Heimatlos Part 9

Mrs. Menotti knew of whom they were speaking, for she had often heard Rico mention her during the years he had been with them. "Yes," she said, "it would be delightful if we could have her, but my little boy must not forget to be reasonable."

"But we _can_ have her, mamma," broke in Silvio. "Rico knows where she is, and he can go to-morrow and bring her to us."

Mrs. Menotti had for some time secretly wished that Rico might find for her some one to a.s.sist in the care of Silvio, but she would not for a moment consider letting the boy go back to the perils from which he had so fortunately escaped. She sought to change the subject of conversation between the children, and endeavored to interest them in other things, but she failed to keep them from going back to the original subject. Silvio would invariably say, "Rico knows where she is and he must get her."

"Do you suppose that Rico will deliberately go among those wicked people to get her, when he can stay here in safety?" asked the mother.

"Will you?" said Silvio, fastening his large blue eyes upon Rico.

"Surely, I will go," said Rico enthusiastically.

"Rico, have you lost your senses?" exclaimed Mrs. Menotti. "What do you suppose I can do with you when you both begin to be unreasonable?

You had better play something for Silvio, Rico, and I will go to the garden for a while. By the time I get back I shall hope to find two good, sensible boys."

The boys, however, did not care for music to-night, and they talked, instead, of possible ways of bringing Stineli to them and of how it would seem to have her there.

When she returned from the garden, where she had enjoyed the quiet evening, Mrs. Menotti had to remind Rico that it was time to go home.

Silvio urged his mother for a promise that Rico might be allowed to go for Stineli, and both boys eagerly awaited her answer.

"You may feel differently about it in the morning, children," she said. "I want you to go to sleep in peace; possibly before the night is over I can think of a way to satisfy you."

Early the following morning Silvio raised himself in bed to see if his mother was awake and said, "Have you thought of a way, mamma?"

Mrs. Menotti could not say that she had, and again the child's discontent broke out. All that day and the next and for many days thereafter he would not be comforted. Mrs. Menotti thought it was only a fancy and would wear itself out, but the extra strain upon the boy began to tell upon his health to such an extent that the mother became alarmed. She was convinced that Silvio ought to have a companion, and she resolved to consult with some trustworthy person, to see if it were possible to get a child from the hills in safety. Mrs. Menotti understood that Rico had escaped from ill treatment in the hill country, and she avoided asking him questions about his past life, hoping that he was young enough to let silence efface all unpleasant memories. On this account she felt quite unwilling to let him undertake the journey, and even the consideration of such a possibility brought to her a fuller realization of how necessary he had become to their own happiness.

CHAPTER XVI

THE ADVICE

Under these conditions it was a pleasure and relief to Mrs. Menotti to see the pastor walking up the garden path. He came frequently to inquire after the health of the little one. As usual he was dressed in his long black coat.

"Silvio, the pastor is coming; isn't that nice?" said Mrs. Menotti, as she went to the door to meet him.

"I don't want to see him. I wish it were Stineli," said Silvio, pouting. Then seeing that the pastor had heard him, he covered his head with the bedclothes.

"My little boy is out of humor to-day, and I am sure he didn't mean what he said," apologized the mother.

They heard the boy under the covers say, "I did mean it."

The pastor must have suspected where the voice came from, for he walked straight over to the bed, although there was not a bit of Silvio in sight. He said: "G.o.d bless you, my son, how are you feeling, and why do you hide yourself like a little fox? Creep out of there and tell me what you mean by Stineli."

Instantly Silvio's head was out and he said, "Rico's Stineli."

"You must be seated, pastor," said Mrs. Menotti. "I will tell you what Silvio means, for I want your advice very much."

Mrs. Menotti recited in detail all that she knew about Stineli, the reason why they wished for her, and the obstacles in the way of getting her. "I have thought," she said, "that it might be a good thing for the girl to get away from those wicked people, and I wonder if you can think of a safe way to bring her here."

"I think," said the pastor, "that you have been misinformed about those people in the mountains. I am sure that there are kind-hearted men and women living there as well as here. People travel so much in these days that I am sure that it cannot be much of a task to get up there. One thing I am positive about is that the journey can be taken in absolute safety. I know some live-stock dealers who regularly make the trip from Bergamo to the mountains, and who will be able to tell me all about it. Since you are interested, I will see one of the men as soon as I go to Bergamo and I will let you know when I return."

Silvio's eyes had grown larger as the pastor spoke, and he began to feel a great respect for the man who could so ably take his part. When the pastor extended his hand to Silvio in parting, the boy fairly plunged his little palm into the larger one, as much as to say, "You deserve it now."

Weeks pa.s.sed by as Mrs. Menotti waited to hear further news from the minister, but Silvio's patience did not again fail him. He felt sure that the good man would help him to get what he wished.

When Rico heard that there was hope of his being sent for Stineli, he forgot that he had ever been sad. The expectation of having her there to enjoy the beautiful scenes and to share his companionship fairly made the world over for him. His serious expression gave way to a happy one, and his purpose so animated him that it added a new charm to his manner. He went often to see Silvio, and took pleasure in entertaining him by relating incidents of his active life among the people with whom he lived. He stopped playing the dreamy airs and subst.i.tuted those more suited to his present mood. He played so well by this time that Mrs. Menotti was proud of his ability, and she often gave up a walk in order to listen to him. It was here, with those who loved him, that Rico enjoyed the music he had learned. The only regret of the day came when he had to bid them good night and go away, for it always brought afresh the longing for a home of his own.

