The Under Dog Part 28

"'Yes.'

"'What?'

"'Well, Valpocelli of '82.' That was the best wine in their cellar, and cost ten lire a bottle.

"'Is there anything better than that?' he demanded.

"'Yes, Valpocelli of '71. _Thirty_ lire a bottle. They haven't a drop of it here or anywhere else.'

"Auguste, who had been half-paralyzed when we sat down, and who, in his bewilderment, had not heard the conversation, reached over and placed the ordinary Chianti included in the price of the dinner at my elbow.

"The man raised his eyes, looked at August with a peculiar expression, amounting almost to disgust, on his face, and said:

"'I didn't order that. Take that stuff away and bring me a bottle of '82--a quart, mind you--if you haven't the '71.'

"All through the dinner he talked in monosyllables, answering my questions but offering few topics of his own; and although I did my best to draw him out, he made no statement of any kind that would give me the slightest clew as to his antecedents or that would lead up either to his occupation or his purpose in seeking me out. He didn't seem to wish to conceal anything about himself, although of course I asked him no personal questions, nor did he pump me about my affairs. He was just one of those dull, lifeless conversationalists who must be probed all the time to get anything out of. Before I was half through the dinner I wondered why I had bothered about him at all.

"All this time the fellows were off in one corner watching the whole affair. When Auguste brought the '82, looking like a huge tear bottle dug up from where it had rusted for two thousand years, Roscoff gave a gasp and crossed the room to tell Billy Wood that I had struck a millionnaire who was going to buy everything I had painted, including my big picture for the Salon, all of which was about as close as that idiot Roscoff ever got to anything.

"When the bill was brought Diffendorfer turned his back to me, took out a roll of bills from his hip-pocket, and pa.s.sed a new bank-note to Auguste with a contemptuous side wiggle of his forefinger and the remark in English in a tone intended for Auguste's ear alone: 'No change.'

"Auguste laid the bill on his tray and walked up to the desk with a face struggling between joy over the fee and terror for my safety. A fellow who lived on ten-lire wine and who gave money away like water must murder people for a living and have a cemetery of his own in which to bury his dead. He evidently never expected to see me alive again.

"Dinner over and paid for, my host put on his coat, said 'Good-night'

with rather an embarra.s.sed air, and without looking at anyone in the room--not even Roscoff, who made a move as if to intercept him--Roscoff had some pictures of his own to sell--walked dejectedly out of the caffe and disappeared in the night.

"When I crossed the traghetto the following evening the storm had not abated. It was worse than on the previous night; the wind was blowing a gale and whirling the fog into the narrow streets and choking up the archways and _sotti portici_.

"As my foot touched the nagging of the Campo, Diffendorfer stepped forward and laid his hand on my arm.

"'You are late,' he said. He spoke in the same crisp way he had the night before. Whether it was an a.s.sumed air of bravado, or whether it was his natural ugly disposition, I couldn't tell. It jarred on me again, however, and I walked on.

"He stepped quickly in front of me, as if to bar my way, and said, in a gentler tone:

"'Don't go away. Come dine with me.'

"'But I dined with you yesterday.'

"'Yes, I know--and you hated me afterward. I'll be better this time.'

"'I didn't hate you, I only----'

"'Yes, you did, and you had reason to. I wasn't myself, somehow. Try me again to-day.'

"There was something in his eyes--a troubled, disappointed expression that appealed to me--and so I said:

"'All right, but on one condition: it's my dinner this time.'

"'And my wine,' he answered, and a satisfied look came into his face.

"'Yes, your wine. Come along.'

"The fellow's blunt, jerky way of speaking had somehow made me speak in the same way. Our talk sounded just like two boys who had had a fight and who were forced to shake hands and make up. My own curiosity as to who he might be, what he was doing in Venice, and why he was pursuing me, was now becoming aroused. That he should again throw himself in my way after the stupid dinner of the night before only deepened the mystery.

"When we got inside, just as we were taking our seats at one of the small tables in that side room off the street, a shout of laughter came from the next room--the one we fellows always dined in. I had determined to get inside of the fellow at this sitting, and thought the more retired table better for the purpose. Diffendorfer jumped to his feet on hearing the laughter, peered into the room, and, picking up his wet umbrella, said:

"'Let's go in there--more people.' I followed him, and drew out another chair from a table opposite one at which Roscoff, Woods, and two or three of the boys were dining. They all nudged each other when we came in, and a wink went around, but they didn't speak. They behaved precisely as if I had a girl in tow and wanted to be left alone.

"This dinner was exactly like the first one. Diffendorfer ordered the same wine--Valpocelli, '82, and ate each course that Auguste brought him, with only a word now and then about the weather, the number of people in Venice, and the dishes. The only time when his face lighted up was when a chap named Cruthers, from Munich, who arrived that morning and who hadn't been in Venice for years, came up and slapped me on the back and hollered out as he dragged up a chair and sat down beside me: 'Glad to see you, old man; what are you drinking?'

