_Scusi_, signorina. I have not meant to be presumptious. Perhaps it is +not fitting that any one below the rank of lieutenant should sit in your +presence?' + +'It will not be very long, Tony, before you are discharged for +impertinence.' + +'Ah, signorina, do not say that! If it is your wish I will kneel when I +address you. My family, signorina, are poor; they need the four francs +which you so munificently pay.' + +'You told me that you were an orphan; that you had no family.' + +'I mean the family which I hope to have. Costantina has extravagant +tastes, and coral earrings cost two-fifty a pair.' + +Constance laughed and assumed a more lenient air. She made a slight +gesture which might be interpreted as an invitation to sit down; and Tony +accepted it. + +'By the way, Tony, how do you talk to Costantina, since she speaks no +English and you no Italian?' + +'We have no need of either Italian or English; the language of love, +signorina, is universal.' + +'Oh!' she laughed again. 'I was at the Hotel du Lac yesterday; I saw +Costantina.' + +'You saw Costantina!--Ah, signorina, is she not beautiful? Ze mos' +beautiful in all ze world? But ver' unkind, signorina. Yes, she laugh at +me; she smile at ozzer men, at soldiers wif uniforms.' He sighed +profoundly. 'But I love her just ze same, always from ze first moment I +see her. It was wash-day, signorina, by ze lac. I climb over ze wall and +talk wif her, but she make fun of me--ver' unkind. I go away ver' sad. No +use, I say, she like dose soldiers best. But I see her again; I hear her +laugh--it sound like angels singing--I say, no, I can not go away; I stay +here and make her love me. Yes, I do everysing she ask--but everysing! I +wear earrings; I make myself into a fool just to please zat Costantina.' + +He leaned forward and looked into her eyes. A slow red flush crept over +Constance's face, and she turned her head away and looked across the +water. + +Mr. Wilder, in full Alpine regalia, stepped out upon the terrace and +viewed the beauty of the morning with a prophetic eye. Miss Hazel +followed in his wake; she wore a lavender dimity. And suddenly it +occurred to Tony's slow moving masculine perception that neither +lavender dimity nor white muslin were fabrics fit for mountain climbing. + +Constance slipped down from her parapet and hurried to meet them. + +'Good morning, Aunt Hazel. Morning, Dad! You look beautiful! There's +nothing so becoming to a man as knickerbockers--especially if he's a +little stout.--You're late,' she added with a touch of severity. +'Breakfast has been waiting half an hour and Tony fifteen minutes.' + +She turned back toward the donkey-man, who was standing, hat in hand, +respectfully waiting orders. 'Oh, Tony, I forgot to tell you; we shall +not need Beppo and the donkeys to-day. You and my father are going +alone.' + +'You no want to climb Monte Maggiore--ver' beautiful mountain.' There was +disappointment, reproach, rebellion in his tone. + +'We have made inquiries and my aunt thinks it too long a trip. Without +the donkeys you can cross by boat, and that cuts off three miles.' + +'As you please, signorina.' He turned away. + +Constance looked after him with a shade of remorse. When this plan of +sending her father and Tony alone had occurred to her as she sailed +homeward yesterday from the Hotel du Lac, it had seemed a humorous and +fitting retribution. The young man had been just a trifle too sure of +her interest; the episode of the hotel register must not go unpunished. +But--it was a beautiful morning, a long empty day stretched before her, +and Monte Maggiore looked alluring; there was no pursuit, for the moment, +which she enjoyed as much as donkey-riding. Oh yes, she was spiting +herself as well as Tony; but considering the circumstances the sacrifice +seemed necessary. + +When the _Farfalla_ drifted up ready to take the mountain-climbers, Miss +Hazel suggested (Constance possessed to a large degree the diplomatic +faculty of making other people propose what she herself had decided on) +that she and her niece cross with them. Tony was sulky, and Constance +could not forgo the pleasure of baiting him further. + +They put in at the village, on their way, for the morning mail; Mr. +Wilder wished his paper, even at the risk of not beginning the ascent +before the sun was high. Giuseppe brought back from the post, among other +matters, a letter for Constance. The address was in a dashing, angular +hand that pretty thoroughly covered the envelope. Had she not been so +intent on the writing herself, she would have noted Tony's astonished +stare as he passed it to her. + +'Why!' she exclaimed, 'here's a letter from Nannie Hilliard, postmarked +Lucerne.' + +'Lucerne!' Miss Hazel echoed her surprise. 'I thought they were to be in +England for the summer?' + +'They were--the last I heard.' Constance ripped the letter open and read +it aloud. + + 'DEAR CONSTANCE: You'll doubtless be surprised to hear from us in + Switzerland instead of in England, and to learn further, that in + the course of a week, we shall arrive at Valedolmo _en route_ for + the Dolomites. Jerry Junior at the last moment decided to come with + us, and you know what a _man_ is when it comes to European travel. + Instead of taking two months comfortably to England, as Aunt Kate + and I had planned, we did the whole of the British Isles in ten + days, and Holland and France at the same breathless rate. + + 'Jerry says he holds the record for the Louvre; he struck a + six-mile pace at the entrance, and by looking neither to the right + nor the left he did the whole building in forty-three minutes. + + 'You can imagine the exhausted state Aunt Kate and I are in after + travelling five weeks with him. We simply struck in Switzerland and + sent him on to Italy alone. I had hoped he would meet us in + Valedolmo, but we have been detained here longer than we expected, + and now he's rushed off again--where to, goodness only knows; we + don't. + + 'Anyway, Aunt Kate and I shall land in Valedolmo about the end of + the week. I am dying to see you; I have some beautiful news that's + too complicated to write. We've engaged rooms at the Hotel du + Lac--I hope it's decent; it's the only place starred in Baedeker. + + 'Aunt Kate wishes to be remembered to your father and Miss Hazel. + + 'Yours ever, + 'NAN HILLIARD. + + 'P.S.--I'm awfully sorry not to bring Jerry; I know you'd adore + him.' + +She returned the letter to its envelope and looked up. + +'Now isn't that abominable?' she demanded. + +'Abominable!' Miss Hazel was scandalized. 'My dear, I think it's +delightful.' + +'Oh, yes--I mean about Jerry Junior; I've been trying for six years to +get hold of that man.' + +Tony behind them made a sudden movement that let out nearly a yard of +rope, and the _Farfalla_ listed heavily to starboard. + +'Tony!' Constance threw over her shoulder. 'Don't you know enough to sit +still when you are holding the sheet?' + +'_Scusi_,' he murmured. The sulky look had vanished from his face; he +wore an expression of alert attention. + +'Of course we shall have them at the villa,' said Miss Hazel. 'And we +shall have to get some new dishes. Elizabetta has already broken so many +plates that she has to stop and wash them between courses.' + +Constance looked dreamily across the lake; she appeared to be thinking. +'I wonder,' she inquired finally, 'if Jerry Junior knew we were here in +Valedolmo?' + +Her father emerged from the columns of his paper. + +'Of course he knew it, and having heard what a dangerous young person you +were, he said to himself, "I'd better keep out."' + +'I wish I knew. It would make the score against him considerably +heavier.' + +'So there is already a score? I hadn't supposed that the game had begun.' + +She nodded. + +'Six years ago--but he doesn't know it. Yes, Dad,' her tone was +melodramatic, 'for six years I've been waiting for Jerry Junior and +planning my revenge. And now, when I have him almost in my grasp, he +eludes me again!' + +'Dear me!' Mr. Wilder ejaculated. 'What did the young man do?' + +Had Constance turned she would have found Tony's face an interesting +study. But she knew well enough without looking at him that he was +listening to the conversation, and she determined to give him something +to listen to. It was a salutary thing for Tony to be kept in mind of the +fact that there were other men in the world. + +She sighed. + +'He was the first man I ever loved, father, and he spurned me. Do you +remember that Christmas when I was in boarding-school and you were called +South on business? I wanted to visit Nancy Long, but you wouldn't let me +because you didn't like her father; and you got Mrs. Jerymn Hilliard whom +I had never set eyes on to invite me there? I didn't want to go, and you +said I must, and was perfectly horrid about it?--you remember that?' + +Mr. Wilder grunted. + +'Yes, I see you do. And you remember how, with my usual sweetness, I +finally gave way? Well, Dad, you never knew the reason. The Yale Glee +Club came to Westfield that year just before the holidays began, and Miss +Jane let everybody go to the concert whose deportment had been above +eighty--that of course included me. + +'Well, we all went, and we all fell in love--in a body--with a sophomore +who played the banjo and sang negro songs. He had lovely dark +gazelle-like eyes, and he sang funny songs without smiling. The whole +school raved about him all the way home; we cut his picture out of the +programme and pasted in the front of our watches. His name, father'--she +paused dramatically--'was Jerymn Hilliard Junior!' + +'I sat up half the night writing diplomatic letters to you and Mrs. +Hilliard; and the next day when it got around that I was actually going +to visit in his house--well, I was the most popular girl in school. I was +sixteen years old then; I wore sailor suits and my hair was braided down +my back. Probably I did look young; and then Nannie, whom I was +supposedly visiting, was only fifteen. There were a lot of cousins in the +house besides all the little Hilliards, and what do you think? They made +the children eat in the school-room! I never saw him until Christmas +night; then when we were introduced, he shook my hand in a listless sort +of way, said "How d'y' do?" and forgot all about me. He went off with the +Glee Club the next day, and I only saw him once more. + +'We were playing blind man's buff in the school-room; I had just been +caught by the hair. It hurt and I was squealing. Everybody else was +clapping and laughing, when suddenly the door burst open and there stood +Jerry Junior! He looked straight at me and growled---- + +'"What are you kids making such an infernal racket about?"' + +She shut her eyes. + +'Aunt Hazel, Dad, just think. He was my first love. His picture was at +that moment in a locket around my neck. And he called me a _kid_!' + +'And you've never seen him since?' Miss Hazel's smile expressed amused +indulgence. + +Constance shook her head. + +'He's always been away when I've visited Nan--and for six years I've been +waiting.' She straightened up with an air of determination. 'But now, if +he's on the continent of Europe, I'll get him!' + +'And what shall you do with him?' her father mildly inquired. + +'Do with him? I'll make him take it back; I'll make him eat that word +kid!' + +'H'm!' said her father. 'I hope you'll get him; he might act as an +antidote to some of these officers.' + +They had run in under the shadow of the mountain and the keel grated on +the shore. Constance raised her eyes and studied the towering crag above +their heads; when she lowered them again, her gaze for an instant met +Tony's. There was a new light in his eyes--amusement, triumph, something +entirely baffling. He gave her the intangible feeling of having at last +got the mastery of the situation. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +The sun was setting behind Monte Maggiore, the fishing smacks were coming +home, Luigi had long since carried the tea things into the house; but +still the two callers lingered on the terrace of Villa Rosa. It was +Lieutenant di Ferara's place to go first since he had come first, and +Captain Coroloni doggedly held his post until such time as his junior +officer should see fit to take himself off. The captain knew, as well as +every one else at the officers' mess, that in the end the lieutenant +would be the favoured man; for he was a son of Count Guido di Ferara, of +Turin, and titles are at a premium in the American market. But still the +marriage contract was not signed yet, and the fact remained that the +captain had come last; accordingly he waited. + +They had been there fully two hours, and poor Miss Hazel was worn with +the strain. She sat nervously on the edge of her chair, and leaned +forward with clasped hands listening intently. It required very keen +attention to keep the run of either the captain's or the lieutenant's +English. A few days before she had laughed at what seemed to be a funny +story, and had later learned that it was an announcement of the death of +the lieutenant's grandmother. To-day she confined her answers to +inarticulate murmurs which might be interpreted as either assents or +negations as the case required. + +Constance, however, was buoyantly at her ease; she loved nothing better +than the excitement of a difficult situation. As she bridged over pauses, +and unobtrusively translated from the officer's English into real +English, she at the same time kept a watchful eye on the water. She had +her own reasons for wishing to detain the callers until her father's +return. + +Presently she saw, across the lake, a yellow sailboat float out from the +shadow of Monte Maggiore and head in a long tack toward Villa Rosa. With +this she gave up the task of keeping the conversation general; and +abandoning Captain Coroloni to her aunt, she strolled over to the terrace +parapet with Lieutenant di Ferara at her side. The picture they made was +a charming colour scheme. Constance wore white, the lieutenant pale blue; +an oleander tree beside them showed a cloud of pink blossoms, while +behind them for a background appeared the rose of the villa wall and the +deep green of cypresses against a sunset sky. The picture was +particularly effective as seen from the point of view of an approaching +boat. + +Constance broke off a spray of oleander, and while she listened to the +lieutenant's recountal of a practice march, she picked up his hat from +the balustrade and idly arranged the flowers in the vizor. He bent toward +her and said something; she responded with a laugh. They were both too +occupied to notice that the boat had floated close in shore, until the +flap of the falling sail announced its presence. Constance glanced up +with a start. She caught her father's eye fixed anxiously upon her; +whatever Gustavo and the officers' mess of the tenth cavalry might think, +he had not the slightest wish in the world to see his daughter the +Contessa di Ferara. Tony's face also wore an expression; he was sober, +disgusted, disdainful; there was a glint of anger and determination in +his eye. Constance hurried to the water-steps to greet her father. Of +Tony she took no manner of notice; if a man elects to be a donkey-driver, +he must swallow the insults that go with the part. + +The officers, observing that Luigi was hovering about the doorway waiting +to announce dinner, waived the question of precedence and made their +adieus. While Mr. Wilder and Miss Hazel were intent on the captain's +laboured farewell speech, the lieutenant crossed to Constance, who still +stood at the head of the water-steps. He murmured something in Italian as +he bowed over her hand and raised it to his lips. Constance blushed very +becomingly as she drew her hand away; she was aware, if the officer was +not, that Tony was standing beside them looking on. But as he raised his +eyes, he too became aware of it; the man's expression was more than +impertinent. The lieutenant stepped to his side and said something low +and rapid, something which should have made a right-minded donkey-driver +touch his hat and slink off. But Tony held his ground with a laugh which +was more impertinent than the stare had been. The lieutenant's face +flushed angrily, and his hand half instinctively went to his sword. +Constance stepped forward. + +'Tony! I shall have no further need of your services. You may go.' + +Tony suddenly came to his senses. + +'I--beg your pardon, Miss Wilder,' he stammered. + +'I shall not want you again; please go.' She turned her back and joined +the others. + +The two officers with final salutes took themselves off. Miss Hazel +hurried indoors to make ready for dinner; Mr. Wilder followed in her +wake, muttering something about finding the change to pay Tony. Constance +stood where they left her, staring at the pavement with hotly burning +cheeks. + +'Miss Wilder!' Tony crossed to her side; his manner was humble--actually +humble--the usual mocking undertone in his voice was missing. 'Really I'm +awfully sorry to have caused you annoyance; it was unpardonable.' + +Constance turned toward him. + +'Yes, Tony, I think it was. Your position does not give you the right to +insult my guests.' + +Tony stiffened slightly. + +'I acknowledge that I insulted him, and I'm sorry. But he insulted me, +for the matter of that. I didn't like the way he looked at me, any more +than he liked the way I looked at him.' + +'There is a certain deference, Tony, which an officer in the Royal +Italian Army has a right to expect from a donkey-driver.' + +Tony shrugged. + +'It is a difficult position to hold, Miss Wilder. A donkey-driver, I +find, plays the same accommodating role as the family watch-dog. You pat +him when you choose; you kick him when you choose; and he is supposed to +swallow both attentions with equal grace.' + +'You should have chosen another profession.' + +'Naturally, I was not flattered to find that your real reason for staying +at home to-day, was that you were expecting more entertaining callers.' + +'Is there any use in discussing it further? I am not going to climb any +more mountains, and I shall not, as I told you, need a donkey-man again.' + +'Then I'm discharged?' + +'If you wish to put it so. You must see for yourself that the play has +gone far enough. However, it has been amusing, and we will at least part +friends.' + +She held out her hand; it was a mark of definite dismissal rather than a +token of friendly forgiveness. + +Tony bowed over her hand in perfect mimicry of the lieutenant's manner. +'Signorina, _addio_!' He gravely raised it to his lips. + +She snatched her hand away quickly and without glancing at him turned +toward the house. He let her cross half the terrace, then he called +softly-- + +'Signorina!' + +She kept on without pausing. He took a quick step after. + +'Signorina, a moment!' + +She half turned. + +'Well?' + +'I beg of you--one little favour. There are two American ladies expected +at the Hotel du Lac and I thought--perhaps--would you mind writing me a +letter of recommendation?' + +Constance turned back without a word and walked into the house. + +Mr. Wilder's conversation at dinner that night was of the day's excursion +and Tony. He was elated, enthusiastic, glowing. Mountain-climbing was the +most interesting pursuit in the world; he would begin to-morrow and +exhaust the Alps. And as for Tony--his intelligence, his discretion, his +cleverness--there never had been such a guide. Constance listened +silently, her eyes on her plate. At another time it might have occurred +to her that her father's enthusiasm was excessive, but to-night she was +occupied with her thoughts, and she had no reason in the world to +suspect him of guile. She decided, however, to postpone the announcement +of Tony's dismissal; to-morrow mountain-climbing might look less +alluring. + +Dinner over, Mr. Wilder, with a tired if satisfied sigh, dropped into a +chair to finish his reading of the London _Times_. He no longer skimmed +his paper lightly as in the days when papers were to be had hot at any +hour. He read it carefully, painstakingly, from the first advertisement +to the last obituary; and he laid it down in the end with a disappointed +sigh that there were not more residential properties for hire, that the +day's death list was so meagre. + +Miss Hazel settled herself to her knitting. She was making a rainbow +shawl of seven colours and an intricate pattern, and she had to count her +stitches; conversation was impossible. Constance, vaguely restless, +picked up a book and laid it down, and finally sauntered out to the +terrace with no thought in the world but to see the moon rise over the +mountains. + +As she approached the parapet she became aware that some one was lounging +on the water-steps smoking a cigarette. The smoker rose politely but +ventured no remark. + +'Is that you, Giuseppe?' she asked in Italian. + +'No, signorina. It is I--Tony. I am waiting for orders.' + +'For orders!' There was astonishment as well as indignation in her tone. +'I thought I made it clear----' + +'That I was discharged? Yes, signorina. But I have been so fortunate as +to find another place. The Signor Papa has engage me. I go wif him; we +climb all ze mountain around.' He waved his hand largely to comprise the +whole landscape. 'I sink perhaps it is better so--for the Signor Papa and +me to go alone. Mountain-climbing is too hard; zere is too much fatigue, +signorina, for you.' + +He bowed humbly and deferentially, and retired to the steps and his +cigarette. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Half-past six on the following morning found Constance and her father +rising from the breakfast table, and Tony turning in at the gate. +Constance's nod of greeting was barely perceptible, and her father's eye +contained a twinkle as he watched her. Tony studied her mountain-climbing +costume with an air of concern. + +'You go wif us, signorina?' His expression was blended of surprise and +disapproval, but in spite of himself his tone was triumphant. 'You say to +me yesterday you no want to climb any more mountain.' + +'I have changed my mind.' + +'But zis mountain to-day too long, too high. You get tired, signorina. +Perhaps anozzer day we take li'l' baby mountain, zen you can go.' + +'I am going to-day.' + +'It is not possible, signorina. I have not brought ze donk'.' + +'Oh, I'm going to walk.' + +'As you please, signorina.' + +He sighed patiently. Then he looked up and caught her eye. They both +laughed. + +'Signorina,' he whispered, 'I ver' happy to-day. Zat Costantina she more +kind. Yesterday ver' unkind; I go home ver' sad. But to-day I sink----' + +'Yes?' + +'I sink after all maybe she like me li'l' bit.' + +Giuseppe rowed the three climbers a mile or so down the lake and set them +ashore at the base of their mountain. They started up gaily and had +accomplished half their journey before they thought of being tired. Tony +surpassed himself; if he had been entertaining the day before he was +doubly so now. His spirits were bubbling over and contagious. He and +Constance acted like two children out of school. They ran races and +talked to the peasants in the wayside cottages. They drove a herd of +goats for half a mile while the goatherd strolled behind and smoked +Tony's cigarettes. Constance took a water-jar from a little girl they +met coming from the fountain and endeavoured to balance it on her own +head, with the result that she nearly drowned both herself and the child. + +They finally stopped for luncheon in a grove of chestnut trees with sheep +nibbling on the hill-side below them and a shepherd boy somewhere out of +sight playing on a mouth organ. It should have been a flute, but they +were in a forgiving mood. Constance this time did her share of the work. +She and Tony together spread the cloth and made the coffee while her +father fanned himself and looked on. If Mr. Wilder had any unusual +thoughts in regard to the donkey-man, they were at least not reflected in +his face. + +When they had finished their meal Tony spread his coat under a tree. + +'Signorina,' he said, 'perhaps you li'l' tired? Look, I make nice place +to sleep. You lie down and rest while ze Signor Papa and me, we have +li'l' smoke. Zen after one, two hours I come call you.' + +Constance very willingly accepted the suggestion. They had walked five +uphill miles since morning. It was two hours later that she opened her +eyes to find Tony bending over her. She sat up and regarded him sternly. +He had the grace to blush. + +'Tony, did you kiss my hand?' + +'_Scusi_, signorina. I ver' sorry to wake you, but it is tree o'clock and +ze Signor Papa he say we must start just now or we nevair get to ze +top.' + +'Answer my question.' + +'Signorina, I cannot tell to you a lie. It is true, I forget I am just +poor donkey-man. I play li'l' game. You sleeping beauty; I am ze prince. +I come to wake you. Just _one_ kiss I drop on your hand--one ver' little +kiss, signorina.' + +Constance assumed an air of indignant reproof, but in the midst of it she +laughed. + +'I wish you wouldn't be so funny, Tony; I can't scold you as much as you +deserve. But I am angry just the same, and if anything like that ever +happens again I shall be very _very_ angry.' + +'Signorina, I would not make you very _very_ angry for anysing. As long +as I live nosing like zat shall happen again. No, nevair, I promise.' + +They plunged into a pine wood and climbed for another two hours, the +summit always vanishing before them like a mirage. At the end of that +time they were apparently no nearer their goal than when they had +started. They had followed first one path, then another, until they had +lost all sense of direction, and finally when they came to a place where +three paths diverged, they had to acknowledge themselves definitely lost. +Mr. Wilder elected one path, Tony another, and Constance sat down on a +rock. + +'I'm not going any farther,' she observed. + +'You can't stay here all night,' said her father. + +'Well, I can't walk over this mountain all night. We don't get anywhere; +we merely move in circles. I don't think much of the guide you engaged. +He doesn't know his way.' + +'He wasn't engaged to know his way,' Tony retorted. 'He was engaged to +wear earrings and sing Santa Lucia.' + +Constance continued to sit on her rock while Tony went forward on a +reconnoitring expedition. He returned in ten minutes with the information +that there was a shepherd's hut not very far off with a shepherd inside +who would like to be friendly. If the signorina would deign to ask some +questions in the Italian language which she spoke so fluently, they could +doubtless obtain directions as to the way home. + +They found the shepherd, the shepherdess and four little shepherds eating +their evening polenta in an earth-floored room, with half a dozen +chickens and the family pig gathered about them in an expectant group. +They rose politely and invited the travellers to enter. It was an event +in their simple lives when foreigners presented themselves at the door. + +Constance commenced amenities by announcing that she had been walking on +the mountain since sunrise and was starving. Did they by chance have any +fresh milk? + +'Starving! _Madonna mia_, how dreadful!' Madame held up her hands. But +yes, to be sure they had fresh milk. They kept four cows. That was their +business--turning milk into cheese and selling it on market day in the +village. Also they had some fresh mountain strawberries which Beppo had +gathered that morning--perhaps they too might be pleasing to the +signorina? + +Constance nodded affirmatively, and added, with her eyes on the pig, that +it might be pleasanter to eat outside where they could look at the view. +She became quite gay again over what she termed their afternoon +tea-party, and her father had to remind her most insistently that if they +wished to get down before darkness overtook them they must start at once. +An Italian twilight is short. They paid for the food and presented a lira +apiece to the children, leaving them silhouetted against the sky in a +bobbing row shouting musical farewells. + +Their host led them through the woods and out on to the brow of the +mountain in order to start them down by the right path. He regretted that +he could not go all the way, but the sheep had still to be brought in for +the night. At the parting he was garrulous with directions. + +The easiest way to get home now would be straight down the mountain to +Grotta del Monte--he pointed out the brown-tiled roofs of a village far +below them--there they could find donkeys or an ox-cart to take them +back. It was nine kilometres to Valedolmo. They had come quite out of +their way; if they had taken the right path in the morning they would +have reached the top, where the view was magnificent--truly magnificent. +It was a pity to miss it. Perhaps some other day they would like to come +again and he himself would be pleased to guide them. He shook hands and +wished them a pleasant journey. They would best hurry a trifle, he added, +for darkness came fast, and when one got caught on the mountain at +night--he shrugged his shoulders and looked at Tony--one needed a guide +who knew his business. + +They had walked for ten minutes when they heard some one shouting behind +and found a young man calling to them to wait. He caught up with them and +breathlessly explained. + +Pasquale had told him that they were foreigners from America who were +climbing the mountain for diversion and who had lost their way. He was +going down to the village himself and would be pleased to guide them. + +He fell into step beside Constance and commenced asking questions, while +Tony, as the path was narrow, perforce fell behind. Occasionally +Constance translated, but usually she laughed without translating, and +Tony, for the twentieth time, found himself hating the Italian language. + +The young man's question's were refreshingly ingenuous. He was curious +about America, since he was thinking, he said, of becoming an American +himself some day. He knew a man once who had gone to America to live and +had made a fortune there--but yes, a large fortune--ten thousand lire in +four years. Perhaps the signorina knew him--Giuseppe Motta; he lived in +Buenos Aires. And what did it look like--America? How was it different +from Italy? + +Constance described the sky-scrapers in New York. + +His wonder was intense. A building twenty stories high! _Dio mio_! He +should hate to mount himself up all those stairs. Were the buildings like +that in the country too? Did the shepherds live in houses twenty stories +high? + +'Oh no,' she laughed. 