The change in Rico was noticed at the hotel where he lived. The landlady was much astonished one morning to have him ask her to hire some one else to care for the chickens and outbuildings. He thought that he had performed those duties as long as was necessary, and he preferred to be released also from blacking shoes and from similar work. The landlady remarked that he was indeed getting fastidious, but she was too wise to remonstrate, for she knew that there would still be enough for him to do.

Mrs. Menotti had liberally provided Rico with wearing apparel. She selected as carefully in material and workmanship as if he were her own child. The landlady said that he always went about looking like a little prince, and she meant to find no fault in regard to the work he chose to do. "I am sure," she said to her husband, "that since he brings so much money from the dances where he plays, I ought not to object to the slight expense of hiring a boy to do the menial work about the house and garden. Rico has been a credit to us so far."

The years had pa.s.sed rapidly since Rico came to Peschiera. The vague, dreamy look in his eyes had given place to one of purpose and determination. He had the appearance of one much older than he was.

Another autumn was at hand. The purple grapes were temptingly ripe on the vines, and the oleander blossoms sparkled in the sunshine. One morning, about the usual time for Rico to arrive at Mrs. Menotti's, Silvio was listening for his step on the garden walk. He heard the gate open, but when he raised himself to look, there was the pastor instead of Rico! Silvio did not hide under the covers; instead, he clapped his hands, shouting, "Mamma, the pastor is here," and stretched his arms to him as soon as he entered the room.

This cordial welcome pleased the minister, and he went directly to Silvio's bed, although he had seen the mother gathering some figs in the garden. He took the little one in his arms and said, "How is our Silvio to-day?"

"Well, thank you. When can Rico go?"

The good man laughed. "To-morrow morning, my son; he is to go at five o'clock," he answered.

Later the pastor explained to Mrs. Menotti that he had just returned from Bergamo, where he had spent a few days. He had looked up a stock dealer, according to his promise, and found that the man had made regular trips to the mountains for the last thirty years; every bit of the way that Rico would have to go was familiar to him. It so happened that he had made his plans to go up again, and if they would send Rico on the early morning train, he would take him along and see that he was well cared for; moreover, he had said that as he was acquainted with all the coachmen and conductors on the way, he would arrange for a safe return trip, so that the young travelers could not possibly go astray.

"I wish that I could be certain that no harm would come to Rico," said Mrs. Menotti to the pastor, as she accompanied him to the gate on his departure that morning.

"You have no reasonable cause for worry," replied the pastor. "Let the child go in peace, and we will pray G.o.d to bless the journey."

Just at this moment Rico came in sight. Silvio saw him from the doorway and shouted: "Don't tell him! Please don't tell him! I want to tell him myself. Come, Rico; I have something wonderful to tell you."

Mrs. Menotti left the boys alone while she packed some things for the journey. In a large traveling bag she put a great piece of smoked ham, a loaf of fresh bread, a package of dried fruit, some figs fresh from the garden, and a bottle of her best fruit juice wrapped in a napkin; next came shirts, stockings, shoes, handkerchiefs, and various other things, so that one might suppose that Rico were going for a month's stay instead of a week.

"How much I have learned to care for that boy," she thought, as she looked about to make sure that nothing had been forgotten, and her heart sent up a silent prayer for a safe journey.

"I think you had better take this bag to the station now, Rico," she said to him when she came downstairs. "Silvio has told you that you are to go on the early train, and you will wish to explain matters to the landlady. You must ask her if it greatly inconveniences her to let you go so soon."

Rico was astonished to find that he was expected to take a traveling bag of such huge proportions, but knowing that loving hands had prepared it, he did not remonstrate, but took it gladly and did as he was directed.

When Rico told the landlady that the pastor had planned for him to go to the mountains in the morning to get Stineli, she took it for granted that the girl was his sister, and inferred that the sister would live with them. Rico's statement that Stineli was to live with Mrs. Menotti undeceived her. It was a disappointment, but she gave her consent, feeling thankful to Mrs. Menotti for not having tried to get Rico.

"It must be that Rico likes it here," said the landlady to some guests that evening, "because he is going back to get his sister." She meant to let those people in the hills know how good a place the boy had, so she packed a large basket with sausages, cheese, and boiled eggs, and spread a loaf of bread with fresh b.u.t.ter, saying: "You mustn't be hungry on the trip. If I put up more than you need, they will no doubt be glad to have some up there; besides, you must have something on the way back, for you will surely come back to me, won't you, Rico?"

"In a week I will be here again," said Rico. He took his violin and went over to bid Silvio and the mother good-by. He asked them to care for his violin, for he would not have dared to intrust it to any one else. Rico could not spend the evening with them, because he was expected to go to bed early. Mrs. Menotti's motherly farewell made his heart go out to her in grat.i.tude, and Silvio's "Come back soon" rang in his ears again and again as he walked through the darkness to the hotel.