LAKE GARDA
Rico walked a few paces away from the station and looked about him.
This large white building, the open space in front of it, the winding
street in the distance, were all strange to him. He was positive that
he had never seen them before. He had to confess to himself, "I have
not come to the right place, after all."
He sadly followed along the path between the trees until he came to a
turn in the road which brought him to a sudden standstill, for before
him lay the sky-blue lake, the water shimmering in the sunshine.
Yonder were the towering hills in the distance, with the faint
outlines of the white dwellings in the valleys. How familiar it
seemed! Many a time he had stood just where he was at present. He
recognized the trees, but where was the house? Oh, there should be a
little white house near by, but it was gone! There was the street that
led to it. How well he remembered it! There were the red flowers in
the abundance he had been used to seeing. There ought to be a bridge a
little farther down. In his eagerness to see it he ran toward it, and
sure enough, it was there, just as memory had pictured it.
A flood of recollections overpowered him. It was here that a lovely,
loving woman had held him by the hand,--his mother. In fancy he saw
her face distinctly and heard the sweet words of her lips, and
understood anew the love revealed in her youthful eyes. Throwing
himself upon the grass, Rico wept bitterly.
The sun was setting before he dried his eyes and began to think of
what he should do. The golden evening glow that his memory had
cherished was on the water, the hills had taken the violet tints, and
the fragrance of the roses perfumed the air. The beauty of the place
comforted him, and he thought, "How I wish Stineli could see this!"
When Rico left the bridge, the sun had set and the light of day was
fast fading away into darkness. It seemed more like a home than
anything he had known for years, and he reluctantly left the place.
His first purpose was to take a closer look at the red flowers that he
had noticed in the garden. He found a path leading from the street,
where he could obtain a good view of them. It seemed to Rico that
there must be bushels of the buds among the trees, shrubs, and vines.
Again he thought, "If only Stineli could see them!"
Rico could see a sturdy boy in the garden, cutting grapes from the
vines. The side door of the attractive white house in front of the
garden stood wide open. The young man noticed Rico and stopped his
whistling to say, "Come here and play a tune if you can." This was
said in Italian, and Rico wondered at his own understanding of the
words, for he was sure that he could not _speak_ like that. After the
young man had asked some questions and discovered that Rico could not
answer, he directed him to the house to play there.
Rico stopped at the door and played and sang Stineli's song from
beginning to end. Through the open door he noticed a lady sitting
beside a child's bed, sewing. When Rico was about to turn away, a
little pale face was raised from the pillow and he heard a voice say,
"Play some more, please."
Rico played another melody and again turned to go, but the child
repeated, "Play some more."
So it happened time after time until Rico had played all the tunes he
knew. When the little boy saw that Rico was really going away, he
began to cry, begging Rico to come to him. The lady came out, offering
a coin to Rico, who had played for the child with no thought of money.
Then it occurred to him again that Stineli had said that people would
give him something if he played for them, so he took it and put it
into his pocket.
The lady asked where Rico came from and where he was going, but he
could not answer.
"Have you parents here?" she continued, and Rico shook his head in
reply, thus telling her that he could understand. Then she asked if he
were all alone, and Rico nodded. "Then where will you go?" she
questioned, and Rico shook his head with a little gesture to indicate
that he did not know.
The lady called the young man from the garden, and Rico heard her
direct him to take the child to the hotel for the night, and to tell
the landlord that the bill for lodging and supper was to be sent to
her. "Perhaps the people at the hotel can understand the language he
speaks," she said. "He must have been away a long time to forget so
much. He is too young to be out alone, and I want you to tell them to
show him the way he wishes to go in the morning."
The little invalid was still crying, and the mother at last asked Rico
if he would come to see him in the morning. As soon as he saw Rico nod
his assent, the boy was satisfied.
It was about ten minutes' walk to the city proper. The young man led
Rico directly to the landlady and explained his errand. In the
meantime Rico noticed that the living room was filled with men who
were smoking and talking. He heard the landlady dismiss the boy with,
"Very well, I will do as you say."
She looked Rico over from head to foot as she asked him where he came
from. He answered in German that he had come down the Maloja and could
understand what the people said, although he could not speak in the
same way. The landlord, who understood German, told Rico that he had
been up to the mountains himself.
"We will talk about it later," he said, "if you will play for the
guests a few moments first." They had called for music as soon as they
saw the violin.
Rico was very tired, but he obediently played and sang, beginning as
usual with Stineli's song. None of the guests understood German, and
they talked and laughed during the song. As soon as he had finished,
some one called for a lively tune, and Rico tried to think of
something they might like. He had never heard the music of the dance
halls, but he finally thought of
"Una sera
In Peschiera."
The men joined Rico in the singing, much to his surprise, and they
made the strongest chorus he had ever heard. It was fine to lead so
many voices, and he played through the whole number of verses.
When the song was ended, there was such a jubilee that Rico could not
imagine what it meant. They surrounded him, shaking his hands and
patting his shoulders, and then asked him to drink with them.
Rico was bewildered, for he could not understand their surprise that
he, a stranger, should know their song,--the song that no one outside
their locality would care to learn. Moreover, he had played it with
feeling, like a loyal Peschieran; hence this hilarious gratitude and
brotherly welcome.
Rico's supper, consisting of boiled rice with chicken, was brought in
and put on a corner table, and the landlady rescued him from his
embarrassment by explaining that the child must eat and rest. She led
him to the table, remaining to serve him.
Rico was indeed hungry. It seemed as if a long time had elapsed since
he had taken breakfast with his friend in the early morning, and he
had tasted nothing since. He had scarcely finished eating when he
found it almost impossible to keep awake. He had told them, in
response to questions, that he had no home and that he was going
nowhere.
"That is too bad," said the husband, kindly. "Don't worry about
anything now, for you must go to bed and get a good sleep. Perhaps
Mrs. Menotti, the lady that sent you here, will give you some work if
you go to see her to-morrow morning. I have no doubt of her helping
you, since you have no home." He did not notice that his wife was
trying to keep him from saying this.
The guests called for another song, but Rico was sent to bed, the
wife taking him up to an attic storeroom that contained a quantity of
ear corn and had its walls decorated with harnesses. In one corner,
however, stood a bed, and Rico was soon tucked away in it and asleep.
After the guests had departed, the woman said to her husband: "I don't
want you to send the boy to Mrs. Menotti. I can make him useful
myself. Didn't you notice how well he can play? They were all pleased
with him, too. Mark my words that the boy will make a better player
than any of the three that we now hire. He will learn the music
easily, and we can soon get along by hiring only two men on dance
days, for we shall have him for nothing, and we can hire him out
besides. You would be more than foolish to let him go. I like his
looks very much, and I say that we will keep him."
"Very well; I am quite willing," the husband said amiably. He could
see how well she had reasoned.