Part 15 (1/2)

'_Corpo del diavolo!_' screamed out the hag. 'It's always so with him.

He has nothing but hard words for the trade he lives by.'

'Stay with us; stay with us,' whispered the girl, more faintly.

'Thou mightst have a worse offer, lad; for who can tell what's in thee?

I warrant me, thou 'It never be great at jumping tricks,' said Babbo.

'Wilt stay?' said Marietta, as her eyes swam in tears.

'I will,' said Gerald, with a glance that made her cheek crimson.

CHAPTER XIII. A CONTRACT

I am not certain that a great 'Impressario' of Paris or London would have deemed the doc.u.ment which bound Gerald to his new master a very formal instrument. But there was a doc.u.ment. It was written on a fly-leaf of old Babbo's Breviary, and set forth duly that for certain services to be afterward detailed, '_un certo Gherardi_'--so was he called--was to eat, and drink, and be clothed; always providing that there was meat, and drink, and wearables to give him; with certain benefices--small contingent remainders--to accrue when times were prosperous and patrons generous, and all this for the term of a twelvemonth. Donna Gaetana stoutly fought for five years, then three, and then two: but she was beaten in all her amendments, though she argued her case ably. She showed, with a force derived from great experience, that theirs was a profession wherein there was much to learn; that the initial stages developed very few of those gifts which won popular applause; that, consequently, the neophyte was anything but a profitable colleague; and it was only when his education was perfected that he could be expected to repay the cost of his early instruction.

'At the end of a year,' to borrow her own forcible language, 'he 'll have smashed a dozen basins and broken twenty poles, and he 'll just be as stiff in the back as you see him today.'

'He 'll have had enough of a weary life ere that,' muttered the Babbo.

'What have _you_ to complain of, I 'd like to know?' asked she fiercely; 'you that sit there all day like a prince on a throne, never so much as giving a blast of a horn or a beat on the drum; but pulling a few cords for your puppets, and making them patter about the stage while you tell over the self-same story I heard forty years ago. Ah, if it was Pierno!

that was something indeed to hear! He came out with something new every evening--droll fellow that he was--and could make the people laugh till the Piazza rung again.'

'Well, well,' sighed Babbo, 'his drollery has cost him something. He cut a jest upon the Cardinal Balfi, and they sent him to Molo di Gaeta, to work at the galleys. My pulcinello may be stupid, but will not make me finish my days in chains.'

Whether Marietta feared the effect these domestic discussions might produce upon Gerald, newly come as he was among them, or that she desired to talk with him more at her ease, she strolled away into the wood, giving one lingering glance as she left the place to bid him follow. The youth was not loth to accept the hint, and soon overtook her.

'And so,' said she, taking his hand between both her own, 'you _will_ stay?'

'I have promised it,' replied Gerald.

'All for me, all for me, as the little song says.'

'I never heard it. Will you sing it, Marietta?' said he, placing his arm around her waist.

'I 'll go and fetch my guitar, then,' said she, and bounding away, was soon once more beside him, sweeping her fingers over the cords as she came.

'It's nothing of a song, either words or music; but I picked it up at Capri, and it reminds me of that sweet spot.' So saying, and after a little prelude, she sang the canzonette, of which the following words are a rude version:

'I know a bark on a moonlit sea, Pescator! Pescator!

There's one in that bark a-thinking of me, Oh, Pescator!

And while his light boat steals along, Pescator! Pescator!

He murmurs my name in his evening song, Oh, Pescator!

He prays the Madonna above my head, Pescator! Pescator!

To bring sweet dreams around my bed, Oh, Pescator!

And when the morning breaks on sh.o.r.e, I'll kneel and pray for my Pescator, Who ventures alone on the stormy sea, All for me! all for me!'!!!!