IDA'S WARNING
Botzen proved to be very hot and full of smells, nor did Mrs. Morton care
for its quaint old medieval houses, but Ida's heart had begun to fail her
when she came so near the crisis, and on looking over the visitors' book
she gave a cry. 'Ah, if we had only known! It is all of no use.'
'How?' she was asked.
'That horrid Mrs. Bury!'
'There?'
'Of course she is. Only a week ago she was here. If she is at Ratzes,
of course we can do nothing.'
'And the road is _affreux_, perfectly frightful,' said Mademoiselle. 'I
have been inquiring about it. No access except upon mules. A whole
day's journey--and the hotel! Bah, it is _vilain_!'
'If Ida is bent on going she must go without me,' said Mrs. Morton.
'I--I have had enough of those horrid beasts. Ida's nonsense will be the
death of me.'
'I don't see much good in going on with that woman there,' said Ida
gloomily. 'She would be sure to stifle all inquiry.'
'A good thing too,' muttered poor, weary Mrs. Morton.
Ida turned the leaves of the visitors' book till she found the names of
Lord and Lady Northmoor, and then, growing more eager as obstructions
came in her way, and not liking to turn back as if on a fool's errand,
she suggested to Miss Gattoni that questions might be asked about their
visit. The Tyrolean patois was far beyond her, and not too
comprehensible to her friend, but there was a waiter who could speak
French, and the landlady's German was tolerable.
The milord and miladi were perfectly remembered, as well as their long
detention, but the return had been by way of Italy, so they had not
revisited Botzen with their child the next spring.
'But,' said the hostess, 'there is a young woman in the next street who
can tell you more than I. She offered herself as a nurse.'
This person was at once sent for. She was the same who had been
mentioned by Mrs. Bury, but she had exchanged the peasant costume, which
had, perhaps, only been assumed to please the English ladies, for the
townswoman's universal endeavour at French fashion, which by no means
enhanced her rather coarse beauty, which was more Italian than Austrian.
Italian was the tongue which chiefly served as a medium between her and
Miss Gattoni, though hers was not pure enough to be easily understood.
Mrs. Morton and Ida put questions which Miss Gattoni translated as best
she could, and made out as much as possible of the answers. It was
elicited that she had not been allowed to see the English miladi. All
had been settled by the signora who came yearly, and they had rejected
her after all her trouble; the doctor had recommended her, and though her
_creatura_ would have been just the right age, and that little
_ipocrila's_ child was older, ever so much older--she spread out her
hands to indicate infinity.
'Ah!' said Ida, 'I always thought so.'
'Ask her how much older,' demanded Mrs. Morton.
The replies varied from nearly _un sanestre_ to _tre settimane_--and no
more could be made of that question.
'Where was the foster-child?'
Again the woman threw up her hands to indicate that she had no
notion--what was it to her? She could not tell if it were alive or dead;
but (upon a leading question) it had not been seen since Hedwige's
departure nor after return. Was it boy or girl? and, after some
hesitation, it was declared to have been _un maschio_.
There was more, which nobody quite understood, but which sounded abusive,
and they were glad to get rid of her with a couple of _thalers_.
'Well?' said Ida triumphantly.
'Well?' echoed her mother in a different tone. 'I don't know what you
were all saying, but I'm sure of this, that that woman was only looking
to see what you wanted her to say. I watched the cunning look of her
eyes, and I would not give that for her word,' with a gesture of her
fingers.
'But, ma, you didn't understand! Nothing could be plainer. The doctor
recommended her, and sent her over in proper time, but she never saw any
one but Mrs. Bury, who, no doubt, had made her arrangements. Then this
other woman's child was older--nobody knows how much--but we always
agreed that nobody could believe Mite, as they call him, was as young as
they said. And then that other child was a boy, and it has vanished.'
'I don't believe she knew.'
'No, I do not think she did,' chimed in Miss Gattoni. 'This _canaille_
will say anything!'
'I believe the woman,' said Ida obstinately. 'Her evidence chimes in
with all my former conclusions.'
The older ladies both had a strong misgiving that the conclusions had
formed the evidence, and Mrs. Morton, though she had listened all along
to Ida's grumbling, was perfectly appalled at the notion of bringing such
a ridiculous accusation against the brother-in-law, against whom she
might indeed murmur, but whom she knew to be truthful and self-denying.
She ventured to represent that it was impossible to go upon this
statement without ascertaining whether the Grantzen child was alive, or
really dead and buried at Ratzes, and that the hostess of the inn would
have been better evidence, but--
He that of purpose looks beside the mark,
Might as well hoodwinked shoot as in the dark,
and Ida was certain that all the people at Ratzes had been bribed, and
that no one would dare to speak out while Mrs. Bury kept guard there.
Indeed, for that lady to guess at such suspicions and inquiries would
have been so dreadful that Ratzes was out of the question, much to the
relief of the elders, dragged along by the masterful maiden against their
better judgment, though indeed Miss Gattoni gave as much sympathy in her
_tete-a-tetes_ with Ida as she did to her mother in their consultations.
They were made to interview the doctor, but he knew as little about the
matter as the disappointed _balia_, and professed to know much less. In
point of fact, though he had been called in after the accident, Mrs. Bury
had not thought much of his skill, and had not promoted after-visits.
There had not been time to summon him when the birth took place, and Mrs.
Bury thought her experience more useful afterwards than his treatment was
likely to be. So he was a slighted and offended man, whose testimony,
given in good German, only declared the secretiveness, self-sufficiency,
and hard-neckedness of Englander!
And Ida's state of mind much resembled that of the public when resolved
to believe in the warming-pan.