Vestigia Volume Ii Part 6

He drew a small fancifully-embroidered case out of an inner pocket and opened it before her. Inside were five crisp pink bank-notes of a hundred francs each.

'There, Italia _mia_! You can tell your father that is what my father meant to give him,--and the other two hundred francs are for interest.

Tell him he has not lost by waiting.'

'Signor Marchese!'

It was pretty to see how the colour flushed all over her face and throat, to the very border of her scarlet handkerchief. 'My father will be so happy,--and so proud,' she said shyly. She did not dare to touch the little portfolio until he tossed it gaily into her ap.r.o.n, and then she turned it over with a childish pleasure in the bright colours and gilt thread of the embroidery; it impressed her more than any amount of money.

'I wonder what father will do with it? He will not know what to do.

We were never rich before,' she said at last, looking up at the young man who stood before her with grateful shining eyes.

Gasparo was watching her intently. His own face flushed and softened as their glances met. He tossed back his head with an air of bright decision.

'Should you like more money,--a great deal of money, which would be all yours to spend as you please. Should you like to be rich, Italia _mia_?'

'Oh no,' said the girl quickly. And then she laughed. 'I should not know what to do. My father always says it is not enough to have money, one must have brains to spend it. And I should be miserable. I should be like one of those ragged little sparrows over there if you put it in a fine gold cage. I should always be wanting to get back to the old ways. I think even the smallest bird must enjoy its wings.

'But suppose some one was with you in the cage? Some one who was very good to you and looked after you? Do you think you would not like it better then?' he asked in the gentlest voice. And then, as she did not answer immediately: 'Listen, my Italia. I have heard some foolish story of your betrothal to that young De Rossi,--to Dino, but it is not true; is it? You are not _promessa_; your father told me so only the other day.'

He moved a little nearer, so that his handsome glowing face was very close to hers. He was very much in earnest now; inclination and the sense of opposition were firing the old rebellious Balbi blood; with that air of tender deference tempering the bright audacity of his presence, he looked the very incarnation of persuasive joy; the divine glamour of success was like an atmosphere about him; he carried himself with the compelling confidence of a young G.o.d;--it was Bacchus wooing Ariadne beside the rippling sea. 'My Italia, you are not betrothed?'

he repeated softly.

Her face had turned very pale: her lips quivered.

'No.'

'Ah,' said Gasparo, drawing in his breath quickly.

Her thick dark hair was loosely twisted into a heavy knot; and pinned back just above the nape of her neck. One long waving lock had escaped from its fastening, and lay across her shoulder. The young man looked at it, and then just lifted it with the tip of a finger.

'One of my ancestors married an Infanta of Spain. But I am Gasparo Balbi; I can do what I choose, and nothing can alter that. A Balbi does as he pleases.' He put his hand against her cheek and turned the averted face towards his own, very gently. 'Look at me, Italia. Don't you know that you can make me commit any sort of folly when you look at me with those big eyes of yours? My little Italia, next week I shall have to go away, back to Rome. But I care too much for you,--very much too much,--to leave you as I found you, you little sorceress! Now listen. Before I go I want you to promise me that some day you will marry me. Do you hear, Italia? I want you to say that some day, very soon, you will be my wife.'

'Oh, no--no!' she said, in a frightened whisper, keeping her eyes fixed upon him and starting back.

'But I say--yes!' repeated Gasparo smiling. Now that the die was cast, he could scarcely understand how he had hesitated; she was so simple, so sweet, so well worth the winning--in any fashion--this brown-eyed daughter of the people.

He would have taken her hand, but she drew back and stood against the old stone b.u.t.tress of the bridge. Her face had grown grave with the expression it wore when she was singing. She shrank back, her two little sunburnt hands hanging down and clasped tightly before her.

'Signor Marchese----'

She hesitated for an instant, and her eyelids dropped. 'It is--it is very good of you to take so much trouble about me. But what you say is quite impossible. I could never marry you, never. I am not a lady, and I don't want to be rich or--or--anything.'

Then the colour rushed back to her cheeks, and she lifted her head and looked at him full in the face.

'You have been very good to my father,--and to me, sir. And I knew you when we were all children, so you will forgive me if I take a liberty.

I _never_ should care for you, sir: I love Dino. We are not betrothed'--her eyes filled with tears,--'he can never marry me; and he and my father have quarrelled. Perhaps I shall never see my Dino again. But I do love him,--dearly,' she said, with a half sob.

When Gasparo had gone the sobs came fast and faster. Life had suddenly grown full of confusing pain; it was bewildering. And Dino seemed so far off. She knelt before her bed, in the little inner chamber, and pressed her hands hard before her face in the effort to recall the very sound of his voice when he spoke to her. She tried to feel again the warm strong pressure of his hand upon hers. And she loved him so! she loved him so! the poor child repeated to herself over and over. How _could_ he bear to leave her? how _could_ he let anything come between his love and her?