'In the country the houses are just like these, +only they are made of wood instead of stone.' + +'Of wood?' He opened his eyes. 'But, signorina, do they never burn?' + +He had another question to ask. He had been told--though of course he did +not believe it--that the Indians in America had red skins. + +Constance nodded yes. His eyes opened wider. + +'Truly red like your coat?' with a glance at her scarlet golf jacket. + +'Not quite,' she admitted. + +'But how it must be diverting,' he sighed, 'to travel the world over and +see different things.' He fell silent and trudged on beside her, the +wanderlust in his eyes. + +It was almost dark when they reached the big arched gateway that led into +the village. Here their ways parted and they paused for farewell. + +'Signorina,' the young man said suddenly, 'take me with you back to +America. I will prune your olive trees, I will tend your vines. You can +leave me in charge when you go on your travels.' + +She shook her head with a laugh. + +'But I have no vines; I have no olive trees. You would be homesick for +Italy.' + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +'Then good-bye. You, signorina, will go around the world and see many +sights, while I, for travel, shall ride on a donkey to Valedolmo.' + +He shook hands all around and with the grace of a prince accepted two of +Tony's cigarettes. His parting speech showed him a fatalist. + +'What will be, will be. There is a girl----' he waved his hand vaguely in +the direction of the village. 'If I go to America then I cannot stay +behind and marry Maria. So perhaps it is planned for the best. You will +find me, signorina, when next you come to Italy, still digging the ground +in Grotta del Monte.' + +As he swung away Tony glanced after him with a suggestion of malice, then +he transferred his gaze to the empty gateway. + +'I see no one else with whom you can talk Italian. Perhaps for ten +minutes you will deign to speak English with me?' + +'I am too tired to talk,' she threw over her shoulder as she followed her +father through the gate. + +They plunged into a tangle of tortuous paved streets, the houses pressing +each other as closely as if there were not all the outside world to +spread in. Grotta del Monte is built on a slope and its streets are in +reality long narrow flights of stairs all converging in the little +piazza. The moon was not yet up, and aside from an occasional flickering +light before a madonna's shrine, the way was black. + +'Signorina, take my arm. I'm afraid maybe you fall.' + +Tony's voice was humbly persuasive. Constance laughed and laid her hand +lightly on his arm. Tony dropped his own hand over hers and held her +firmly. Neither spoke until they came to the piazza. + +'Signorina,' he whispered, 'you make me ver' happy to-night.' + +She drew her hand away. + +'I'm tired, Tony. I'm not quite myself.' + +'No, signorina, yesterday I sink maybe you not yourself, but to-day you +ver' good, ver' kind--jus' your own self ze way you ought to be.' + +The piazza, after the dark, narrow streets that led to it, seemed +bubbling with life. The day's work was finished and the evening's play +had begun. In the centre, where a fountain splashed into a broad bowl, +groups of women and girls with copper water-jars were laughing and +gossiping as they waited their turns. One side of the square was flanked +by the imposing facade of a church with the village saint on a pedestal +in front; the other side, by a cheerfully inviting osteria with tables +and chairs set into the street and a glimpse inside of a blazing hearth +and copper kettles. + +Mr. Wilder headed in a straight line for the nearest chair and dropped +into it with an expression of permanence. Constance followed, and they +held a colloquy with a bowing host. He was vague as to the finding of +carriage or donkeys, but if they would accommodate themselves until after +supper there would be a diligence along which would take them back to +Valedolmo. + +'How soon will the diligence arrive?' asked Constance. + +The man spread out his hands. + +'It is due in three-quarters of an hour, but it may be early and it may +be late. It arrives when God and the driver wills.' + +'In that case,' she laughed, 'we will accommodate ourselves until after +supper--and we have appetites! Please bring everything you have.' + +They supped on _minestra_ and _fritto misto_ washed down with the red +wine of Grotta del Monte, which, their host assured them, was famous +through all the country. He could not believe that they had never heard +of it in Valedolmo. People sent for it from far off, even from Verona. + +They finished their supper and the famous wine, but there was still no +diligence. The village also had finished its supper and was drifting in +family groups into the piazza. The moon was just showing above the +house-tops, and its light, combined with the blazing braziers before the +cook-shops, made the square a patchwork of brilliant high-lights and +black shadows from deep-cut doorways. Constance sat up alertly and +watched the people crowding past. Across from the inn an itinerant show +had established itself on a rudely improvised stage, with two flaring +torches which threw their light half across the piazza, and turned the +spray of the fountain into an iridescent shower. The gaiety of the scene +was contagious. Constance rose insistently. + +'Come, Dad; let's go over and see what they're doing.' + +'No, thank you, my dear. I prefer my chair.' + +'Oh, Dad, you're so phlegmatic!' + +'But I thought you were tired.' + +'I'm not any more; I want to see the play.--You come then, Tony.' + +Tony rose with an elaborate sigh. + +'As you please, signorina,' he murmured obediently. An onlooker would +have thought Constance cruel in dragging him away from his well-earned +rest. + +They made their way across the piazza and mounted the church steps behind +the crowd where they could look across obliquely to the little stage. A +clown was dancing to the music of a hurdy-gurdy, while a woman in a +tawdry pink satin evening gown beat an accompaniment on a drum. It was a +very poor play with very poor players, and yet it represented to these +people of Grotta del Monte something of life, of the big outside world +which they in their little village would never see. Their upturned faces +touched by the moonlight and the flare of the torches contained a look of +wondering eagerness--the same look that had been in the eyes of the young +peasant when he had begged to be taken to America. + +The two stood back in the shadow of the doorway watching the people with +the same interest that the people were expending on the stage. A child +had been lifted to the base of the saint's pedestal in order to see, and +in the excitement of a duel between two clowns he suddenly lost his +balance and toppled off. His mother snatched him up quickly and +commenced covering the hurt arm with kisses to make it well. + +Constance laughed. + +'Isn't it queer,' she asked, 'to think how different these people are +from us and yet how exactly the same. Their way of living is absolutely +foreign, but their feelings are just like yours and mine.' + +He touched her arm and called her attention to a man and a girl on the +step below them. It was the young peasant again who had guided them down +the mountain, but who now had eyes for no one but Maria. She leaned +toward him to see the stage and his arm was around her. Their interest in +the play was purely a pretence, and both of them knew it. + +Tony laughed softly and echoed her words. + +'Yes, their feelings are just like yours and mine.' + +He slipped his arm around her. + +Constance drew back quickly. + +'I think,' she remarked, 'that the diligence has come.' + +'Oh, hang the diligence!' Tony growled. 'Why couldn't it have been five +minutes late?' + +They returned to the inn to find Mr. Wilder already on the front seat, +and obligingly holding the reins, while the driver occupied himself with +a glass of the famous wine. The diligence was a roomy affair of four +seats and three horses. Behind the driver were three Italians +gesticulating violently over local politics; a new _sindaco_ was +imminent. Behind these were three black-hooded nuns covertly interested +in the woman in the pink evening gown. And behind the three, occupying +the exact centre of the rear seat, was a fourth nun with the portly +bearing of a Mother Superior. She was very comfortable as she was, and +did not propose to move. Constance climbed up on one side of her and Tony +on the other. + +'We are well chaperoned,' he grumbled, as they jolted out of the piazza. +'I always did think that the Church interfered too much with the rights +of individuals.' + +Constance, in a spirit of friendly expansiveness, proceeded to pick up an +acquaintance with the nuns, and the four black heads were presently +bobbing in unison, while Tony, in gloomy isolation at his end of the +seat, folded his arms and stared at the road. The driver had passed +through many villages that day and had drunk many glasses of famous wine; +he cracked his whip and sang as he drove. They rattled in and out of +stone-paved villages, along open stretches of moonlit road, past villas +and olive groves. Children screamed after them, dogs barked, Constance +and her four nuns were very vivacious, and Tony's gloom deepened with +every mile. + +They had covered three-quarters of the distance when the diligence was +brought to a halt before a high stone wall and a solid barred gate. The +nuns came back to the present with an excited cackling. Who would believe +they had reached the convent so soon! They made their adieus and +ponderously descended, their departure accelerated by Tony who had become +of a sudden alertly helpful. As they started again he slid along into the +Mother Superior's empty seat. + +'What were we saying when the diligence interrupted?' he inquired. + +'I don't remember, Tony, but I don't want to talk any more; I'm tired.' + +'You tired, signorina? Lay your head on my shoulder and go to sleep.' + +'Tony, _please_ behave yourself. I'm simply too tired to make you do it.' + +He reached over and took her hand. She did not try to withdraw it for +two--three minutes; then she shot him a sidewise glance. 'Tony,' she +said, 'don't you think you are forgetting your place?' + +'No, signorina, I am just learning it.' + +'Let go my hand.' + +He gazed pensively at the moon and hummed Santa Lucia under his breath. + +'Tony! I shall be angry with you.' + +'I shall be ver' sorry for zat, signorina. I do not wish to make you +angry, but I sink--perhaps you get over it.' + +'You are behaving abominably to-day, Tony. I shall never stay alone with +you again.' + +'Signorina, look at zat moon up dere. Is it not ver' bright? When I look +at zat moon I have always beautiful toughts about how much I love +Costantina.' + +An interval followed during which neither spoke. The driver's song was +growing louder and the horses were galloping. The diligence suddenly +rounded a curved cliff on two wheels. Constance lurched against him; he +caught her and held her. Her lips were very near his; he kissed her +softly. + +She moved to the far end of the seat and faced him with flushed cheeks. +'I thought you were a gentleman!' + +'I used to be, signorina; now I am only poor donkey-man.' + +'I shall never speak to you again. You can climb as many mountains as you +wish with my father, but you can't have anything more to do with me.' + +'_Scusi_, signorina. I--I did not mean to. It was just an accident, +signorina.' + +Constance turned her back and stared at the road. + +'It was not my fault. Truly it was not my fault. I did not wish to kiss +you--no nevair. But I could not help it. You put your head too close.' + +She raised her eyes and studied the mountain-top. + +'Signorina, why you treat me so cruel?' + +Her back was inflexible. + +'I am desolate. If you forgive me zis once I will nevair again do a sing +so wicked. Nevair, nevair, nevair.' + +Constance continued her inspection of the mountain-top. Tony leaned +forward until he could see her face. + +'Signorina,' he whispered, 'jus' give me one li'l' smile to show me you +are not angry for ever.' + +The stage had stopped and Mr. Wilder was climbing down, but Constance's +gaze was still fixed on the sky, and Tony's eyes were on her. + +'What's the matter, Constance, have you gone to sleep? Aren't you going +to get out?' + +She came back with a start. + +'Are we here already?' + +There was a suspicion of regret in her tone which did not escape Tony. + +At the Villa Rosa gates he wished them a humbly deferential good night, +but with a smile hovering about the corners of his mouth. Constance made +no response. As he strode off, however, she turned her head and looked +after him. He turned too and caught her. He waved his hand with a laugh, +and took up his way, whistling Santa Lucia in double time. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Three days passed in which Mr. Wilder and Tony industriously climbed, and +in which nothing of consequence passed between Constance and Tony. If she +happened to be about when the expeditions either started or came to an +end (and for one reason or another she usually was) she ignored him +entirely; and he ignored her, except for an occasional mockingly +deferential bow. He appeared to extract as much pleasure from the +excursions as Mr. Wilder, and he asked for no extra compensation by the +way. + +It was Tuesday again, just a week and a day since the young American had +dropped over the wall of Villa Rosa asking for the garden of the prince. +Tony and Mr. Wilder were off on a trip; Miss Hazel and Constance on the +point of sitting down to afternoon tea--there were no guests to-day--when +the gardener from the Hotel du Lac appeared with a message from Nannie +Hilliard. She and her aunt had arrived half an hour before, which was a +good two days earlier than they were due. Constance read the note with a +clouded brow and silently passed it to Miss Hazel. The news was not so +entirely welcome as under other circumstances it would have been. Nannie +Hilliard was both perspicacious and fascinating, and Constance foresaw +that her presence would tangle further the already tangled plot of the +little comedy which was unfolding itself at Villa Rosa. But Miss Hazel, +divining nothing of comedies or plots, was thrown into a pleasant flutter +by the news. Guests were a luxury which occurred but seldom in the quiet +monotony of Valedolmo. + +'We must call on them at once and bring them back to the house.' + +'I suppose we must.' Constance agreed with an uncordial sigh. + +Fifteen minutes later they were on their way to the Hotel du Lac, while +Elizabetta, on her knees in the villa guest-room, was vigorously +scrubbing the mosaic floor. + +Gustavo hurried out to meet them. He was plainly in a flutter; something +had occurred to upset the usual suavity of his manners. + +'_Si_, signorina, in ze garden--ze two American ladies--having tea. And +you are acquaint wif ze family; all ze time you are acquaint wif zem, and +you never tell me!' There was mystification and reproach in his tone. +Constance eyed him with a degree of mystification on her side. + +'I am acquainted with a number of families that I have never told you +about,' she observed. + +'_Scusi_, signorina,' he stammered; and immediately, 'Tony, zat +donk'-man, what you do wif him?' + +'Oh, he and my father are climbing Monte Brione to-day.' + +'What time zay come home?' + +'About seven o'clock, I fancy. + +'Ze signora and ze signorina--zay come two days before zay are expect.' +And he was clearly aggrieved by the fact. + +Constance's mystification increased; she saw not the slightest connexion. + +'I suppose, Gustavo, you can find them something to eat even if they did +come two days before they were expected?' + +The two turned toward the arbour, but Constance paused for a moment and +glanced back with a shade of mischief in her eye. + +'By the way, Gustavo, that young man who taught the parrot English has +gone?' + +Gustavo rolled his eyes to the sky and back to her face. She understood +nothing; was there ever a muddle like this? + +'_Si_, signorina,' he murmured confusedly, 'ze yong man is gone.' + +Nannie caught sight of the visitors first, and with a start which nearly +upset the tea table, came running forward to meet them; while her aunt, +Mrs. Eustace, followed more placidly. Nannie was a big wholesome outdoor +girl of a purely American type. She waited for no greetings; she had news +to impart. + +'Constance, Miss Hazel! I'm so glad to see you--what do you think? I'm +engaged!' + +Miss Hazel murmured incoherent congratulations, and tried not to look as +shocked as she felt. In her day, no lady would have made so delicate an +announcement in any such off-hand manner as this. Constance received it +in the spirit in which it was given. + +'Who's the man?' she inquired, as she shook hands with Mrs. Eustace. + +'You don't know him--Harry Eastman, a friend of Jerry's. Jerry doesn't +know it yet, and I had to confide in some one. Oh, it's no secret; Harry +cabled home--he wanted to get it announced so I couldn't change my mind. +You see he only had a three weeks' vacation; he took a fast boat, landed +at Cherbourg, followed us the whole length of France, and caught us in +Lucerne just after Jerry had gone. I couldn't refuse him after he'd taken +such a lot of trouble. That's what detained us: we had expected to come a +week ago. And now----' by a rapid change of expression she became +tragic.--'We've lost Jerry Junior!' + +'Lost Jerry Junior!' Constance's tone was interested. 'What has become of +him?' + +'We haven't an idea. He's been spirited off--vanished from the earth and +left no trace. Really, we're beginning to be afraid he's been captured by +brigands. That head waiter, that Gustavo, knows where he is, but we can't +get a word out of him. He tells a different story every ten minutes. I +looked in the register to see if by chance he'd left an address there, +and what do you think I found?' + +'Oh!' said Constance; there was a world of illumination in her tone. +'What did you find?' she asked, hastily suppressing every emotion but +polite curiosity. + +'"Abraham Lincoln" in Jerry's hand-writing!' + +'Really!' Constance dimpled irrepressibly. 'You are sure Jerry wrote it?' + +'It was his writing; and I showed it to Gustavo, and what do you think he +said?' + +Constance shook her head. + +'He said that Jerry had forgotten to register, that that was written by a +Hungarian nobleman who was here last week--imagine a Hungarian nobleman +named Abraham Lincoln!' + +Constance dropped into one of the little iron chairs and bowed her head +on the back and laughed. + +'Perhaps you can explain?' There was a touch of sharpness in Nannie's +tone. + +'Don't ever ask me to explain anything Gustavo says; the man is not to be +believed under oath.' + +'But what's become of Jerry?' + +'Oh, he'll turn up.' Constance's tone was comforting. 'Aunt Hazel,' she +called. Miss Hazel and Mrs. Eustace, their heads together over the tea +table, were busily making up three months' dropped news. 'Do you +remember the young man I told you about who popped into our garden last +week? That was Jerry Junior!' + +'Then you've seen him?' said Nannie. + +Constance related the episode of the broken wall--the sequel she omitted. +'I hadn't seen him for six years,' she added apologetically, 'and I +didn't recognize him. Of course if I'd dreamed----' + +Nannie groaned. + +'And I thought I'd planned it so beautifully!' + +'Planned what?' + +'I suppose I might as well tell you since it's come to nothing. We +hoped--that is, you see--I've been so worried for fear Jerry----' She +took a breath and began again. 'You know, Constance, when it comes to +getting married, a man has no more sense than a two-year child. So I +determined to pick out a wife for Jerry, myself, one I would like to have +for a sister. I've done it three times and he simply wouldn't look at +them; you can't imagine how stubborn he is. But when I found we were +coming to Valedolmo, I said to myself, now this is my opportunity; I will +have him marry Connie Wilder.' + +'You might have asked my permission.' + +'Oh, well, Jerry's a dear; next to Harry you couldn't find any one nicer. +But I knew the only way was not to let him suspect. I thought, you see, +that you were still staying at the hotel; I didn't know you'd taken a +villa, so I planned for him to come to meet us three days before we +really expected to get here. I thought in the meantime, being stranded +together in a little hotel, you'd surely get acquainted--Jerry's very +resourceful that way--and with all this beautiful Italian scenery about, +and nothing to do----' + +'I see!' Constance's tone was somewhat dry. + +'But nothing happened as I had planned. You weren't here, he was bored to +death, and I was detained longer than I meant. We got the most pathetic +letter from him the second day, saying there was no one but the head +waiter to talk to, nothing but an india-rubber tree to look at, and if we +didn't come immediately, he'd do the Dolomites without us. Then finally, +just as we were on the point of leaving, he sent a telegram saying: +"Don't come. Am climbing mountains. Stay there till you hear from me." +But being already packed, we came, and this is what we find----' She +waved her hand over the empty grove. + +'It serves you right; you shouldn't deceive people.' + +'It was for Jerry's good--and yours too. But what shall we do? He doesn't +know we're here and he has left no address.' + +'Come out to the villa and visit us till he comes to search for you.' + +Constance could hear her aunt delivering the same invitation to Mrs. +Eustace, and she perforce repeated it, though with the inward hope that +it would be declined. She had no wish that Tony and her father should +return from their trip to find a family party assembled on the terrace. +The adventure was not to end with any such tame climax as that. To her +relief they did decline, at least for the night; they could make no +definite plans until they had heard from Jerry. Constance rose upon this +assurance and precipitated their leave-takings; she did not wish her aunt +to press them to change their minds. + +'Good-bye, Mrs. Eustace, good-bye, Nannie; we'll be around to-night to +take you sailing--provided there's any breeze.' + +She nodded and dragged her aunt off; but as they were entering the arbour +a plan for further complicating matters popped into her head, and she +turned back to call-- + +'You are coming to the villa to-morrow, remember, whether Jerry Junior +turns up or not. I'll write a note and invite him too--Gustavo can give +it to him when he comes, and you needn't bother any more about him.' + +They found Gustavo hovering omnivorously in the courtyard, hungering for +news; Constance summoned him to her side. + +'Gustavo, I am going to send you a note to-night for Mr. Jerymn Hilliard. +You will see that it gets to him as soon as he arrives?' + +'Meestair Jayreem Ailyar?' Gustavo stared. + +'Yes, the brother of the signorina who came to-day. He is expected +to-morrow or perhaps the day after.' + +'_Scusi_, signorina. You--you acquaint wif him?' + +'Yes, certainly. I have known him for six years. Don't forget to deliver +the note; it's important.' + +They raised their parasols and departed, while Gustavo stood in the +gateway bowing. The motion was purely mechanical; his thoughts were +labouring elsewhere. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Constance occupied herself upon their return to Villa Rosa in writing the +letter to Jerry Junior. It had occurred to her that this was an excellent +chance to punish him, and it was the working philosophy of her life that +a man should always be punished when opportunity presented. Tony had been +entirely too unconcerned during the past few days; he needed a lesson. +She spent three-quarters of an hour in composing her letter, and tore up +two false starts before she was satisfied. It did not contain the +slightest hint that she knew the truth, and--considered in this light--it +was likely to have a chastening effect. The letter ran-- + + 'VILLA ROSA, VALEDOLMO, + 'LAGO DI GARDA. + + 'DEAR JERRY JUNIOR: I hope you don't mind being called "Jerry + Junior," but "Mr. Hilliard" sounds so absurdly formal, when I have + known your sister so long and so well. We are spending the summer + here in Valedolmo, and Mrs. Eustace and Nannie have promised to + stop with us for a few days, provided you can be persuaded to pause + in your mad rush through Europe. Now please take pity on us--guests + are such unusual luxuries, and as for _men_! Besides a passing + tourist or so, we have had nothing but Italian officers. You can + climb mountains with my father--Nan says you are a climber--and we + can supply mountains enough to keep you occupied for a month. + + 'My father would write himself, only that he is climbing this + moment. + + 'Yours most cordially, + 'CONSTANCE WILDER.' + + 'P.S.--I forgot to mention that we are acquainted already, you and + I. We met six years ago, and you insulted me--under your own roof. + You called me a _kid_. I shall accept nothing but a personal + apology.' + +Having read it critically, she sealed and addressed it with malicious +delight; it was calculated to arouse just about the emotions she would +like to have Tony entertain. She gave the note to Giuseppe with +instructions to place it in Gustavo's hands, and then settled herself +gaily to await results. + +Giuseppe was barely out of sight when the two Alpine climbers appeared at +the gate. Constance had been wondering how she could inform Tony that his +aunt and sister had arrived, without unbending from the dignified silence +of the past three days. The obvious method was to announce it to her +father in Tony's presence, but her father slipped into the house by the +back way without affording her an opportunity. It was Tony himself who +solved the difficulty. Of his own accord he crossed the terrace and +approached her side. He laid a bunch of edelweiss on the balustrade. + +'It's a peace offering,' he observed. + +She looked at him a moment without speaking. There was a new expression +in her eyes that puzzled Tony, just as the expression in his eyes that +morning on the water had puzzled her. She was studying him in the light +of Jerry Junior. The likeness to the sophomore who six years before sang +the funny songs without a smile, was so very striking, she wondered she +could ever have overlooked it. + +'Thank you, Tony; it is very nice of you.' She picked up the flowers and +smiled--with the knowledge of the letter that was waiting for him she +could afford to be forgiving. + +'You discharged me, signorina; will you take me back into your service?' + +'I am not going to climb any more mountains; it is too fatiguing. I think +it is better for you and my father to go alone.' + +'I will serve you in other ways.' + +Constance studied the mountains a moment. Should she tell him she knew, +or should she keep up the pretence a little longer? Her insatiable love +of intrigue won. + +'Are you sure you wish to be taken back?' + +'_Si_, signorina, I am very sure.' + +'Then perhaps you will do me a favour on your way home to-night?' + +'You have but to ask.' + +'I wish to send a message to a young American man who is staying at the +Hotel du Lac--you may have seen him?' + +Tony nodded. + +'I have climb Monte Maggiore wif him. You recommend me; I sank you ver' +moch. Nice man, zat yong American; ver' good, ver' simpatico.' He leaned +forward with a sudden air of anxiety. 