Part 23 (1/2)

”He asked if I had seen the young gentleman this year, and he told me that he had not seen him since the night before he was lost. So then I knew that he was a gentleman of some kind, since he had been at the cottage. I also asked if your masters were never coming to the Roman sh.o.r.e again.”

”What did he answer?” inquired Ercole, with an air of utter indifference.

”He said an evil thing. He said that your young gentleman had gone off to foreign countries with a pretty peasant from Frascati, whose name was Regina; that it was she who had nursed him when he was ill, in some inn, and that out of grat.i.tude, and because she was very pretty, he had given her much money, and silk dresses and earrings. That is what he said.”

Ercole gazed down at Nino's bloodshot eye, which was turned to him just then.

”A girl called Regina,” Ercole grumbled, in a tone even harsher than usual.

”That is what he said. Why should he tell me one thing for another? He said that your young gentleman would perhaps come back when he was tired of Regina. And he laughed. That is all.”

A low growl from Nino interrupted the conversation. It was very low and long and then rose quickly and ended in a short bark, as the dog gathered his powerful hindquarters suddenly and raised himself, bristling all over and thrusting his sinewy forepaws out before him.

Then the growl began again, but Ercole touched him lightly with the toe of his hob-nailed boot, and the dog was instantly silent. Both men looked about, but no one was to be seen.

”There is a boat on the beach,” said Padre Francesco, who had caught the faint soft sound of the keel running upon the sand.

They both rose, Ercole picking up his gun as he did so; Nino, seeing that his master was on the alert, slunk to his heels without growling any more. A moment later a man's voice was heard calling on the other side of the tower.

”Hi! Watchman of the tower! A favour! Watchman of the tower! Hi!”

Padre Francesco turned the corner, followed by Ercole. A sailor in scanty ragged clothes and the remains of a rush hat was standing barefoot in the burning sand, with an earthen jug in his hand. A battered boat, from which all traces of paint had long since disappeared, was lying with her nose buried in the sand, not moving in the oily water. Another man was in her, very much like the first in looks.

On seeing Nino at Ercole's heels, the man who was ash.o.r.e drew back with an exclamation, as if he were going to run away, but Ercole spoke in a rea.s.suring tone.

”Be not afraid,” he said. ”This dog does not eat Christians. He gets enough to eat at home. He is not a dog, he is a lamb, and most affectionate.”

”It is an evil beast,” observed the sailor, looking at Nino. ”I am afraid.”

”What do you desire?” inquired Padre Francesco politely. ”Is it water that you wish?”

”As a favour,” answered the man, seeing that the dog did not fly at him.

”A little water to drink. We have been pulling all day; it is hot, and we have drunk what we had.”

”Come with me,” said Padre Francesco. ”Where is your vessel?”

”At Fiumicino. The master sent us on an errand to Porto d'Anzio last night and we are going back.”

”It is a long pull,” observed the watchman. ”Tell the other man to come ash.o.r.e and rest in the shade. I also have been to sea. The water is not very good here, but what there is you shall have.”

”Thank you,” said the man gratefully, and giving Nino a very wide berth as he followed Padre Francesco. ”We could have got some water at the Incastro creek, but it would have been the same as drinking the fever.”

”May the Madonna never will that you drink of it,” said Padre Francesco, as they reached the shady side of the tower. ”I see that you know the Roman sh.o.r.e.”

”It is our business,” replied the man, taking off his ragged rush hat, and rubbing his still more ragged blue cotton sleeve over his wet forehead. ”We are people of the sea, bringing wine and lemons to Civita Vecchia and taking charcoal back. Evil befall this calm weather.”

”And when it blows from the west-southwest we say, evil befall this time of storm,” said Padre Francesco, nodding wisely. ”Be seated in the shade. I will fetch water.”

”And also let us drink here, so that we may take the jug away full.”

”You shall also drink here.” The old watchman went into the tower.