A STROLL ON THE STRAND
"You are in a hurry, Monsieur Beppo?" arms akimbo, Nanette, standing in
an embrasure of the rampart, called out to the Governor's man as he
passed by.
"Ah, Mistress Nanette," Beppo stopped readily enough, "I didn't see you
at first."
"Because you have more important matters to think of," she laughed,
showing her strong white teeth.
The fat old man looked pleased; a few days before, Nanette had flashed
a radiant smile at him from her casement, and, ever since, he had been
inclined to regard her with favor.
"Not more important, but duties that must be attended to! The wedding
hour draws near." The island girl half turned her head; a shadow
seemed to pass over the bold, sunburned features. "And her ladyship
gives to-morrow a riding party for her guests--a last celebration
before she is led to the altar. I am on my way now to arrange about
the escort."
"A riding party!" Nanette spoke quickly. "You mean on horseback?"
"How else?" said Beppo. "It is a pastime her ladyship has always been
very fond of, even as a child. In those days," not without an accent
of self-importance, "it was my privilege--"
"Do they ride far?" interrupted Nanette with ill-suppressed eagerness.
"To the old Monastery St. Ranulphe; an imposing ruin of tenth century
architecture, my dear," he added pompously.
"And where is it?"
"Off the Paris highway, some ten miles from the Mount."
"Ten miles? And the country is beautiful? Not open; sandy, like the
shore?"
"It partakes of a rugged grandeur."
"With forests around?" quickly.
"Yes," indulgently. "You like forests, Mistress Nanette?"
"When they are thick and wild--"
"Then would you like these!"
The girl asked no further questions; yet still Beppo lingered, his
glance seeming loath to withdraw from this exuberant specimen of
vigorous young womanhood. "Which way were you going, good Mistress
Nanette?" he asked finally. "On second thoughts, I have a little time
to spare and will walk along."
Nanette, looking down from the rampart toward the sands and the shore,
did not answer, and, more insinuatingly, Beppo repeated his proposal.
Nanette started.
"La, Monsieur Beppo! I--I'm afraid it wouldn't do. There's my aunt,"
tossing her head, "that careful of me! Won't even let me go walking on
the beach alone! Do _you_ ever go walking on the beach, Monsieur
Beppo?" she inquired suddenly, regarding him with an eloquent look.
"I--it has not been my custom," he murmured. "But," the fishy eyes
growing brighter, "with you--if I might accompany you--"
"Oh, I didn't mean that! No; no! Of course not! And I couldn't think
of it. My aunt--"
But when a few moments later, she turned, to walk quickly away, the
round and shining face of Beppo, watching her disappear, wore not the
look of a man who had allowed himself to be rebuffed.
Out of his sight, Nanette's expression changed to one of somber
thoughtfulness; it lingered as she entered the palace, with free swing,
mounted the steps to her mistress' apartments; was still there, when
she took a bit of embroidery from a table, and seating herself at the
window of an antechamber, bent over her task. Soon, however, she
stopped, to sweep abruptly cloth and colored silks from her lap to the
floor, and, leaning forward, her firm, brown hands clasped over her
knees, she seemed to be asking herself questions, or weighing some
problem.
"Yes; it is our only chance." In her eyes a steady glow replaced the
varying lights, and, getting up with a sudden air of determination,
Nanette crossed the room to where, near the door, stood a small desk.
Glancing quickly around, she seated herself and, reaching for paper and
pen, wrote carefully and somewhat laboriously a few words. She had
finished and was contemplating the result of her eager efforts when a
hand at the door caused her hurriedly to dash down the pen and spring
to her feet. As her aunt entered, Nanette took a few steps forward,
and, bending to pick up her work from the floor, turned partly away and
thrust the paper into the bosom of her gown.
"I came to tell you supper is ready," said Marie quietly.
At the table with her aunt the girl's manner was subdued and
deferential; she observed the nicest proprieties, and bestowed on the
other's slightest word a meed of attention calculated to soften the old
woman's attitude and suspicions. And possibly succeeded; or, it may
be, Marie's own conscience had begun to reproach her; for a number of
days had passed and nothing had as yet occurred to justify the early
apprehensions she had entertained. Under the circumstances the meal
was a little prolonged; the first shafts of twilight had entered the
courtyard and had begun to steal into the narrow chamber with darkening
effect, ere of an accord the two women pushed back their chairs.
