Volume Ii Part 12 (1/2)

'_I_ know that boat you came in. She's a Bocca d'Arno smack, she is.

The man who owns her lives at Pisa.'

'So he does, Maso.'

Dino looked rather anxiously about him. It seemed only too probable that old Drea was making one of that blue-coated group of fishermen who were sitting a dozen paces off on a coil of old ropes, criticising the craft that pa.s.sed at this leisurely hour of the day, when the nets had already been looked after, and there was time for a pause and the smoking of pipes before the night work began. And Dino did not wish to meet the old man again. He shrank from having to feel once more the altered look of that face; all the old affection felt bruised and sore when he remembered it. He would have turned away now without further speech, but Maso detained him.

'Aren't you coming back to work in the _Bella Maria_, Dino? She's short-handed now with only Sor Drea and me. 'Twas all we could do to manage the nets this morning. I asked the Padrone if you weren't coming back soon.'

'Ay; and what did he say?' asked Dino, rather eagerly. It would be a comfort still to know that his old friend could speak kindly of him.

Taciturn Maso took off his round cap and scratched his thick, curly hair with an air of consideration. 'Well, I dunno,' he said dubiously.

'He swore at me for being a fool, as far as I can remember. But _that_ wasn't much of an answer--that wasn't. An' yet somehow I didn't seem to miss nothing.'

'But didn't he say anything? Try and remember, Maso; there's a good fellow. Didn't he say: ”Oh, Dino is going away,” or, ”Dino has other business to attend to?” He must have said something, you know.'

'Well, he did swear at me. I told you that already. But, good Lord!

some people are never satisfied unless the words come in shoals, like the mackerel when the sharks are driving 'em ash.o.r.e. An' it's Maso here, and Maso there, till I want to put my head in a bucket o' salt water; I do. That's why I like Italia to speak to me,' he added reflectively. 'She never says too much, and her words are sort o'

pretty, like the sea in a calm, when the water is just dozing and making a pleasant noise.'

'Have you seen her?--have you seen Italia to-day, Maso?' asked Dino, his heart beginning to beat faster.

'Oh, ay; that's why I came here to wait for you. I saw your boat; I knew her by the cut of her sails before she was fairly round the point yonder. But I'd ha' brought her in on a shorter tack if I'd had the steering of her--_I_ should.'

'What--what was it Italia wished you to tell me?' asked Dino, making a strong effort to control his impatience and not excite the wonder of the honest, slow-witted young fellow by his side.

'It wasn't so much of a message after all, when I think o' it. I say, Dino, you know Sora Lucia? She lives at the top of that big house in the Via Bianchi.'

'I know--I know.'

'Well, you were to go there, now, this afternoon. Sora Lucia wants to speak to you. That was what Italia told me. She told me twice. But, Lord, I'm not such a stupid as that. I can remember what _she_ says fast enough.'

'Very well, then; I'll go now,' said Dino, feeling rather disappointed.

Still it was possible that the little dressmaker might have some message for him. He turned back to inquire of Maso how it was that Italia knew of his return so exactly.

'Nay, how should _I_ know?' retorted Maso reproachfully. 'You don't suppose I asked her, do you?'

He stood on the quay staring after young De Rossi with a look of the most sincere admiration dawning in his big blue eyes. Dino was in some sort of serious sc.r.a.pe, he reflected gravely. Else why didn't he come back to the old boat? And to have time, and opportunity, and invention enough to get into a serious sc.r.a.pe was in itself a distinction in honest Maso's eyes. It was almost like being a gentleman. They got into lots o' trouble, did the Padroni.

'It all comes of his having an eddication,' he pondered enviously, leaning against the parapet and looking at Dino's back.

It was not far to the corner house in the Via Bianchi. Dino went slowly up the many stairs; it was impossible to say what he expected, but his heart beat very fast as he stopped before Lucia's door, and at first he was not sure, he could not tell, if there had been any answer to his knock.

'_Avanti, Avanti_. Come in; I cannot leave the work,' a woman's voice repeated briskly, and he opened the door. The first glance showed him that the big room was empty of what he most desired. There was no one in it but Lucia, who was standing with her back to him engaged in pressing down the folds of a gown with a hot iron.

'Oh. So that's you, Dino; is it?' she said brusquely, without turning her head.

'I came as soon as I got your message. I have only just returned from Bocca d'Arno, Sora Lucia; and I met Maso on the quay.'