But after a while the sobs grew quieter: she still knelt, gazing straight before her with an expression of sweet and ardent belief upon her tear-stained face. The words he had spoken at the church door had come back to her. '_You know I never meant to hurt you, dear. Italia, you do know that I love you._' She said them over in a whisper, like a prayer, looking up at the little picture of the Madonna above her bed.

No other words would come, but surely our pitiful Lady of Sorrows would hear and understand.

She was not altogether to be pitied, this grief-stricken Italia. For to her, at least, in time, could come that great reward,--the sense of having lived a faithful life; in which the first indeed could be the last; a life wherein no loved thing has been forgotten, and memory and belief are alike sacred.

When Drea came home from his morning's work he found everything in order. His dinner was ready for him beside the fire. He ate it in silence; seeming to take very little notice of his daughter's white cheeks and heavy-lidded eyes. But as he sat smoking his pipe after dinner, he put out his rough hard hand as she pa.s.sed by in front of him, and drew her down gently upon his knee.

'Don't fret, my little girl; don't fret now,' he said tenderly, and stroked her ruffled hair.

Then he added cheerfully. 'Come now! you said the young Padrone was going to make me a present. Let us hear about it. Good Lord, it must be a matter of twenty years since any one has thought of making me a present.--And I'll tell you what, my girl. It's full moon to-night.

If you like, I will take you out in the boat with me, when I go to look after the nets. And so courage, my little one, courage! Lord bless you! it's only in a storm one can find out who's a good sailor. And so cheer up for--what's an old father good for if it isn't to keep those pretty eyes from getting red with crying? And the good G.o.d lets a man do, but He doesn't let him overdo. He's no fool, is Dino. We're not at the end of the matter yet.'

CHAPTER VI.

ON THE BUOY.

There was no difficulty in arranging for that journey to Pisa. As soon as it was settled that they were to go by water, to row themselves the fifteen miles of the old disused ca.n.a.l, Dino volunteered to have the skiff in readiness at a moment's notice. 'I want to be away from here.

The sooner we start, the sooner it's all over, the better pleased I shall be,' the young man insisted impatiently.

Ever since his return from Monte Nero he had done nothing but urge upon Valdez the necessity of some immediate action; if it were only to go on this trip to the next town to secure the purchase of the revolver, at least that would be something accomplished. A curious restless gloom had fallen upon Dino's open countenance. It was as if he could never quite free himself from the scathing bitterness of old Andrea's reproaches. He longed for action, definite action, however distasteful. Each slow bright day which pa.s.sed seemed a long s.p.a.ce of painful suspense until he stood cleared in the old fisherman's eyes.

'He may think me a madman if he pleases. He can never think of me again as a coward,' the young man told himself bitterly. Valdez could understand nothing of this sudden change in him.

'You puzzle me, lad--and you lack patience.'

'Patience!' repeated Dino, 'and what for pray? I have read in some book that it is faith, and not prudence, which has power to move mountains. What does anything else matter so long as we have the faith?'

Valdez looked at him very gravely.

'You are sneering, my Dino. And I find that, as a rule, people who distrust or deny their own emotions are justified by many of their subsequent actions in the lack of faith. Don't do it, boy. Not to believe in others,'--the old republican's eye flashed,--'not to trust in others, is to reduce life to a mean habit,' he said.

They were sitting in Dino's own room, and the young man's gaze wandered restlessly over the walls; it seemed as if he were trying to learn by heart the position of each small familiar object.

'Why, it is like a bit of the old days back again, Valdez, to hear you lecture one!'

'Ay, lad.'

The elder man was following out his own train of thought. 'Perhaps I ought not to be so much surprised at the way it is taking hold of you.

Until one is two or three and twenty one thinks of oneself: after that one is preoccupied with life, its combinations and its issues. And life is the bigger thing of the two.'

He stood up and laid his sensitive, long-fingered, musician's hand upon Dino's shoulder. 'Then that is settled. Bring the boat around to-night; and we start early in the morning,' he said slowly. He looked hard into Dino's face, and his lips worked as if on the point of adding something. But whatever it was the words remained unspoken. He turned away, and a moment later Dino heard him wishing Sora Catarina a grave '_Buon giorno!_' as he pa.s.sed through the outer room.

Later in the day Dino had spoken to his mother about his intention of absenting himself for an expedition of two or three days to Pisa. To his surprise Sora Catarina made not the least objection.

He postponed telling her until the last possible moment, acting in this on the opinion he had once heard Drea express about an angry woman's scolding. 'When a woman's got a tongue in her head, the wise man never speaks to her until he's putting his hat on; for it's no matter how hard the wind blows so long as it blows from astern.' But Catarina had not justified this prevision.

It was easy to see that she had something on her mind from the anxious glances which she kept casting in her son's direction, but it was not until he was just at the door and ready to start that she laid down her knitting resolutely, and said: