Part 25 (1/2)
”I think it's an abominable shame!” declared Carmel, turning upon Ernesto with blazing eyes. ”Daddy never meant you to bind him and bring him up here like that--only to frighten him for a minute on the road.
You know he did! I'll never forgive you, Ernesto! _Never!_ If this is a specimen of our Sicilian hospitality, Everard won't want to come to the Casa Bianca again! My cousins didn't treat me to practical jokes at the Chase! They gave me an English welcome!”
”Let me make peace!” said Signora Greville, coming forward and taking Everard's hand in her pretty Italian fas.h.i.+on. ”Our guest knows, I hope, that we meant no discourtesy to him. For all he has suffered we claim his pardon. Is it not so, Ernesto and Vittore? He has, indeed, shown us how a brave Englishman can behave in a position of danger, and we admire his courage. I think we ought to congratulate him on the splendid way he has taken a joke which certainly went much farther than was intended.”
At that, everybody crowded round Everard, making pretty speeches, for all realized that the mock adventure had been real enough to him at the time.
”I should faint if I thought I were taken by a brigand!” s.h.i.+vered Aimee.
”I should die outright!” declared Rosalia.
”Your property is back in your pocket with my sincere apologies,”
murmured Vittore, restoring the watch and other valuables.
It was not until the next morning that Everard had an opportunity to give Carmel the peasant necklace for which he had ventured down to Targia Vecchia. Her delight was immense.
”Why, it's the very one I wanted!” she exclaimed. ”It will be the gem of my whole collection. I shall always call it the Brigand Necklace, after this. You went through a great deal to bring it back, Everard!”
”Oh, never mind! That's all over and finished with now. I'm going to forget it!”
”You may forget it, but I shan't! I shall always remember how you called them cowards, and asked for a sporting chance. I must say I like men to be able to take care of themselves. As for Signor Ernesto, I haven't forgiven him yet, and on the whole I'm not altogether quite sure that I ever shall!”
CHAPTER XIX
At Palermo
It was perhaps to atone for the indignities which Everard had suffered at the hands of Ernesto and Vittore, in the practical joke that they had played upon him, that Signor Trapani proposed to take the Ingletons for a few days' trip to Palermo. He declared he could not allow them to leave Sicily without a peep at the famous capital city, and that in motoring there they could also see some of the sights upon the way.
Though they were perfectly happy at Casa Bianca, a visit to Palermo was of course a great attraction, and the party, including Cousin Clare and Mr. Stacey, were all excitement and smiles.
”We're to stay at an hotel,” announced Carmel, ”and Ernesto and Vittore are to have dinner with us.”
”And Douglas, too,” added Dulcie, with satisfaction. ”I heard your uncle say he had asked him.”
”Oh, did he? I'm so glad. Now we shall have plenty of cavaliers to take us about. What fun it will be! You'll just love Palermo. I always sing a jubilee when Mother has a shopping expedition there and wants me to go with her.”
”Hurrah for to-morrow, then!” proclaimed Dulcie.
Taking only a little light luggage the lucky travelers packed themselves into two cars and set off on their pleasure-jaunt. Leaving the sea they turned inland to the mountain region, and with a short stop at Centuripe, to get the magnificent view of Etna, they motored on to Castrogiovanni, a wonderful old town set, like an eagle's nest, on the very crest of a high hill, and full of relics of Greeks, Carthaginians, Romans, Saracens, and Normans, who had held its fortress in turns. It looked the real brigand stronghold of old stories, as impregnable as some of our Scottish castles and a fit subject for legend.
One feature of the Sicilian landscape greatly struck the Ingletons.
”There are no cottages scattered about like we have in England,”
remarked Lilias. ”Do the people who work in the fields all live in these little towns on the tops of hills? Why don't they have their homes close to their work?”
”It's an old Sicilian custom,” explained Signor Trapani. ”In former days there were so many robbers that n.o.body would have dared to live alone in a cottage in the open country; even now it would scarcely be thought wise, and the peasants feel far safer at night in a town, with their neighbors to help to protect them and their valuables. A Sicilian peasant would rather walk many miles to his fields than run the risk of brigands stealing his savings. Nearly everybody keeps a few goats, and each morning the goatherd blows a horn and leads the flock of the whole town out to pasture. He keeps guard over them all day and brings them back in the evening, when each trots home to its own stable to be milked. The children often wait at the city gate to welcome the goats back, and you can see quite affectionate little meetings between them.”
”Kids welcoming kids!” murmured Dulcie, who clung to schoolgirl slang, rather to the consternation of Signor Trapani, who did not always understand it, and much to the indignation of Cousin Clare, who was continually urging her to speak pure English.