'Signorina, you--you like zat yong +man?' + +'I have only met him twice, but--yes, I like him.' + +'You like him better zan me?' His anxiety deepened; he hung upon her +word. + +She shook her head reassuringly. + +'I like you both exactly the same.' + +'Signorina, which you like better, zat yong American or ze Signor +Lieutenant?' + +'Your questions are getting too personal, Tony.' + +He folded his arms and sighed. + +'Will you deliver my message?' + +'_Si_, signorina, wif pleasure.' There was not a trace of curiosity in +his expression, nothing beyond a deferential desire to serve. + +'Tell him, Tony, that Miss Wilder will be at home to-morrow afternoon at +tea-time; if he will come by the gate and present a card she will be most +pleased to see him. She wishes him to meet an American friend, a Miss +Hilliard, who has just arrived at the hotel this afternoon.' + +She watched him sharply; his expression did not alter by a shade. He +repeated the message and then added as if by the merest chance-- + +'Ze yong American man, signorina--you know his name?' + +'Yes, I know his name.' This time for the fraction of a second she +surprised a look. 'His name'--she hesitated tantalizingly--'is Signor +Abraham Lincoln.' + +'Signor Ab-ra-ham Lin-coln.' He repeated it after her as if committing it +to memory. They gazed at each other soberly a moment; then both laughed +and looked away. + +Luigi had appeared in the doorway. Seeing no one more important than Tony +about, he found no reason for delaying the announcement of dinner. + +'_Il pranzo e sulla tavola, signorina._' + +'_Bene_!' said Constance over her shoulder. She turned back to Tony; her +manner was kind. 'If you go to the kitchen, Tony, Elizabetta will give +you some dinner.' + +'Sank you, signorina.' His manner was humble. 'Elizabetta's dinners +consist of a plate of garlic and macaroni on the kitchen steps. I don't +like garlic and I'm tired of macaroni; if it's just the same to you, I +think I'll dine at home.' He held out his hand. + +She read his purpose in his eye and put her own hands behind her. + +'You won't shake hands, signorina? We are not friends?' + +'I learned a lesson the last time.' + +'You shake hands wif Lieutenant Count Carlo di Ferara.' + +'It is the custom in Italy.' + +'We are in Italy.' + +'Behave yourself, Tony, and run along home!' + +She laughed and nodded and turned away. On the steps she paused to add-- + +'Be sure not to forget the message for Signor Abraham Lincoln. I shall be +disappointed if he doesn't come.' + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Tony returned to the Hotel du Lac, modestly, by the back way. He +assured himself that his aunt and sister were well by means of an open +window in the rear of the dining-room. The window was shaded by a clump +of camellias, and he studied at his ease the back of Mrs. Eustace's +head and Nannie's vivacious profile as she talked in fluent and +execrable German to the two Alpinists who were, at the moment, the only +other guests. Brotherly affection--and a humorous desire to create a +sensation--prompted him to walk in and surprise them. But saner second +thoughts prevailed; he decided to postpone the reunion until he should +have changed from the picturesque costume of Tony to the soberer garb of +Jerry Junior. He skirted the dining-room by a wide detour, and entered +the courtyard at the side. Gustavo, who for the last hour and a half had +been alertly watchful of four entrances at once, pounced upon him and +drew him to a corner. + +'Signore,' in a conspiratorial whisper, 'zay are come, ze aunt and ze +sister.' + +'I know--the Signorina Costantina told me so.' + +Gustavo blinked. + +'But, signore, she does not know it.' + +'Yes, she does--she saw 'em herself.' + +'I mean, signore, she does not know zat you are ze brover?' + +'Oh, no, she doesn't know that.' + +'But she tell me zat she is acquaint wif ze brover for six years.' He +shook his head hopelessly. + +'That's all right.' Tony patted his shoulder reassuringly. 'When she knew +me I used to have yellow hair, but I thought it made me look too girlish, +so I had it dyed black. She didn't recognize me.' + +Gustavo accepted the explanation with a side-glance at the hair. + +'Now, pay attention.' Tony's tone was slow and distinct. + +'I am going upstairs to change my clothes. Then I will slip out the back +way with a suit-case, and go down the road and meet the omnibus as it +comes back from the boat landing. You keep my aunt and sister in the +courtyard talking to the parrot or something until the omnibus arrives. +Then when I get out, you come forward with your politest bow and ask me +if I want a room. I'll attend to the rest--do you understand?' + +Gustavo nodded with glistening eyes. He had always felt stirring within +him powers for diplomacy, for finesse, and he rose to the occasion +magnificently. + +Tony turned away and went bounding upstairs two steps at a time, +chuckling as he went. He, too, was developing an undreamed of appetite +for intrigue, and his capacity in that direction was expanding to meet +it. He had covered the first flight, when Gustavo suddenly remembered the +letter and bounded after. + +'Signore! I beg of you to wait one moment. Here is a letter from ze +signorina; it is come while you are away.' + +Tony read the address with a start of surprise. + +'Then she knows!' There was regret, disillusionment, in his tone. + +It was Gustavo's turn to furnish enlightenment. + +'But no, signore, she do not comprehend. She sink Meestair Jayreem Ailyar +is ze brover who is not arrive. She leave it for him when he come.' + +'Ah!' Tony ripped it open and read it through with a chuckle. He read it +a second time and his face grew grave. He thrust it into his pocket and +strode away without a word for Gustavo. Gustavo looked after him +reproachfully. As a head waiter, he naturally did not expect to read the +letters of guests; but as a fellow conspirator, he felt that he was +entitled to at least a general knowledge of all matters bearing on the +conspiracy. He turned back downstairs with a disappointed droop to his +shoulders. + +Tony closed his door and walked to the window, where he stood staring at +the roof of Villa Rosa. He drew the letter from his pocket and read it +for the third time slowly, thoughtfully, very, very soberly. The reason +was clear; she was tired of Tony and was looking ahead for fresh worlds +to conquer. Jerry Junior was to come next. + +He understood why she had been so complaisant to-day. She wished the +curtain to go down on the comedy note. To-morrow, the nameless young +American, the 'Abraham Lincoln' of the register, would call--by the +gate--would be received graciously, introduced in his proper person to +the guests; the story of the donkey-man would be recounted and laughed +over, and he would be politely asked when he was planning to resume his +travels. This would be the end of the episode. To Constance, it had been +merely an amusing farce about which she could boast when she returned to +America. In her vivacious style it would make a story, just as her first +meeting with Jerry Junior had made a story. But as for the play itself, +for _him_, she cared nothing. Tony the man had made no impression. He +must pass on and give place to Jerry Junior. + +A flush crept over Tony's face and his mouth took a straighter line as he +continued to gaze down on the roof of Villa Rosa. His reflections were +presently interrupted by a knock. He turned and threw the door open with +a fling. + +'Well?' he inquired. + +Gustavo took a step backward. + +'_Scusi_, signore, but zay are eating ze dessart and in five--ten minutes +ze omnibus will arrive.' + +'The omnibus?' Tony stared. 'Oh!' he laughed shortly. 'I was just joking, +Gustavo.' + +Gustavo bowed and turned down the corridor; there was a look on Tony's +face that did not encourage confidences. He had not gone half a dozen +steps, however, when the door opened again and Tony called him back. + +'I am going away to-morrow morning--by the first boat this time--and you +mustn't let my aunt and sister know. I will write two letters and you are +to take them down to the steward of the boat that leaves to-night. Ask +him to put on Austrian stamps and mail them at Riva, so they'll get back +here to-morrow. Do you understand?' + +Gustavo nodded and backed away. His disappointment this time was too keen +for words. He saw stretching before him a future like the past, +monotonously bereft of plots and masquerades. + +Tony, having hit on a plan, sat down and put it into instant execution. +Opening his Baedeker, he turned to Riva and picked out the first hotel +that was mentioned. Then he wrote two letters, both short and to the +point; he indulged in none of Constance's vacillations, and yet in their +way his letters also were masterpieces of illusion. The first was +addressed to Miss Constance Wilder at Villa Rosa. It ran-- + + 'HOTEL SOLE D'ORO, + 'RIVA, AUSTRIA. + + 'DEAR MISS WILDER: Nothing would give me greater pleasure than + spending a few days in Valedolmo, but unfortunately I am pressed + for time, and am engaged to start Thursday morning with some + friends on a trip through the Dolomites. + + 'Trusting that I may have the pleasure of making your acquaintance + at some future date, + + 'Yours truly, + 'JERYMN HILLIARD, JR.' + +The second letter was addressed to his sister, but he trusted to luck +that Constance would see it. It ran-- + + 'HOTEL SOLE D'ORO, + 'RIVA, AUSTRIA. + + 'DEAR NAN: Who in thunder is Constance Wilder? She wants us to stop + and make a visit in Valedolmo. I wouldn't step into that infernal + town, not if the king himself invited me--it's the deadest hole on + the face of the earth. You can stay if you like and I'll go on + through the Dolomites alone. There's an American family stopping + here who are also planning the trip--a stunning girl; I know you'd + like her. + + 'Of course the travelling will be pretty rough. Perhaps you and + Aunt Kate would rather visit your friends and meet me later in + Munich. If you decide to take the trip, you will have to come on + down to Riva as soon as you get this letter, as we're planning to + pull out Thursday morning. + + 'Sorry to hurry you, but you know my vacation doesn't last for + ever. + + 'Love to Aunt Kate and yourself, + + 'Yours ever, + 'JERRY.' + +He turned the letters over to Gustavo with a five-franc note, leaving +Gustavo to decide with his own conscience whether the money was intended +for himself or the steward of the _Regina Margarita_. This accomplished, +he slipped out unobtrusively and took the road toward Villa Rosa. + +He strode along with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the path +until he nearly bumped his nose against the villa gate-post. Then he +stopped and thought. He had no mind to be ushered to the terrace, where +he would have to dissemble some excuse for his visit before Miss Hazel +and Mr. Wilder. His business to-night was with Constance, and Constance +alone. He turned and skirted the villa wall, determined on reconnoitring +first. There was a place in the wall--he knew well--where the stones were +missing, and a view was obtainable of the terrace and parapet. + +He reached the place to find Lieutenant Carlo di Ferara already there. +Now the Lieutenant's purpose was exactly as innocent as Tony's own; he +merely wished to assure himself that Captain Coroloni was not before him. +It was considered a joke at the tenth cavalry mess to detail one or the +other of the officers to call on the Americans at the same time that +Lieutenant di Ferara called. He was not spying on the family, merely on +his meddling brother officers. + +Tony of course could know nothing of this, and as his eyes fell upon the +lieutenant, there was apparent in their depths a large measure of +contempt. A lieutenant in the Royal Italian Cavalry can afford to be +generous in many things, but he cannot afford to swallow contempt from a +donkey-driver. The signorina was not present this time; there was no +reason why he should not punish the fellow. He dropped his hand on Tony's +shoulder--on his collar to be exact--and whirled him about. The action +was accompanied by some vigorous colloquial Italian--the gist of it being +that Tony was to mind his own business and mend his manners. The +lieutenant had a muscular arm, and Tony turned. But Tony had not played +quarterback four years for nothing; he tackled low, and the next moment +the lieutenant was rolling down the bank of a dried stream that stretched +at their feet. No one likes to roll down a dusty stony bank, much less an +officer in immaculate uniform on the eve of paying a formal call upon +ladies. He picked himself up and looked at Tony; he was quite beyond +speech. + +Tony looked back and smiled. He swept off his hat with a deferential bow. +'_Scusi_,' he murmured, and jumped over the wall into the grounds of +Villa Rosa. + +The lieutenant gasped. If anything could have been more insultingly +inadequate to the situation than that one word _Scusi_, it did not at the +moment occur to him. Jeering, blasphemy, vituperation, he might have +excused, but this! The shock jostled him back to a thinking state. + +Here was no ordinary donkey-driver. The hand that had rested for a +moment on his arm was the hand of a gentleman. The man's face was +vaguely, elusively familiar; if the lieutenant had not seen him before, +he had at least seen his picture. The man had pretended he could not talk +Italian, but--_Scusi_--it came out very pat when it was needed. + +An idea suddenly assailed Lieutenant di Ferara. He scrambled up the bank +and skirted the wall, almost on a run, until he reached the place where +his horse was tied. Two minutes later he was off at a gallop, headed for +the house of the prefect of police of Valedolmo. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Tony jumped over the wall. He might have landed in the midst of a family +party; but in so much luck was with him. He found the _Farfalla_ bobbing +at the foot of the water-steps with Mr. Wilder and Miss Hazel already +embarked. They were waiting for Constance, who had obligingly run back to +the house to fetch the rainbow shawl (finished that afternoon) as Miss +Hazel distrusted the Italian night breeze. + +Constance stepped out from the door as Tony emerged from the bushes. She +regarded him in startled surprise; he was still in some slight disarray +from his encounter with the lieutenant. + +'May I speak to you, Miss Wilder? I won't detain you but a moment.' + +She nodded and kept on, her heart thumping absurdly. He had received the +letter, of course; and there would be consequences. She paused at the top +of the water-steps. + +'You go on,' she called to the others, and pick me up on your way back. +Tony wants to see me about something, and I don't like to keep Mrs. +Eustace and Nannie waiting.' + +Giuseppe pushed off and Constance was left standing alone on the +water-steps. She turned as Tony approached; there was a touch of defiance +in her manner. + +'Well?' + +He came to her side and leaned carelessly against the parapet, his eyes +on the _Farfalla_ as she tossed and dipped in the wash of the _Regina +Margarita_ which was just puffing out from the village landing. Constance +watched him, slightly taken aback; she had expected him to be angry, +sulky, reproachful--certainly not nonchalant. When he finally brought his +eyes from the water, his expression was mildly melancholy. + +'Signorina, I have come to say good-bye. It is very sad, but to-morrow, I +too'--he waved his hand toward the steamer--'shall be a passenger.' + +'You are going away from Valedolmo?' + +He nodded. + +'Unfortunately, yes. I should like to stay, but'--he shrugged--'life +isn't all play, Miss Wilder. Though one would like to be a donkey-man for +ever, one only may be for a summer's holiday. I am your debtor for a +unique and pleasant experience.' + +She studied his face without speaking. Did it mean that he had got the +letter and was hurt, or did it perhaps mean that he had got the letter +and did not care to appear as Jerry Junior? That he enjoyed the play so +long as he could remain incognito and stop it where he pleased, but that +he had no mind to let it drift into reality? Very possibly it meant--she +flushed at the thought--that he divined Nannie's plot, and refused also +to consider the fourth candidate. + +She laughed and dropped into their usual jargon. + +'And the young American man, Signor Abraham Lincoln, will he come +to-morrow for tea?' + +'Ah, signorina, he is desolated, but it is not possible. He has received +a letter and he must go; he has stopped too long in Valedolmo. To-morrow +morning early, he and I togever, we sail away to Austria.' + +His eyes went back to the trail of smoke left by the little steamer. + +'And Costantina, Tony. You are leaving her behind?' It took some courage +to put this question, but she did not flinch; she put it with a laugh +which contained nothing but raillery. + +Tony sighed--a deep melodramatic sigh--and laid his hand on his heart. + +'Ah, signorina, zat Costantina, she has not any heart. She love one man +one day, anozzer ze next. I go away to forget.' + +His eyes dropped to hers; for an instant the mocking light died out; a +questioning wounded look took its place. + +She felt a quick impulse to hold out her hands, to say, 'Jerry, don't go! +'If she only knew! Was he going because he thought that she wished to +dismiss him, or because he wished to dismiss himself? Was it pique that +bade him carry the play to the end, or was it merely the desire to get +out of an awkward situation gracefully? + +She stood hesitating, scanning the terrace pavement with troubled eyes; +when she raised them to his face the chance was gone. He straightened his +shoulders with an air of finality and picked up his hat from the +balustrade. + +'Some day, signorina, in New York, perhaps I play a little tune underneaf +your window.' + +She nodded and smiled. + +'I will give the monkey a penny when he comes--good-bye.' + +He bowed over her hand and touched it lightly to his lips. + +'Signorina, _addio_!' + +As he strode away into the dusky lane of cypresses, she heard him +whistling softly 'Santa Lucia.' It was the last stroke, she reflected +angrily; he might at least have omitted that! She turned away and dropped +down on the water-steps to wait for the _Farfalla_. The terrace, the +lake, the beautiful Italian night, suddenly seemed deserted and empty. +Before she knew it was coming, she had leaned her head against the +balustrade with a deep sob. She caught herself sharply. She to sit there +crying, while Tony went whistling on his way! + + * * * * * + +As the _Farfalla_ drifted idly over the water, Constance sat in the +stern, her chin in her hand, moodily gazing at the shimmering path of +moonlight. But no one appeared to notice her silence, since Nannie was +talking enough for both. And the only thing she talked about was Jerry +Junior, how funny and clever and charming he was, how phenomenally +good--for a man; when she showed signs of stopping, Mr. Wilder by a +question started her on. It seemed to Constance an interminable two hours +before they dropped their guests in the garden of the Hotel du Lac, and +headed again for Villa Rosa. + +As they approached their own water-steps it became apparent that some +one--a man--was standing at the top in an attitude of expectancy. +Constance's heart gave a sudden bound and the next instant sank deep. A +babble of frenzied greetings floated out to meet them; there was no +mistaking Gustavo. Moreover, there was no mistaking the fact that he was +excited; his excitement was contagious even before they had learned the +reason. He stuttered in his impatience to share the news. + +'Signore! _Dio mio_! A calamity has happened. Zat Tony, zat donk'-man! he +has got hisself arrested. Zay say it is a lie, zat he is American +citizen; he is an officer who is dessert from ze Italian army. Zay say he +just pretend he cannot spik Italian--but it is not true. He know +ten--leven words.' + +They came hurrying up the steps and surrounded him, Mr. Wilder no less +shocked than Gustavo himself. + +'Arrested--as a deserter? It's an outrage!' he thundered. + +Constance laid her hand on Gustavo's sleeve and whirled him about. + +'What do you mean? I don't understand. Where is Tony?' + +Gustavo groaned. + +'In jail, signorina. Four carabinieri are come to take him away. And he +fight--_Dio mio_! he fight like ze devil. But zay put--' he indicated +handcuffs--'and he go.' + +Constance dropped down on the upper step, and leaning her head against +the balustrade, she laughed until she was weak. + +Her father whirled upon her indignantly. + +'Constance! Haven't you any sympathy for the man? This isn't a laughing +matter.' + +'I know, Dad, but it's so funny--Tony an Italian officer! He can't +pronounce the ten--'leven words he does know right.' + +'Of course he can't; he doesn't know as much Italian as I do. Can't these +fools tell an American citizen when they see one? I'll teach 'em to go +about chucking American citizens in jail. I'll telegraph the consul in +Milan; I'll make an international matter of it!' + +He fumed up and down the terrace, while Constance rose to her feet and +followed after with a pretence at pacification. + +'Hush, Dad! Don't be so excitable. It was a very natural mistake for them +to make. But if Tony is really what he says he is it will be very easily +proved. You must be sure of your ground, though, before you act. I don't +like to say anything against poor Tony now that he is in trouble, but I +have always felt that there was a mystery connected with him. For all we +know he may be a murderer or a brigand or an escaped convict in disguise. +We only have his word, you know, that he is an American citizen.' + +'His word!' Mr. Wilder fairly exploded. 'Are you utterly blind? He's +exactly as much an American citizen as I am. He's----' He stopped and +fanned himself furiously. He had sworn never to betray Tony's secret, and +yet, the present situation was exceptional. + +Constance patted him on the arm. 'There, Dad. I haven't a doubt his story +is true. He was born in Budapest, and he's a naturalized American +citizen. It's the duty of the United States Government to protect +him--but it won't be difficult; I dare say he's got his naturalization +papers with him. A word in the morning will set everything straight.' + +'Leave him in jail all night?' + +'But you can't do anything now; it's after ten o'clock; the authorities +have gone to bed.' + +She turned to Gustavo; her tone was reassuring. + +'In the morning we'll get some American warships to bombard the jail.' + +'Signorina, you joke!' His tone was reproachful. + +She suddenly looked anxious. 'Gustavo, is the jail strong?' + +'Ver' strong, signorina.' + +'He can't escape and get over into Austria? We are very near the +frontier, you know.' + +'No, signorina, it is impossible.' He shook his head hopelessly. + +Constance laughed and slipped her hand through her father's arm. + +'Come, Dad. The first thing in the morning we'll go down to the jail and +cheer him up. There's not the slightest use in worrying any more +to-night. It won't hurt Tony to be kept in--er--cold storage for a few +hours--I think on the whole it will do him good!' + +She nodded dismissal to Gustavo, and drew her father, still muttering, +toward the house. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +Jerry Junior's letter of regret arrived from Riva on the early mail. In +the light of Constance's effusively cordial invitation, the terse +formality of his reply was little short of rude; but Constance read +between the lines and was appeased. The writer, plainly, was angry, and +anger was a much more becoming emotion than nonchalance. As she set out +with her father toward the village jail, she was again buoyantly in +command of the situation. She carried a bunch of oleanders, and the pink +and white egg basket swung from her arm. Their way led past the gate of +the Hotel du Lac, and Mr. Wilder, being under the impression that he was +enjoying a very good joke all by himself, could not forgo the temptation +of stopping to inquire if Mrs. Eustace and Nannie had heard any news of +the prodigal. They found the two at breakfast in the courtyard, an open +letter spread before them. Nannie received them with lamentations. + +'We can't come to the villa! Here's a letter from Jerry wanting us to +start immediately for the Dolomites--did you ever know anything so +exasperating?' + +She passed the letter to Constance, and then as she remembered the first +sentence, made a hasty attempt to draw it back. It was too late; +Constance's eyes had already pounced upon it. She read it aloud with +gleeful malice. + +'"Who in thunder is Constance Wilder?"--If that's an example of the +famous Jerry Junior's politeness, I prefer not to meet him, thank +you.--It's worse than his last insult; I shall _never_ forgive this!' She +glanced down the page and handed it back with a laugh; from her point of +vantage it was naively transparent. From Mr. Wilder's point, however, the +contents were inscrutable; he looked from the letter to his daughter's +serene smile, and relapsed into a puzzled silence. + +'I should say, on the contrary, that he _doesn't_ want you to start +immediately for the Dolomites,' Constance observed. + +'It's a girl,' Nannie groaned. 'I suspected it from the moment we got the +telegram in Lucerne. Oh, why did I ever let that wretched boy get out of +my sight?' + +'I dare say she's horrid,' Constance put in. 'One meets such frightful +Americans travelling.' + +'We will go up to Riva on the afternoon boat and investigate.' It was +Mrs. Eustace who spoke. There was an undertone in her voice which +suggested that she was prepared to do her duty by her brother's son, +however unpleasant that duty might be. + +'American girls are so grasping,' said Nannie plaintively. 'It's scarcely +safe for an unattached man to go out alone.' + +Mr. Wilder leaned forward and reexamined the letter. + +'By the way, Miss Nannie, how did Jerry learn that you were here? His +letter, I see, was mailed in Riva at ten o'clock last night.' + +Nannie examined the postmark. 'I hadn't thought of that! How could he +have found out--unless that beast of a head waiter telegraphed? What does +it mean?' + +Mr. Wilder spread out his hands and raised his shoulders. 'You've got +me!' A gleam of illumination suddenly flashed over his face; he turned to +his daughter with what was meant to be a carelessly off-hand manner. +'Er--Constance, while I think of it, you didn't discharge Tony again +yesterday, did you?' + +Constance opened her eyes. + +'Discharge Tony? Why should I do that? He isn't working for me.' + +'You weren't rude to him?' + +'Father, am I ever rude to any one?' + +Mr. Wilder looked at the envelope again and shook his head. 'There's +something mighty fishy about this whole business. When you get hold of +that brother of yours again, my dear young woman, you make him tell what +he's been up to this week--and make him tell the truth.' + +'Mr. Wilder!' Nannie was reproachful. 'You don't know Jerry; he's +incapable of telling anything but the truth.' + +Constance tittered. + +'What are you laughing at, Constance?' + +'Nothing--only it's so funny. Why don't you advertise for him? Lost--a +young man, age twenty-eight, height five feet eleven, weight one hundred +and seventy pounds, dark hair, grey eyes, slight scar over left eyebrow; +dressed when last seen in double-breasted blue serge suit and brown +russet shoes. Finder please return to Hotel du Lac and receive liberal +reward.' + +'He isn't lost,' said Nannie. 'We know where he is perfectly; he's at the +Hotel Sole d'Oro in Riva, and that's at the other end of the lake. We're +going up on the afternoon boat to join him.' + +'Oh!' said Constance meekly. + +'You take my advice,' Mr. Wilder put in. 'Go up to Riva if you must--it's +a pleasant trip--but leave your luggage here. See this young man in +person and bring him back with you; tell him we have just as good +mountains as he'll find in the Dolomites. If by any chance you shouldn't +find him----' + +'Of course, we'll find him!' said Nannie. + +Constance looked troubled. + +'Don't go, it's quite a long trip. Write instead and give the letter to +Gustavo; he'll give it to the boat steward who will deliver it +personally. Then if Jerry shouldn't be there----' + +Nannie was losing her patience. + +'Shouldn't be there? But he _says_ he's there.' + +'Oh! yes, certainly, that ends it. Only, you know, Nannie, _I_ don't +believe there really is any such person as Jerry Junior! I think he's a +myth.' + +Gustavo had been hanging about the gate looking anxiously up the road as +if he expected something to happen. His brow cleared suddenly as a boy on +a bicycle appeared in the distance. The boy whirled into the court and +dismounted; glancing dubiously from one to the other of the group, he +finally presented his telegram to Gustavo, who passed it on to Nannie. +She ripped it open and ran her eyes over the contents. + +'Can any one tell me the meaning of this? It's Italian!' She spread it on +the table while the three bent over it in puzzled wonder. + +'Ceingide mai maind dunat comtu Riva stei in Valedolmo geri.' + +Constance was the first to grasp the meaning; she read it twice and +laughed. + +'That's not Italian; it's English, only the operator has spelt it +phonetically--I begin to believe there is a Jerry,' she added, 'no one +could cause such a bother who didn't exist.' She picked up the slip and +translated-- + + '"Changed my mind. Do not come to Riva; stay in Valedolmo--JERRY."' + +'I'm a clairvoyant, you see. I told you he wouldn't be there!' + +'But where is he?' Nannie wailed. + +Constance and her father glanced tentatively at each other, and were +silent. Gustavo, who had been hanging officiously in the rear, approached +and begged their pardon. + +'_Scusi_, signora, but I sink I can explain. _Ecco_! Ze telegram is dated +from Limone--zat is a village close by here on ze ozzer side of ze lake. +He is gone on a walking trip, ze yong man, of two--tree days wif an +Englishman who is been in zis hotel. If he expect you so soon he would +not go. But patience, he will come back. Oh, yes, in a little while, +after one--two day he come back.' + +'What is the man talking about?' Mrs. Eustace was both indignant and +bewildered. 