Part 8 (1/2)
”I'm glad,” he broke out in a tone that startled her. ”Glad for you. I have tried not to be a death's-head at your feast, but it has been a struggle.”
”We women see things. Martel, boy that he is, does not suspect, and yet I, who have known you so short a time, have read your secret. It is our happiness which makes you sad.”
”No, no. I'm not that sort. I share your happiness. I want it to continue.”
”If I had one wish it would be that she might care for you as I care for Martel. And who knows? Perhaps she may. You say it is impossible, yet life is full of blind ways and unseen turnings. Somehow I feel that she will.”
”You are very good,” he managed to say. Then yielding to a sudden impulse, he took her hand and kissed it. A moment later she left him, but the touch of her cool flesh against his lips remained an unforgetable impression.
Savigno appeared, yawning prodigiously.
”Dio!” he exclaimed with a grimace. ”Those cousins of hers are deadly dull; I do not blame you for escaping. And the judge, and the notary's wife, and that village doctor! Colonel Neri is a good chap, notwithstanding his mustache in which he takes so much pride. He nurses it like a child, and yet it is older than I. Poor friend of mine, you are a martyr, thus to endure for me.”
”It's tremendously interesting, particularly this part out here,”
Norvin a.s.serted. ”I saw them dancing what I took to be the tarantella a moment ago. Those peasant boys are like leaping fauns.”
”Yes, and they will continue to dance for hours yet. I fear the Donna Teresa will not retire at her usual hour. What a day it has been! It is fine to give people happiness. That is one of my new discoveries.”
”Remember to-morrow.”
”Believe me, I think of nothing else. That is why we must be going soon. We cannot wait even for the fireworks, as much as I would like to. It is a long road to Martinello and we must be up early in the morning. You do not object?”
”On the contrary, I was about to bear you off in spite of yourself.”
”Then I will have Ippolito fetch the horses.”
”Ippolito has been demonstrating the mastery of wine over matter. He is asleep in the manger.”
”Drunk? Oh, the idiot! He has the appet.i.te of a shark, but the belly of a herring. I ought to warm his soles with a cane,” declared Savigno, angrily.
”Don't be too hard on him. I suspect Lucrezia would not listen to his suit, poor chap. He's sick from unrequited pa.s.sion.”
”Very well, we will leave him to sleep it off. I couldn't be harsh with him at this time. And now we had best begin presenting our good-nights, although I hate to go.”
V
WHAT WAITED AT THE ROADSIDE
To avoid the dampening effect of an early departure the three men rode out quietly from the courtyard at the rear of the house, leaving the merrymakers to their fun.
”So, this is our last ride together,” Norvin said, as they left the valley and began the long ascent of the mountain that lay between them and Martinello.
”Yes. Henceforth we spare our horses. You see tomorrow we will take the morning train. Half of San Sebastiano will accompany us, too, and everybody will be dressed in his finest. Ricardo here, for instance, will wear his new brown suit--a glorious affair. Eh, Ricardo?”
”It would be as well to refrain from speaking,” said the overseer, gruffly. ”The road is dark. Who knows what may be waiting?”
”Nonsense! Be not always a bear. We are three armed men. I fancy Narcone, nay, even our dreadful Cardi himself, would scarcely dare molest us.”
Ferara merely grunted and continued to hold his place abreast of his employer. Norvin observed that he carried his rifle across his saddle-bow, and involuntarily s.h.i.+fted the strap of his own weapon so that it might be ready in case of an emergency. He had rebelled, somewhat, at carrying a firearm, but Martel, after making a clean breast of his troubles that first morning, had insisted, and the American had yielded even though he felt ridiculous.