Part 84 (2/2)

”I will make a light,” said Pancrazio, taking a lamp from the mantel-piece, and proceeding to wind it up.

Ciccio stood behind Alvina, silent. He had put down the bread and valise on a wooden chest. She turned to him.

”It's a beautiful room,” she said.

Which, with its high, vaulted roof, its dirty whitewash, its great black chimney, it really was. But Ciccio did not understand. He smiled gloomily.

The lamp was lighted. Alvina looked round in wonder.

”Now I will make a fire. You, Ciccio, will help Giovanni with the donkey,” said Pancrazio, scuttling with the lantern.

Alvina looked at the room. There was a wooden settle in front of the hearth, stretching its back to the room. There was a little table under a square, recessed window, on whose sloping ledge were newspapers, scattered letters, nails and a hammer. On the table were dried beans and two maize cobs. In a corner were shelves, with two chipped enamel plates, and a small table underneath, on which stood a bucket of water with a dipper. Then there was a wooden chest, two little chairs, and a litter of f.a.ggots, cane, vine-twigs, bare maize-hubs, oak-twigs filling the corner by the hearth.

Pancrazio came scrambling in with fresh f.a.ggots.

”They have not done what I told them, the tiresome people!” he said.

”I told them to make a fire and prepare the house. You will be uncomfortable in my poor home. I have no woman, nothing, everything is wrong--”

He broke the pieces of cane and kindled them in the hearth. Soon there was a good blaze. Ciccio came in with the bags and the food.

”I had better go upstairs and take my things off,” said Alvina. ”I am so hungry.”

”You had better keep your coat on,” said Pancrazio. ”The room is cold.” Which it was, ice-cold. She shuddered a little. She took off her hat and fur.

”Shall we fry some meat?” said Pancrazio.

He took a frying-pan, found lard in the wooden chest--it was the food-chest--and proceeded to fry pieces of meat in a frying-pan over the fire. Alvina wanted to lay the table. But there was no cloth.

”We will sit here, as I do, to eat,” said Pancrazio. He produced two enamel plates and one soup-plate, three penny iron forks and two old knives, and a little grey, coa.r.s.e salt in a wooden bowl. These he placed on the seat of the settle in front of the fire. Ciccio was silent.

The settle was dark and greasy. Alvina feared for her clothes. But she sat with her enamel plate and her impossible fork, a piece of meat and a chunk of bread, and ate. It was difficult--but the food was good, and the fire blazed. Only there was a film of wood-smoke in the room, rather smarting. Ciccio sat on the settle beside her, and ate in large mouthfuls.

”I think it's fun,” said Alvina.

He looked at her with dark, haunted, gloomy eyes. She wondered what was the matter with him.

”Don't you think it's fun?” she said, smiling.

He smiled slowly.

”You won't like it,” he said.

”Why not?” she cried, in panic lest he prophesied truly.

Pancrazio scuttled in and out with the lantern. He brought wrinkled pears, and green, round grapes, and walnuts, on a white cloth, and presented them.

”I think my pears are still good,” he said. ”You must eat them, and excuse my uncomfortable house.”

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