'Jerry was in Riva yesterday at the Hotel Sole d'Oro. How +can he be on a walking trip at the other end of the lake to-day?' + +'You don't suppose'--Nannie's voice was tragic--'that he has eloped with +that American girl?' + +'Good heavens, my dear!' Mrs. Eustace appealed to Mr. Wilder. 'What are +the laws in this dreadful country? Don't banns or something have to be +published three weeks before the ceremony can take place?' + +Mr. Wilder rose hastily. + +'Yes, yes, dear lady. It's impossible; don't consider any such +catastrophe for a moment. Come, Constance, I really think we ought to be +going.--Er, you see, Mrs. Eustace, you can't believe--that is, don't let +anything Gustavo says trouble you. With all respect for his many fine +qualities, he has not Jerry's regard for truth. And don't bother any more +about the boy; he will turn up in a day or so. He may have written some +letters of explanation that you haven't got. These foreign mails----' He +edged toward the gate. + +Constance followed him and then turned back. + +'We're on our way to the jail,' she said, 'to visit our donkey-driver, +who has managed to get himself arrested. While we're there we can make +inquiries if you like; it's barely possible that they might have got hold +of Jerry on some false charge or other. These foreign jails----' + +'Constance!' said Nannie reproachfully. + +'Oh, my dear, I was only joking; of course it's impossible. Good-bye.' +She nodded and laughed and ran after her father. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +If one must go to jail at all one could scarcely choose a more +entertaining jail than that of Valedolmo. It occupies a structure which +was once a palace; and its cells, planned for other purposes, are +spacious. But its most gratifying feature, to one forcibly removed from +social intercourse, is its outlook. The windows command the Piazza +Garibaldi, which is the social centre of the town; it contains the +village post, the fountain, the tobacco shop, the washing-trough, and the +two rival cafes, the 'Independenza' and the 'Liberta.' The piazza is +always dirty and noisy--that goes without saying--but on Wednesday +morning at nine o'clock, it is peculiarly dirty and noisy. Wednesday is +Valedolmo's market day, and the square is so cluttered with booths and +hucksters and anxious buyers, that the peaceable pedestrian can scarcely +wedge his way through. The noise moreover is deafening; above the cries +of vendors and buyers rises a shriller chorus of bleating kids and +squealing pigs and braying donkeys. + +Mr. Wilder, red in the face and short of temper, pushed through the crowd +with little ceremony, prodding on the right with his umbrella, on the +left with his fan, and using his elbows vigorously. Constance, serenely +cool, followed in his wake, nodding here and there to a chance +acquaintance, smiling on every one; the spectacle to her held always +fresh interest. An image vendor close at her elbow insisted that she +should buy a Madonna and Bambina for fifty centesimi, or at least a San +Giuseppe for twenty-five. To her father's disgust she bought them both, +and presented them to two wide-eyed children who in bashful fascination +were dogging their footsteps. + +The appearance of the foreigners in the piazza caused such a ripple of +interest, that for a moment the bargaining was suspended. When the two +mounted the steps of the jail and jerked the bell, as many of the +bystanders as the steps would accommodate mounted with them. Nobody +answered the first ring, and Constance pulled again with a force which +sent a jangle of bells echoing through the interior. After a second's +wait--snortingly impatient on Mr. Wilder's part; he was being pressed +close by the none too clean citizens of Valedolmo--the door was opened a +very small crack by a frowsy jailoress. Her eye fell first upon the +crowd, and she was disposed to close it again; but in the act she caught +sight of the Signorina Americana dressed in white, smiling above a +bouquet of oleanders. Her eyes widened with astonishment. It was long +since such an apparition had presented itself at that door. She dropped a +curtsy, and the crack widened. + +'Your commands, signorina?' + +'We, wish to come in.' + +'But it is against the orders. Friday is visiting-day at thirteen +o'clock. If the signorina had a _permesso_ from the _sindaco_, why +then----' + +The signorina shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. She had no +_permesso_ and it was too much trouble to get one. Besides, the +_sindaco's_ office didn't open till ten o'clock. She glanced down; there +was a shining two-franc piece in her hand. Perhaps the jailoress would +allow them to step inside away from the crowd, and she would explain? + +This sounded reasonable; the door opened farther and they squeezed +through. It banged in the faces of the disappointed spectators, who +lingered hopefully a few moments longer, and then returned to their +bargaining. Inside the big damp stone-walled corridor Constance drew a +deep breath and smiled upon the jailoress; the jailoress smiled back. +Then as a preliminary skirmish, Constance presented the two-franc piece; +and the jailoress dropped a curtsy. + +'We have heard that Antonio, our donkey-driver, has been arrested for +deserting from the army and we have come to find out about it. My father, +the signore here'--she waved her hand toward Mr. Wilder--'likes Antonio +very much, and is quite sure that it is a mistake.' + +The woman's mouth hardened; she nodded with emphasis. + +'_Gia_. We have him, the man Antonio, if that is his name. He may not be +the deserter they search--I do not know--but if he is not the deserter he +is something else. You should have heard him last night, signorina, when +they brought him in. The things he said! They were in a foreign tongue; I +did not understand, but I _felt_. Also he kicked my husband--kicked him +quite hard so that he limps to-day. And the way he orders us about! You +would think he were a prince in his own palace and we were his servants. +Nothing is good enough for him. He objected to the room we gave him first +because it smelt of the cooking. He likes butter with his bread and hot +milk with his coffee. He cannot smoke the cigars which my husband bought +for him, and they cost three soldi apiece. And this morning'--her voice +rose shrilly as she approached the climax--'he called for a bath. It is +true, signorina, a _bath_. _Dio mio_, he wished me to carry the entire +village fountain to his room!' + +'Not really?' Constance opened her eyes in shocked surprise. 'But surely, +signora, you did not do it?' + +The woman blinked. + +'It would be impossible, signorina,' she contented herself with saying. + +Constance, with grave concern, translated the sum of Tony's enormities to +her father; and turned back to the jailoress apologetically. + +'My father is very much grieved that the man should have caused you so +much trouble. But he says, that if we could see him, we could persuade +him to be more reasonable. We talk his language, and can make him +understand.' + +The woman winked meaningly. + +'Eh--he pretends he cannot talk Italian, but he understands enough to ask +for what he wishes. I think--and the Signor-Lieutenant who ordered his +arrest thinks--that he is shamming.' + +'It was a lieutenant who ordered his arrest? Do you remember his +name--was it Carlo di Ferara?' + +'It might have been.' Her face was vague. + +'Of the cavalry?' + +'_Si_, signorina, of the cavalry--and very handsome.' + +Constance laughed. 'Well, the plot thickens! Dad, you must come to Tony's +hearing this afternoon, and put it tactfully to our friend the lieutenant +that we don't like to have our donkey-man snatched away without our +permission.' She turned back to the jailoress. 'And now, where is the +man? We should like to speak with him.' + +'It is against the orders, but perhaps--I have already permitted the head +waiter from the Hotel du Lac to carry him newspapers and cigarettes. He +says that the man Antonio is in reality an American nobleman from New +York, who merely plays at being a donkey-driver for diversion, and that +unless he is set at liberty immediately a ship will come with cannon, +but--we all know Gustavo, signorina.' + +Constance nodded and laughed. + +'You have reason! We all know Gustavo--may we go right up?' + +The jailoress called the jailor. They talked aside; the two-franc piece +was produced as evidence. The jailor with a great show of caution got out +a bunch of keys and motioned them to follow. Up two flights and down a +long corridor with peeling frescoes on the walls--nymphs and cupids and +garlands of roses; most incongruous decorations for a jail--at last they +paused before a heavy oak door. Their guide tried two wrong keys, swore +softly as each failed to turn, and finally with an exclamation of triumph +produced the right one. He swung the door wide and stepped back with a +bow. + +A large room was revealed, brick-floored and somewhat scanty as to +furniture, but with a view--an admirable view, if one did not mind it +being checked off into iron squares. The most conspicuous object in the +room, however, was its occupant, as he sat, in an essentially American +attitude, with his chair tipped back and his feet on the table. A cloud +of tobacco smoke and a wide-spread copy of a New York paper concealed him +from too impertinent gaze. He did not raise his head at the sound of the +opening door, but contented himself with growling---- + +'Confound your impudence! You might at least knock before you come in.' + +Constance laughed and advanced a hesitating step across the threshold. +Tony dropped his paper and sprang to his feet, his face, assuming a shade +of pink only less vivid than the oleanders. She shook her head +sorrowfully. + +'I don't need to tell you, Tony, how shocked we are to find you in such a +place. Our trust has been rudely shaken; we had not supposed we were +harbouring a deserter.' + +Mr. Wilder stepped forward and held out his hand; there was a twinkle in +his eye, which he struggled manfully to suppress. + +'Nonsense, Tony, we don't believe a word of it. You a deserter from the +Italian army? It's preposterous! Where are your naturalization papers?' + +'Thank you, Mr. Wilder, but I don't happen to have my papers with me--I +trust it won't be necessary to produce them. You see'--his glance rested +entirely on Mr. Wilder; he studiously overlooked Constance's +presence--'this Angelo Fresi, the fellow they are after, got into a +quarrel over a gambling debt and struck a superior officer. To avoid +being court-martialled he lit out; it happened a month ago in Milan and +they've been looking for him ever since. Now last night I had the +misfortune to tip Lieutenant Carlo di Ferara over into a ditch. The +matter was entirely accidental, and I regretted it very much. I, of +course, apologized. But what did the lieutenant do but take it into his +head that I, being an assaulter of superior officers, was, by a priori +reasoning, this Angelo Fresi in disguise. Accordingly'--he waved his hand +around the room--'you see me here.' + +'It's an imposition! Depriving an American citizen of his liberty on any +such trumped-up charge as that! I'll telegraph the consul in Milan. +I'll----' + +'Oh, don't trouble. I'll get off this afternoon; they've sent for some +one to identify me, and if he doesn't succeed, I don't see how they can +hold me. In the meantime, I'm comfortable enough.' + +Mr. Wilder's eye wandered about the room. 'H'm, it isn't bad for a jail! +Got everything you need--tobacco, papers?' What's this, New York _Sun_ +only ten days old?' He picked it up and plunged into the headlines. + +Constance turned from the window and glanced casually at Tony. + +'You didn't go to Austria after all?' + +'I was detained; I hope to get off to-morrow.' + +'Oh, before I forget it.' She removed the basket from her arm and set it +on the table. 'Here is some lemon jelly, Tony. I couldn't remember +whether one takes lemon jelly to prisoners or invalids--I've never known +any prisoners before, you see. But anyway, I hope you'll like it; +Elizabetta made it.' + +He bowed stiffly. 'I beg of you to convey my thanks to Elizabetta.' + +'Tony!' She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and glanced +apprehensively over her shoulder to see if the jailor were listening. 'If +by any chance they _should_ identify you as that deserter, just get word +to me and I will have Elizabetta bake you a veal pasty with a rope ladder +and a file inside. I would have had her bake it this morning, only +Wednesday is ironing-day at the villa, and she was so awfully busy----' + +'This is your innings,' Tony rejoined somewhat sulkily. 