"I reached for the '82--there was only a gla.s.s left--and was moving the bottle within reach of my friend's hand when Diffendorfer said to Auguste:

"'Bring another quart of '82;' then he turned and said to the Munich chap: 'Sorry, sir, it isn't the '71, but they haven't a bottle in the house.'

"I was up a tree, and so I said:

"'Cruthers, let me present you to my friend, Mr. Diffendorfer.' My companion at mention of his name sprang up, seized Cruthers's fingers as if he had been a long-lost brother, and pretty nearly shook his hand off. Cruthers said in reply:

"'I'm very glad to meet you. If you're a friend of Marny's you're all right. You've got all you ought to have in this world.' You must have known Cruthers--he was always saying that kind of frilly things to the boys. Then they both sat down again.

"After this quite a different expression came into the man's face. His embarra.s.sment, or ugliness of temper, or whatever it was, was gone. He jumped up again, insisted upon filling Cruthers's gla.s.s himself, and when Cruthers tasted it and winked both of his eyes over it, and then got up and shook Diffendorfer's hand a second time to let him know how good he thought it was, and how proud he was of being his guest, Diffendorfer's face even broke out into a smile, and for a moment the fellow was as happy as anybody about him, and not the chump he had been with me. He was evidently pleased with Cruthers, for when Cruthers refused a third gla.s.s he said to him: 'To-morrow, perhaps'--and, beckoning to Auguste, said, in a voice loud enough for us all to hear: 'Put a cork in it and mark it; we'll finish it to-morrow.'

"Cruthers made no reply, not considering himself, of course, as one of the party, and, nodding pleasantly to my companion, joined Woods's table again.

"When dinner was over, Diffendorfer put on his hat and coat, handed me my umbrella, and said:

"'I'm going home now. Walk along with me?'

"It was still raining, the wind rattling the swinging doors of the caffe. I did not answer for a moment. The dinner had left me as much in the dark as ever, and I was trying to make up my mind what to do next.

"'Why not stay here and smoke?' I asked.

"'No, walk along with me as far as the traghetto, please,' and he laid his hand in a half-pleading way on my arm.

"Again that same troubled look in his face that I had seen once before made me alter my mind. I threw on my coat, picked up my umbrella, nodded to the boys, who looked rather anxiously after me, and plunged through the door and out into the storm.

"It was the kind of a night that I love,--a regular howler. Most people think the sunshine makes Venice, but they wouldn't think so if they could study it on one of these nights when a nor'easter whirls up out of the Adriatic and comes roaring across the lagoons as if it would swallow up the dear old girl and sweep her into the sea. She don't mind it. She always comes up smiling the next day, looking twice as pretty for her bath, and I'm always twice as happy, for I've seen a whole lot of things I never would have seen in the daylight. The Campanile, for one thing, upside down in the streaming piazza; slashes of colored light from the shop-windows soaking into the rain-pools; and great, black, gloomy shadows choking up alleys, with only a single taper peering out of the darkness like a burglar's lantern.

"When we turned to breast the gale--the rain had almost ceased--and struggled on through the Ascensione, a sudden gust of wind whirled my umbrella inside out, and after that I walked on ahead of him, stopping every now and then to enjoy the grandeur of it all, until we reached the traghetto. When we arrived, only one gondola was on duty, the gondolier m.u.f.fled to his eyes in glistening oilskins, his sou'wester hat tied under his chin.

"Once on the other side of the Ca.n.a.l it started in to rain again, and so Diffendorfer held his own umbrella over me until we reached my gate on the Fondamenta San Zorzi, in the rear of my quarters. He stood beside me under the flare of the gas-jets while I fumbled in my pocket for my night-key--I had about decided to invite him in and pump him dry--and then said:

"'I live a little way from here; don't go in; come home with me.'

"A strange feeling now took possession of me, which I could not account for. The whole plot rushed over me with a force which I must confess sent a cold chill down my back. I began to think: This man had forced himself upon me not once, but twice; had set up the best bottle of wine he could buy, and was now about to steer me into a den. Then the thought rose in my mind--I could handle any two of him, and if I give way now and he finds I am over-cautious or suspicious, it will only make it worse for me when I see him again. This was followed by a common-sense view of the whole situation. The mystery in it, after all, if there was any mystery, was one of my own making. To ask a man who had been dining with you to come to your lodging was neither a suspicious nor an unusual thing. Besides, while he had been often brusque, and at times curt, he had shown me nothing but kindness, and had tried only to please me.

"My mind was made up instantly. I determined to follow the affair to the end.