Part 49 (1/2)
CHAPTER XXIV
LUIGI'S HOSPITALITY
The smuggler's eyes expressed the limits of amazement. He stared at the newcomer. He turned his glance to Aylmer, as if he sought information there. He brought it back and focussed it upon the dripping _soutane_.
He made inarticulate noises of incredulity; he flung up his hands with gestures of bewilderment.
”You arrive--how, reverend father?” he cried. ”What have you used? The wings of a bird, the fins of a fish?”
”The eyes of a G.o.d-fearing priest,” retorted Padre Sigismondi. ”I saw signals being flashed from your island. With Emmanuele here,” he pointed to the dripping figure which still lay upon the stones, ”I was pa.s.sing your abode of sin on my way to Stromboli. I had, in fact, no choice--I was being blown there. I saw the signals, I say, but read no meaning in them. Some unconfessed wretch needs extreme unction, say I to myself, and steered among the teeth of your reefs. One of our sweeps broke at a critical moment. This cavalier here leaped in to our rescue. I have not properly thanked him yet because I am awaiting explanation of the words I heard as you thrust yourself upon us. Prisoners, did you say? It must be a cataclysm of morality which has made you a gaoler or a judge, my wonderful Luigi.”
The smuggler s.h.i.+vered and blenched.
”This man and this woman are in a sense prisoners,” he allowed. ”They are not on good terms with our other--guests. We have had to restrain their liberties.”
Padre Sigismondi regarded him fixedly. The unfortunate Luigi's tongue protruded with nervousness; his cheek muscles twitched. The priest shrugged his shoulders as he turned to Aylmer.
”I arrive unceremoniously,” he smiled, ”but not inopportunely, it seems.
May I have your version of the extraordinary circ.u.mstances in which I find the Signora and yourself, Signor?”
Aylmer smiled back at him.
”They are simple enough, father,” he answered. ”We are prisoners; there is no need for our friend here to beat about the bush. At the instigation of--of a certain enemy of ours, in whose pay the good Luigi finds himself, we were kidnapped from the port of Melilla and brought here. It was our signals you saw. May I add my profound regrets at the misfortune you experienced in answering them?”
”The Church is a boat to the bad, but possibly a gainer in righteousness,” said the other. ”I may be the means of preventing some irretrievable sin on the part of these islanders. You were being held to ransom, do I understand?”
The dripping figure at his feet stirred and rose weakly to a standing posture. A cackle of laughter came from between the chattering teeth.
”The gaol-bird as gaoler--eh, but that is a rib-rending jest, Luigi. You have imagination, _amico_, imagination and, it seems, opportunity. You will go far!”
The sailor turned his wrinkled face on the abashed smuggler; his white teeth flashed a prodigious smile. He seemed to find nothing disconcerting in the situation, but desired to show quickness in seizing its points of humor.
”He will certainly go far, my good Emmanuele,” agreed Padre Sigismondi, drily. ”As far as the penal station on Procida if I am not hugely mistaken, or unless he shows a most improbable repentance. What have we here? Other warders in this private penitentiary?”
Footsteps clattered along the tiny causeway. With a rush, half a dozen figures swept up to them through the moonlight, Landon at their head.
This was the answer to Signor Luigi's frantic shouts.
The rush wavered, hesitated, came to a halt. The islanders recognized the grim, aggressive form in the _soutane_ with sharp exclamations of amazement and alarm. Landon, without their experience, felt the impalpable infection of their fear. He, too, halted, staring mistrustfully at the priest and his companions.
He shook Luigi by the elbow.
”What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
The smuggler made a deferential outward movement of his palms.
”It is a visit, an unexpected visit, from our--our vicar,” he explained.
”It is the Padre Sigi--Sigismondi, I should say.”
The padre stepped forward and spoke in crisp, imperturbable tones.