"It gets dark early," said the girl, "or time has passed quicker than I
thought. Perhaps it was what you were telling me of the former lady of
the Mount. She must have been very beautiful!"
"She was," answered the woman; "and as good as beautiful!"
"Heigh-ho!" Nanette sighed; through the window watched the shadows
that like dark, trailing figures seemed creeping up the ancient wall to
caress and linger on green leaves of vines, bright flowers and other
living things. "But I suppose she had everything she wanted." The
girl stirred restlessly. "What sort of a man is Monsieur Beppo, aunt?"
"Beppo?" Recalled as from a long train of recollections, the woman did
not seem to notice the abruptness of the inquiry. "Oh, he is an old
and faithful servant. For almost as many years as I have been here,"
with an accent of pride, "has he served at the Mount!"
"And his moral character, aunt?" demurely.
"Monsieur Beppo has a reputation for piety, no doubt deserved!"
returned the woman, with an accent of surprise. "At any rate, he
seldom misses a mass. But why do you ask?"
"Because I met him to-day and he invited me to walk with him this
evening."
"He did?" Marie's mouth grew firmer. "And you?"
"I didn't exactly know how to refuse; he--looked so old and
respectable! I thought, too, you wouldn't mind and--I'm glad you think
so well of him, aunt."
In the gathering gloom the listener's face seemed suddenly to grow
graver; her eyes, which had returned to the girl's, expressed once more
doubt and misgiving. With her glance lifted upward, however, Nanette
did not seem to notice this quick change. A star--faint forerunner of
a multitude of waiting orbs--peeping timorously down from above the
gray, gaunt mass of stone, alone absorbed the girl's gaze and attention.
"Where were you thinking of going?" after a silence of some length the
older woman asked.
"I don't recall that Monsieur Beppo mentioned," was the low-murmured
response. "But, of course, aunt, if you object--"
"I do not know that I do," said the other slowly. "Only," as if the
thought had suddenly come to her, "what were you writing at her
ladyship's desk when I went to call you?"
"Writing?" Nanette regarded her blankly. "I don't understand you,
aunt."
"Weren't you writing something that you hid in your dress when I came?"
"No!" The girl looked full at the other; denied point-blank the
accusation. "Now that you speak of it, I believe I did step to the
desk," she answered glibly, "to look at some ornament; but as for
writing, or daring to, I should not have presumed."
A low discreet rap at the door interrupted, and, with a whispered
"There he is now!" Nanette cut short further argument by rising.
"She is not telling the truth!" For some time the woman stood looking
down in gloomy thought after the two had gone. "What does it mean?"
Moving to a peg, she took down a shawl. "What can it mean?" she asked
herself again, and, wrapping the garment about her head and shoulders,
left the room.
Half an hour later, at Beppo's side, on the beach, Nanette measured her
steps to his; listened to the old man's platitudes, and even turned a
not unwilling ear to sundry hints and innuendos of a tenderer nature.
The girl was in her most complaisant mood, and, in his role of discreet
gallant to young and blooming womanhood, the fat factotum strove to
make the most of the opportunity. He sighed; bethought him of a
sentimental tale, and carped of the beauty of the moon, then gilding
the edge of the Mount's high towers! She answered; looked; but soon
her eloquent glance swerved to the sands, dotted by desultory seekers
of cockles, or belated stragglers from the shore, and fastened itself
on a jutting point of the Mount.
Near it, before a large rock of peculiar shape, a man was engaged in
that common nocturnal labor of the locality, digging! As the couple
drew near, quickly he raised his gaze; almost at once let it fall;
engrossed in his work, continued to toss the sand and stoop over it
searchingly. But when they had gone by, once more he straightened,
and, at the same time, the girl looked back. Stalwart, black-bearded,
a sailor by his dress, the fellow made a sign, and, apparently any
doubt as to who he was vanished from Nanette's mind; for from the
fingers of the free hand she held behind her, something fluttered to
the beach.
Leaning to his implement, the man regarded the paper, but not until the
girl's low laugh was heard, as she and Master Beppo vanished in the
darkness, did he step forward and secure it.
"So! That was it!" Breathless, indignant, Marie, standing in the
black shade of one of the Mount's projections, watched the fellow read
and regard carefully the message in his hand; then tearing it, crumple
the bits and thrust them toward his pocket as he walked off. "Brazen
huzzy! But her ladyship shall know; and if she doesn't pack you off,
bag and baggage--Eh? What is that?" And springing forward, the woman
pounced upon something that lay on the sand.