'I hope you'll +get all the entertainment you can out of the situation.' + +'Thank you, Tony, that's kind. Of course,' she added with a plaintive +note in her voice, 'this must be tiresome for you; but it is a pleasant +surprise for me. I was feeling very sad last night, Tony, at the thought +that you were going to Austria and that I should never, never see you any +more.' + +'I wish I knew whether there's any truth in that statement or not!' + +'Any truth! I realize well, that I might search the whole world over and +never find another donkey-man who sings such beautiful tenor, who wears +such lovely sashes and such becoming earrings. Why, Tony'--she took a +step nearer and her face assumed a look of consternation--'you've lost +your earrings!' + +He turned his back and walked to the window, where he stood moodily +staring at the market. Constance watched his squared shoulders dubiously +out of the corner of her eye; then she glanced momentarily into the hall +where the jailor was visible his face flattened against the bars of an +open window; and from him to her father, still deep in the columns of his +paper, oblivious to both time and place. She crossed to Tony and stood at +his side, peering down at the scene below. + +'I don't suppose it will interest you,' she said in an off-hand tone, her +eyes still intent on the crowd, 'but I got a letter this morning from a +young man who is stopping at the Sole d'Oro in Riva--a very rude letter, +I thought.' + +He whirled about. + +'You know!' + +'It struck me that the person who wrote it was in a temper and might +afterwards be sorry for having hurt my feelings, and so'--she raised her +eyes momentarily to his--'the invitation is still open.' + +'Tell me,' there was both entreaty and command in his tone, 'did you know +the truth before you wrote that letter?' + +'You mean, did I know whom I was inviting? Assuredly! Do you think it +would have been dignified to write such an informal invitation to a +person I did not know?' + +She turned away quickly and laid her hand on her father's shoulder. + +'Come, Dad, don't you think we ought to be going? Poor Tony wants to read +the paper himself.' + +Mr. Wilder came back to the jail and his companions with a start. + +'Oh, eh, yes, I think perhaps we ought. If they don't let you out this +afternoon, Tony, I'll make matters lively for 'em, and if there's +anything you need, send word by Gustavo--I'll send back later.' He fished +in his pockets and brought up a handful of cigars. 'Here's something +better than lemon jelly, and they're not from the tobacco shop in +Valedolmo either.' + +He dropped them on the table and turned toward the door; Constance +followed with a backward glance. + +'Good-bye, Tony; don't despair. Remember that it's always darkest before +the dawn, and that whatever others think, Costantina and I believe in +you. _We_ know that you are incapable of telling anything but the truth!' +She had almost reached the door when she became aware of the flowers in +her hand; she hurried back. 'Oh, I forgot! Costantina sent these with +her--with----' She faltered; her audacity did not go quite that far. + +Tony reached for them. 'With what?' he insisted. + +She laughed; and a second later the door closed behind her. He stood +staring at the door till he heard the key turn in the lock, then he +looked down at the flowers in his hand. A note was tied to the stems; his +fingers trembled as he worked with the knot. + +'_Caro Antonio mio_,' it commenced; he could read that. '_La sua +Costantina_,' it ended; he could read that. But between the two was an +elusive, tantalizing hiatus. He studied it and put it in his pocket and +took it out and studied it again. He was still puzzling over it half an +hour later when Gustavo came to inquire if the signore had need of +anything. + +Had he need of anything! He sent Gustavo flying to the stationer's in +search of an Italian-English dictionary. + +It was four o'clock in the afternoon and all the world--except +Constance--was taking a siesta. The _Farfalla_, anchored at the foot of +the water-steps in a blaze of sunshine, was dipping up and down in drowsy +harmony with the lapping waves; she was for the moment abandoned, +Giuseppe being engaged with a nap in the shade of the cypress trees at +the end of the drive. He was so very engaged that he did not hear the +sound of an approaching carriage, until the horse was pulled to a sudden +halt to avoid stepping on him. Giuseppe staggered sleepily to his feet +and rubbed his eyes. He saw a gentleman descend, a gentleman clothed as +for a wedding, in a frock coat and a white waistcoat, in shining hat and +pearl grey gloves and a boutonniere of oleander. Having paid the driver +and dismissed the carriage, the gentleman fumbled in his pocket for his +card-case. Giuseppe hurrying forward with a polite bow, stopped suddenly +and blinked. He fancied that he must still be dreaming; he rubbed his +eyes and stared again, but he found the second inspection more +confounding than the first. The gentleman looked back imperturbably, no +slightest shade of recognition in his glance, unless a gleam of amusement +far, far down in the depths of his eye might be termed recognition. He +extracted a card with grave deliberation and handed it to his companion. + +'_Voglio vedere la Signorina Costantina_,' he remarked. + +The tone, the foreign accent, were both reminiscent of many a friendly +though halting conversation. Giuseppe stared again, appealingly, but the +gentleman did not help him out; on the contrary he repeated his request +in a slightly sharpened tone. + +'_Si, signore_,' Giuseppe stammered. '_Prego di verire. La signorina e +nel giardino._' + +He started ahead toward the garden, looking behind at every third step to +make sure that the gentleman was still following, that he was not merely +a figment of his own sleepy senses. Their direction was straight toward +the parapet where, on an historic wash-day, the signorina had sat beside +a row of dangling stockings. She was sitting there now, dressed in white, +the oleander tree above her head enveloping her in a glowing and fragrant +shade. So occupied was she with a dreamy contemplation of the mountains +across the lake that she did not hear footsteps until Giuseppe paused +before her and presented the card. She glanced from this to the visitor, +and extended a friendly hand. + +'Mr. Hilliard! Good afternoon.' + +There was nothing of surprise in her greeting; evidently she did not find +the visit extraordinary. Giuseppe stared, his mouth and eyes at their +widest, until the signorina dismissed him; then he turned and walked +back--staggered back almost--never before not even late at night on +Corpus Domini day, had he had such overwhelming reason to doubt his +senses. + +Constance turned to the visitor, and swept him with an appreciative +glance, her eye lingering a second on the oleander in his buttonhole. + +'Perhaps you can tell me, is Tony out of jail? I am so anxious to know.' + +He shook his head. + +'Found guilty and sentenced for life; you'll never see him again.' + +'Ah; poor Tony! I shall miss him.' + +'I shall miss him too; we've had very good times together.' + +Constance suddenly became aware that her guest was still standing; she +moved along and made place on the wall. 'Won't you sit down? Oh, excuse +me,' she added with an anxious glance at his clothes, 'I'm afraid you'll +get dusty; it would be better to bring a chair.' She nodded toward the +terrace. + +He sat down beside her. + +'I am only too honoured; the last time I came you did not invite me to +sit on the wall.' + +'I am sorry if I appeared inhospitable, but you came so unexpectedly, Mr. +Hilliard.' + +'Why "Mr. Hilliard"? When you wrote you called me "dear Jerry."' + +'That was a slip of the pen; I hope you will excuse it.' + +'When I wrote I called you "Miss Wilder"; that was a slip of the pen too. +What I meant to say was, "dear Constance."' + +She let this pass without comment. + +'I have an apology to make.' + +'Yes?' + +'Once, a long time ago, I insulted you; I called you a kid. I take it +back; I swallow the word. You were never a kid.' + +'Oh,' she dimpled, and then, 'I don't believe you remember a thing about +it?' + +'Connie Wilder, a little girl in a blue sailor suit, and two nice fat +braids of yellow hair dangling down her back with red bows on the +ends--very convenient for pulling.' + +'You are making that up. You don't remember.' + +'Ah, but I do! And as for the racket you were making that afternoon, it +was, if you will permit the expression, _infernal_. I remember it +distinctly; I was trying to cram for a math. exam.' + +'It wasn't I. It was your bad little sisters and brothers and cousins.' + +'It was you, dear Constance. I saw you with my own eyes; I heard you with +my own ears.' + +'Bobbie Hilliard was pulling my hair.' + +'I apologize on his behalf, and with that we will close the incident. +There is something much more important which I wish to talk about.' + +'Have you seen Nannie?' She offered this hastily, not to allow a pause. + +'Yes, dear Constance, I have seen Nannie.' + +'Call me "Miss Wilder," please.' + +'I'll be hanged if I will! You've been calling me Tony and Jerry and +anything else you chose ever since you knew me--and long before for the +matter of that.' + +Constance waived the point. + +'Was she glad to see you?' + +'She's always glad to see me.' + +'Oh, don't be so provoking! Give me the particulars. Was she surprised? +How did you explain the telegrams and letters and Gustavo's stories? I +should think the Hotel Sole d'Oro at Riva and the walking trip with the +Englishman must have been difficult.' + +'Not in the least; I told the truth.' + +'The truth! Not all of it?' + +'Every word.' + +'How could you?' There was reproach in her accent. + +'It did come hard; I'm a little out of practice.' + +'Did you tell her about--about me?' + +'I had to, Constance. When it came to the necessity of squaring all of +Gustavo's yarns, my imagination gave out. Anyway, I had to tell her out +of self-defence; she was so superior. She said it was just like a man to +muddle everything up. Here I'd been ten days in the same town with the +most charming girl in the world, and hadn't so much as discovered her +name; whereas if _she_ had been managing it---- You see how it was; I had +to let her know that I was quite capable of taking care of myself without +any interference from her. I even--anticipated a trifle.' + +'How?' + +'She said she was engaged. I told her I was too.' + +'Indeed!' Constance's tone was remote. 'To whom?' + +'The most charming girl in the world.' + +'May I ask her name?' + +He laid his hand on his heart in a gesture reminiscent of Tony. +'Costantina.' + +'Oh! I congratulate you.' + +'Thank you--I hoped you would.' + +She looked away gravely toward the Maggiore rising from the midst of its +clouds. His gaze followed hers, and for three minutes there was silence. +Then he leaned toward her. + +'Constance, will you marry me?' + +'No!' + +A pause of four minutes during which Constance stared steadily at the +mountain. At the end of that time her curiosity overcame her dignity; she +glanced at him sidewise. He was watching her with a smile, partly of +amusement, partly of something else. + +'Dear Constance, haven't you had enough of play, are you never going to +grow up? You are such a kid!' + +She turned back to the mountain. + +'I haven't known you long enough,' she threw over her shoulder. + +'Six years!' + +'One week and two days.' + +'Through three incarnations.' + +She laughed a delicious rippling laugh of surrender, and slipped her hand +into his. + +'You don't deserve it, Jerry, after the fib you told your sister, but I +think--on the whole--I will.' + +Neither noticed that Mr. Wilder had stepped out from the house and was +strolling down the cypress alley in their direction. He rounded the +corner in front of the parapet, and as his eye fell upon them, came to a +startled halt. The young man failed to let go of her hand, and Constance +glanced at her father with an apprehensive blush. + +'Here's--Tony, Dad. He's out of jail.' + +'I see he is.' + +She slipped down from the wall and brought Jerry with her. + +'We'd like your parental blessing, please. I'm going to marry him, but +don't look so worried. He isn't really a donkey-man, nor a Magyar, nor +an orphan, nor an organ-grinder, nor--any of the things he has said he +was. He is just a plain American man and an _awful liar_!' + +The young man held out his hand and Mr. Wilder shook it. + +'Jerry,' he said, 'I don't need to tell you how pleased----' + +'"Jerry!"' echoed Constance. 'Father, you knew?' + +'Long before you did, my dear.' There was a suggestion of triumph in Mr. +Wilder's tone. + +'Jerry, you told.' There was reproach, scorn, indignation in hers. + +Jerry spread out his hands in a gesture of repudiation. + +'What could I do? He asked my name the day we climbed Monte Maggiore; +naturally, I couldn't tell him a lie.' + +'Then we haven't fooled anybody. How unromantic!' + +'Oh, yes,' said Jerry, 'we've fooled lots of people. Gustavo doesn't +understand, and Giuseppe, you noticed, looked rather dazed. Then there's +Lieutenant Carlo di Ferara----' + +'Oh!' said Constance, her face suddenly blank. + +'You can explain to him now,' said her father, peering through the trees. + +A commotion had suddenly arisen on the terrace--the rumble of wheels, +the confused mingling of voices. Constance and Jerry looked too. They +found the yellow omnibus of the Hotel du Lac, its roof laden with +luggage, drawn up at the end of the driveway, and Mrs. Eustace and Nannie +on the point of descending. The centre of the terrace was already +occupied by Lieutenant di Ferara, who, with heels clicked together and +white gloved hands at salute, was in the act of achieving a military bow. +Miss Hazel fluttering from the door, in one breath welcomed the guests, +presented the lieutenant, and ordered Giuseppe to convey the luggage +upstairs. Then she glanced questioningly about the terrace. + +'I thought Constance and her father were here--Giuseppe!' + +Giuseppe dropped his end of a trunk and approached. Miss Hazel handed him +the lieutenant's card. 'The signorina and the signore--in the garden, I +think.' + +Giuseppe advanced upon the garden. Jerry's face, at the sight, became as +blank as Constance's. The two cast upon each other a glance of guilty +terror, and from this looked wildly behind for a means of escape. Their +eyes simultaneously lighted on the break in the garden wall. Jerry sprang +up and pulled Constance after him. On the top, she gathered her skirts +together preparatory to jumping, then turned back for a moment toward her +father. + +'Dad,' she called in a stage whisper, 'you go and meet him like a +gentleman. Tell him you are very sorry, but your daughter is not at home +to-day.' + +The two conspirators scrambled down on the other side; and Mr. Wilder, +with a sigh, dutifully stepped forward to greet the guests. + + + + + +Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner, Frome and London + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Jerry, by Jean Webster + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JERRY *** + +***** This file should be named 20357.txt or 20357.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/3/5/20357/ + +Produced by David Clarke, Louise Pryor and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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