THE ADVICE
Under these conditions it was a pleasure and relief to Mrs. Menotti to
see the pastor walking up the garden path. He came frequently to
inquire after the health of the little one. As usual he was dressed in
his long black coat.
"Silvio, the pastor is coming; isn't that nice?" said Mrs. Menotti, as
she went to the door to meet him.
"I don't want to see him. I wish it were Stineli," said Silvio,
pouting. Then seeing that the pastor had heard him, he covered his
head with the bedclothes.
"My little boy is out of humor to-day, and I am sure he didn't mean
what he said," apologized the mother.
They heard the boy under the covers say, "I did mean it."
The pastor must have suspected where the voice came from, for he
walked straight over to the bed, although there was not a bit of
Silvio in sight. He said: "God bless you, my son, how are you feeling,
and why do you hide yourself like a little fox? Creep out of there and
tell me what you mean by Stineli."
Instantly Silvio's head was out and he said, "Rico's Stineli."
"You must be seated, pastor," said Mrs. Menotti. "I will tell you what
Silvio means, for I want your advice very much."
Mrs. Menotti recited in detail all that she knew about Stineli, the
reason why they wished for her, and the obstacles in the way of
getting her. "I have thought," she said, "that it might be a good
thing for the girl to get away from those wicked people, and I wonder
if you can think of a safe way to bring her here."
"I think," said the pastor, "that you have been misinformed about
those people in the mountains. I am sure that there are kind-hearted
men and women living there as well as here. People travel so much in
these days that I am sure that it cannot be much of a task to get up
there. One thing I am positive about is that the journey can be taken
in absolute safety. I know some live-stock dealers who regularly make
the trip from Bergamo to the mountains, and who will be able to tell
me all about it. Since you are interested, I will see one of the men
as soon as I go to Bergamo and I will let you know when I return."
Silvio's eyes had grown larger as the pastor spoke, and he began to
feel a great respect for the man who could so ably take his part. When
the pastor extended his hand to Silvio in parting, the boy fairly
plunged his little palm into the larger one, as much as to say, "You
deserve it now."
Weeks passed by as Mrs. Menotti waited to hear further news from the
minister, but Silvio's patience did not again fail him. He felt sure
that the good man would help him to get what he wished.
When Rico heard that there was hope of his being sent for Stineli, he
forgot that he had ever been sad. The expectation of having her there
to enjoy the beautiful scenes and to share his companionship fairly
made the world over for him. His serious expression gave way to a
happy one, and his purpose so animated him that it added a new charm
to his manner. He went often to see Silvio, and took pleasure in
entertaining him by relating incidents of his active life among the
people with whom he lived. He stopped playing the dreamy airs and
substituted those more suited to his present mood. He played so well
by this time that Mrs. Menotti was proud of his ability, and she often
gave up a walk in order to listen to him. It was here, with those who
loved him, that Rico enjoyed the music he had learned. The only regret
of the day came when he had to bid them good night and go away, for it
always brought afresh the longing for a home of his own.
The change in Rico was noticed at the hotel where he lived. The
landlady was much astonished one morning to have him ask her to hire
some one else to care for the chickens and outbuildings. He thought
that he had performed those duties as long as was necessary, and he
preferred to be released also from blacking shoes and from similar
work. The landlady remarked that he was indeed getting fastidious, but
she was too wise to remonstrate, for she knew that there would still
be enough for him to do.
Mrs. Menotti had liberally provided Rico with wearing apparel. She
selected as carefully in material and workmanship as if he were her
own child. The landlady said that he always went about looking like a
little prince, and she meant to find no fault in regard to the work he
chose to do. "I am sure," she said to her husband, "that since he
brings so much money from the dances where he plays, I ought not to
object to the slight expense of hiring a boy to do the menial work
about the house and garden. Rico has been a credit to us so far."
The years had passed rapidly since Rico came to Peschiera. The vague,
dreamy look in his eyes had given place to one of purpose and
determination. He had the appearance of one much older than he was.
