The Gadfly Part 29

He wouldn't let me come near him for days together. He hates to have me about when he's ill."

She glanced up for a moment, and, dropping her eyes again, went on:

"He always used to send me off to a ball, or concert, or something, on one pretext or another, when he felt it coming on. Then he would lock himself into his room. I used to slip back and sit outside the door--he would have been furious if he'd known. He'd let the dog come in if it whined, but not me. He cares more for it, I think."

There was a curious, sullen defiance in her manner.

"Well, I hope it won't be so bad any more," said Martini kindly. "Dr.

Riccardo is taking the case seriously in hand. Perhaps he will be able to make a permanent improvement. And, in any case, the treatment gives relief at the moment. But you had better send to us at once, another time. He would have suffered very much less if we had known of it earlier. Good-night!"

He held out his hand, but she drew back with a quick gesture of refusal.

"I don't see why you want to shake hands with his mistress."

"As you like, of course," he began in embarra.s.sment.

She stamped her foot on the ground. "I hate you!" she cried, turning on him with eyes like glowing coals. "I hate you all! You come here talking politics to him; and he lets you sit up the night with him and give him things to stop the pain, and I daren't so much as peep at him through the door! What is he to you? What right have you to come and steal him away from me? I hate you! I hate you! I HATE you!"

She burst into a violent fit of sobbing, and, darting back into the garden, slammed the gate in his face.

"Good Heavens!" said Martini to himself, as he walked down the lane.

"That girl is actually in love with him! Of all the extraordinary things----"

CHAPTER VIII.

THE Gadfly's recovery was rapid. One afternoon in the following week Riccardo found him lying on the sofa in a Turkish dressing-gown, chatting with Martini and Galli. He even talked about going downstairs; but Riccardo merely laughed at the suggestion and asked whether he would like a tramp across the valley to Fiesole to start with.

"You might go and call on the Gra.s.sinis for a change," he added wickedly. "I'm sure madame would be delighted to see you, especially now, when you look so pale and interesting."

The Gadfly clasped his hands with a tragic gesture.

"Bless my soul! I never thought of that! She'd take me for one of Italy's martyrs, and talk patriotism to me. I should have to act up to the part, and tell her I've been cut to pieces in an underground dungeon and stuck together again rather badly; and she'd want to know exactly what the process felt like. You don't think she'd believe it, Riccardo?

I'll bet you my Indian dagger against the bottled tape-worm in your den that she'll swallow the biggest lie I can invent. That's a generous offer, and you'd better jump at it."

"Thanks, I'm not so fond of murderous tools as you are."

"Well, a tape-worm is as murderous as a dagger, any day, and not half so pretty."

"But as it happens, my dear fellow, I don't want the dagger and I do want the tape-worm. Martini, I must run off. Are you in charge of this obstreperous patient?"

"Only till three o'clock. Galli and I have to go to San Miniato, and Signora Bolla is coming till I can get back."

"Signora Bolla!" the Gadfly repeated in a tone of dismay. "Why, Martini, this will never do! I can't have a lady bothered over me and my ailments. Besides, where is she to sit? She won't like to come in here."

"Since when have you gone in so fiercely for the proprieties?" asked Riccardo, laughing. "My good man, Signora Bolla is head nurse in general to all of us. She has looked after sick people ever since she was in short frocks, and does it better than any sister of mercy I know. Won't like to come into your room! Why, you might be talking of the Gra.s.sini woman! I needn't leave any directions if she's coming, Martini. Heart alive, it's half-past two; I must be off!"

"Now, Rivarez, take your physic before she comes," said Galli, approaching the sofa with a medicine gla.s.s.

"d.a.m.n the physic!" The Gadfly had reached the irritable stage of convalescence, and was inclined to give his devoted nurses a bad time.

"W-what do you want to d-d-dose me with all sorts of horrors for now the pain is gone?"

"Just because I don't want it to come back. You wouldn't like it if you collapsed when Signora Bolla is here and she had to give you opium."

"My g-good sir, if that pain is going to come back it will come; it's not a t-toothache to be frightened away with your trashy mixtures. They are about as much use as a t-toy squirt for a house on fire. However, I suppose you must have your way."

He took the gla.s.s with his left hand, and the sight of the terrible scars recalled Galli to the former subject of conversation.

"By the way," he asked; "how did you get so much knocked about? In the war, was it?"

"Now, didn't I just tell you it was a case of secret dungeons and----"

"Yes, that version is for Signora Gra.s.sini's benefit. Really, I suppose it was in the war with Brazil?"

"Yes, I got a bit hurt there; and then hunting in the savage districts and one thing and another."

"Ah, yes; on the scientific expedition. You can fasten your shirt; I have quite done. You seem to have had an exciting time of it out there."

"Well, of course you can't live in savage countries without getting a few adventures once in a way," said the Gadfly lightly; "and you can hardly expect them all to be pleasant."

"Still, I don't understand how you managed to get so much knocked about unless in a bad adventure with wild beasts--those scars on your left arm, for instance."

"Ah, that was in a puma-hunt. You see, I had fired----"

There was a knock at the door.

"Is the room tidy, Martini? Yes? Then please open the door. This is really most kind, signora; you must excuse my not getting up."

"Of course you mustn't get up; I have not come as a caller. I am a little early, Cesare. I thought perhaps you were in a hurry to go."

"I can stop for a quarter of an hour. Let me put your cloak in the other room. Shall I take the basket, too?"

"Take care; those are new-laid eggs. Katie brought them in from Monte Oliveto this morning. There are some Christmas roses for you, Signor Rivarez; I know you are fond of flowers."

She sat down beside the table and began clipping the stalks of the flowers and arranging them in a vase.

"Well, Rivarez," said Galli; "tell us the rest of the puma-hunt story; you had just begun."

"Ah, yes! Galli was asking me about life in South America, signora; and I was telling him how I came to get my left arm spoiled. It was in Peru.

We had been wading a river on a puma-hunt, and when I fired at the beast the powder wouldn't go off; it had got splashed with water. Naturally the puma didn't wait for me to rectify that; and this is the result."

"That must have been a pleasant experience."

"Oh, not so bad! One must take the rough with the smooth, of course; but it's a splendid life on the whole. Serpent-catching, for instance----"

He rattled on, telling anecdote after anecdote; now of the Argentine war, now of the Brazilian expedition, now of hunting feats and adventures with savages or wild beasts. Galli, with the delight of a child hearing a fairy story, kept interrupting every moment to ask questions. He was of the impressionable Neapolitan temperament and loved everything sensational. Gemma took some knitting from her basket and listened silently, with busy fingers and downcast eyes. Martini frowned and fidgeted. The manner in which the anecdotes were told seemed to him boastful and self-conscious; and, notwithstanding his unwilling admiration for a man who could endure physical pain with the amazing fort.i.tude which he had seen the week before, he genuinely disliked the Gadfly and all his works and ways.

"It must have been a glorious life!" sighed Galli with naive envy. "I wonder you ever made up your mind to leave Brazil. Other countries must seem so flat after it!"