Part 13 (1/2)
There a small villa, standing by itself, shone gaudily in the heart of the blackness. From its open windows a yellow flood of light streamed out, and besides the light, the music of a single violin and the rhythmical beat of feet. There were other noises too, such as the popping of corks, and much laughter.
Outside the villa, and beyond the range of its light, a man and a boy sat patient and silent. The man for his sole clothing wore a sack, but a dark cloak lay on the ground beside him. With his hands he continually tested a cord twisted from palmetto fibres, as though doubtful of its strength. At length the door of the villa opened.
”Who comes out?” asked the man.
”A man and a woman,” answered the boy.
”Describe the man to me.”
”Big, fat--”
”That is enough.”
The man and the woman pa.s.sed through the little garden of the villa, and walked down across the Sok towards the city gate. The door opened again and again. There was a continual sound of leave-taking in different languages, mostly German and French, and between the man and the boy the same dialogue was repeated and repeated. Some wore evening dress, others did not. Some walked across the Sok, others rode.
”They are all gone,” said the boy.
”Wait,” commanded the man.
”They are putting out the lights.”
”Are all the lights out?”
”No, one light is burning.”
”Wait!”
The door opened again, and two men in evening dress came out on to the steps.
”There are two men,” said the boy, ”but only one wears a hat.”
”Describe him to me.”
”He is not tall, he is thin, but I cannot see his face for his hat.”
”Look! look well!”
”He goes back into the house. He takes off his hat. Wait! He is smoking. He strikes a match and holds it to his mouth. I can see him now.”
”Well! Of what colour is his hair?”
”Very fair--yellow. His face is round, his eyes are light.”
The man in the sack ceased from his questions, but he gave no sign of either approval or disappointment. He sat still in the darkness until a voice from the little garden cried out with a French accent: ”I cannot think what has come to the beast. He has got loose. And he was hobbled, Jeremy. You did hobble him, _hein?_”
The boy began to laugh. ”The little fat Christian is looking for the mule in the garden,” said he. ”Hus.h.!.+” whispered the man, laying his hand upon the boy's mouth. ”Listen! What does the other answer? Listen for his voice.”
”He does not answer,” returned the boy. ”He leans against the door, and smokes and waits, while the little fat Room searches for the mule.”
”Help to find the mule!”
The boy laughed again, rose from the ground, and disappeared into the darkness. In a few minutes he returned, driving the mule in front of him. He drove it through the wicket of the garden. A few words pa.s.sed between the little Frenchman and the boy. Then the boy came back to the man seated patiently outside the rim of the villa's lights.