Part 21 (1/2)
”Then Pasquale must get me a pair of crutches,” replied Zorzi. ”I cannot lie on my back because I have hurt one foot. I must tend the furnace, I must go on with my work, I must make the tests, I must-”
He stopped short and bit his lip, turning white again as a spasm of excruciating pain shot along his right side, from his foot upwards. Marietta bent over him, full of anxiety.
”You are suffering!” she said tenderly. ”You must not try to move.”
”It is nothing,” he answered through his closed teeth. ”It will pa.s.s, I daresay.”
”It will not pa.s.s to-day,” said Nella. ”But I will bring you some syrup of poppies. That will make you sleep.”
Marietta seemed to feel the pain herself. She smoothed the leathern cus.h.i.+on under his head as well as she could, and softly touched his forehead. It was hot and dry now.
”He is feverish,” she said to Nella anxiously.
”I will bring him barley water with the syrup of poppies. What do you expect? Do you think that such a wound and such a burn are cooling to the blood, and refres.h.i.+ng to the brain? The man is badly hurt. Of course he is feverish. He ought to be in his bed, like a decent Christian.”
”Some one must help me with the work,” said Zorzi faintly.
”There is no one but me,” answered Marietta after a moment's pause.
”You?” cried Nella, greatly scandalised.
Even Pasquale stared at Marietta in silent astonishment.
”Yes,” she said quietly. ”There is no one else who knows enough about my father's work.”
”That is true,” said Zorzi. ”But you cannot come here and work with me.”
Marietta turned away and walked to the window. In her thin dress she stood there a few minutes, like a slender lily, all white and gold in the summer light.
”It is out of the question!” protested Nella. ”Her brother will never allow her to come. He will lock her up in her own room for safety, till the master comes home.”
”I think I shall always do just what I think right,” said Marietta quietly, as if to herself.
”Lord!” cried Nella. ”The young lady is going mad!”
Nella was gathering together the remains of the things she had brought. Exhausted by the pain he had suffered, and by the efforts he had made to hide it, Zorzi lay on his back, looking with half-closed eyes at the graceful outline of the girl's figure, and vaguely wis.h.i.+ng that she would never move, and that he might be allowed to die while quietly gazing at her.
”Lady,” said Pasquale at last, and rather timidly, ”I will take good care of him. I will get him crutches to-morrow. I will come in the daytime and keep the fire burning for him.”
”It would be far better to let it go out,” observed Nella, with much sense.
”But the experiments!” cried Zorzi, suddenly coming back from his dream. ”I have promised the master to carry them out.”
”You see what comes of your gla.s.s-working,” retorted Nella, pointing to his bandaged foot.
”How did it happen?” asked Marietta suddenly. ”How did you do it?”
”It was done for him,” said Pasquale, ”and may the Last Judgment come a hundred times over for him who did it!”
His intention was clearer than his words.