Another autumn was at hand. The purple grapes were temptingly ripe on
the vines, and the oleander blossoms sparkled in the sunshine. One
morning, about the usual time for Rico to arrive at Mrs. Menotti's,
Silvio was listening for his step on the garden walk. He heard the
gate open, but when he raised himself to look, there was the pastor
instead of Rico! Silvio did not hide under the covers; instead, he
clapped his hands, shouting, "Mamma, the pastor is here," and
stretched his arms to him as soon as he entered the room.
This cordial welcome pleased the minister, and he went directly to
Silvio's bed, although he had seen the mother gathering some figs in
the garden. He took the little one in his arms and said, "How is our
Silvio to-day?"
"Well, thank you. When can Rico go?"
The good man laughed. "To-morrow morning, my son; he is to go at five
o'clock," he answered.
Later the pastor explained to Mrs. Menotti that he had just returned
from Bergamo, where he had spent a few days. He had looked up a stock
dealer, according to his promise, and found that the man had made
regular trips to the mountains for the last thirty years; every bit of
the way that Rico would have to go was familiar to him. It so happened
that he had made his plans to go up again, and if they would send Rico
on the early morning train, he would take him along and see that he
was well cared for; moreover, he had said that as he was acquainted
with all the coachmen and conductors on the way, he would arrange for
a safe return trip, so that the young travelers could not possibly go
astray.
"I wish that I could be certain that no harm would come to Rico," said
Mrs. Menotti to the pastor, as she accompanied him to the gate on his
departure that morning.
"You have no reasonable cause for worry," replied the pastor. "Let the
child go in peace, and we will pray God to bless the journey."
Just at this moment Rico came in sight. Silvio saw him from the
doorway and shouted: "Don't tell him! Please don't tell him! I want to
tell him myself. Come, Rico; I have something wonderful to tell you."
Mrs. Menotti left the boys alone while she packed some things for the
journey. In a large traveling bag she put a great piece of smoked ham,
a loaf of fresh bread, a package of dried fruit, some figs fresh from
the garden, and a bottle of her best fruit juice wrapped in a napkin;
next came shirts, stockings, shoes, handkerchiefs, and various other
things, so that one might suppose that Rico were going for a month's
stay instead of a week.
"How much I have learned to care for that boy," she thought, as she
looked about to make sure that nothing had been forgotten, and her
heart sent up a silent prayer for a safe journey.
"I think you had better take this bag to the station now, Rico," she
said to him when she came downstairs. "Silvio has told you that you
are to go on the early train, and you will wish to explain matters to
the landlady. You must ask her if it greatly inconveniences her to let
you go so soon."
Rico was astonished to find that he was expected to take a traveling
bag of such huge proportions, but knowing that loving hands had
prepared it, he did not remonstrate, but took it gladly and did as he
was directed.
When Rico told the landlady that the pastor had planned for him to go
to the mountains in the morning to get Stineli, she took it for
granted that the girl was his sister, and inferred that the sister
would live with them. Rico's statement that Stineli was to live with
Mrs. Menotti undeceived her. It was a disappointment, but she gave her
consent, feeling thankful to Mrs. Menotti for not having tried to get
Rico.
"It must be that Rico likes it here," said the landlady to some guests
that evening, "because he is going back to get his sister." She meant
to let those people in the hills know how good a place the boy had, so
she packed a large basket with sausages, cheese, and boiled eggs, and
spread a loaf of bread with fresh butter, saying: "You mustn't be
hungry on the trip. If I put up more than you need, they will no
doubt be glad to have some up there; besides, you must have something
on the way back, for you will surely come back to me, won't you,
Rico?"
"In a week I will be here again," said Rico. He took his violin and
went over to bid Silvio and the mother good-by. He asked them to care
for his violin, for he would not have dared to intrust it to any one
else. Rico could not spend the evening with them, because he was
expected to go to bed early. Mrs. Menotti's motherly farewell made his
heart go out to her in gratitude, and Silvio's "Come back soon" rang
in his ears again and again as he walked through the darkness to the
hotel.