It was close upon ten when Jerymn Hilliard, Jr., equipped for travel in
proper blue serge, appeared in the doorway of the Hotel du Lac. He looked
at his watch and discovered that he still had twenty minutes before the
omnibus meeting the second boat was due. He strolled across the
courtyard, paused for a moment to tease the parrot, and sauntered on to
his favourite seat in the summer-house. He had barely established himself
with a cigarette when who should appear in the gateway but Miss Constance
Wilder, of Villa Rosa, and a middle-aged man--at a glance the Signor
Papa. Jerymn Hilliard's heart doubled its beat. Why, he asked himself
excitedly, _why_ had they come?
The Signor Papa closed his green umbrella, and having dropped into a
chair--obligingly near the summer-house--took off his hat and fanned
himself. He had a tendency toward being stout, and felt the heat. The
girl, meanwhile, crossed the court and jangled the bell; she waited
two--three--minutes, then she pulled the rope again.
'Gustavo! Oh, Gustavo!'
The bell might have been rung by any one--the fisherman, the
omnibus-driver, Suor Celestina from the convent asking her everlasting
alms--and Gustavo took his time. But the voice was unmistakable; he
waited only to throw a clean napkin over his arm before hurrying to
answer.
'_Buon giorno_, signorina! Good morning, signore. It is beautiful
wea-thir, but warm. _Già_, it is warm.'
He bowed and smiled and rubbed his hands together. His moustaches, fairly
bristling with good will, turned up in a half-circle until they caressed
his nose on either side. He bustled about placing table and chairs, and
recklessly dusting them with the clean napkin. The signorina laid her
fluffy white parasol on one chair and seated herself on another, her
profile turned to the summer-house. Gustavo hovered over them, awaiting
their pleasure, the genius itself of respectful devotion. It was
Constance who gave the order--she, it might be noticed, gave most of the
orders that were given in her vicinity. She framed it in English out of
deference to Gustavo's pride in his knowledge of the language.
'A glass of _vino santo_ for the signore and _limonata_ for me. I wish to
put the sugar in myself, the last time you mixed it, Gustavo, it was all
sugar and no lemon. And bring a bowl of cracked ice--_fino_--_fino_--and
some pine nut cakes if you are sure they are fresh.'
'Sank you, signorina. _Subitissimo_!'
He was off across the court, his black coat-tails, his white napkin
streaming behind, proclaiming to all the world that he was engaged on the
Signorina Americana's bidding; for persons of lesser note he still
preserved a measure of dignity.
The young man in the summer-house had meanwhile dropped his cigarette
upon the floor and noiselessly stepped on it. He had also--with the
utmost caution lest the chair creak--shifted his position so that he
might command the profile of the girl. The entrance to the summer house
was fortunately on the other side, and in all likelihood they would not
have occasion to look within. It was eavesdropping of course, but he had
already been convicted of that yesterday, and in any case it was not such
very bad eavesdropping. The courtyard of the Hotel du Lac was public
property; he had been there first, he was there by rights as a guest of
the house; if anything, they were the interlopers. Besides, nobody talked
secrets with a head waiter. His own long conversations with Gustavo were
as open and innocent as the day; the signorina was perfectly welcome to
listen to them as much as she chose.
She was sitting with her chin in her hand, eyeing the flying coat-tails
of Gustavo, a touch of amusement in her face. Her father was eyeing her
severely.
'Constance, it is disgraceful!'
She laughed. Apparently she already knew or divined what it was that was
disgraceful, but the accusation did not appear to bother her much. Mr.
Wilder proceeded grumblingly.
'It's bad enough with those five deluded officers, but they walked into
the trap with their eyes open and it's their own affair. But look at
Gustavo; he can scarcely carry a dish without breaking it when you are
watching him. And Giuseppe--that confounded _Farfalla_ with its yellow
sails floats back and forth in front of the terrace till I am on the
point of having it scuttled as a public nuisance; and those three
washer-women and the post-office clerk and the boy who brings milk, and
Luigi and--every man, woman and child in the village of Valedolmo!'
'And my own dad as well?'
Mr. Wilder shook his head.
'I came here at your instigation for rest and relaxation--to get rid of
nervous worries, and here I find a big new worry waiting for me that I'd
never thought of having before. What if my only daughter should take it
in her head to marry one of these infernally good-looking Italian
officers?'
Constance reached over and patted his arm.
'Don't let it bother you, Dad; I assure you I won't do anything of the
sort. I should think it my duty to learn the subjunctive mood, and that
is impossible.'
Gustavo came hurrying back with a tray. He arranged the glasses, the ice,
the sugar, the cakes, with hovering, elaborate obsequiousness. The
signorina examined the ice doubtfully, then with approval.
'It's exactly right to-day, Gustavo! You got it too large the last time,
you remember.'
She stirred in some sugar and tasted it tentatively, her head on one
side. Gustavo hung upon her expression in an agony of apprehension; one
would have thought it a matter for public mourning if the lemonade were
not mixed exactly right. But apparently it was right--she nodded and
smiled--and Gustavo's expression assumed relief. Constance broke open a
pine nut cake and settled herself for conversation.
'Haven't you any guests, Gustavo?' Her eyes glanced over the empty
courtyard. 'I am afraid the hotel is not having a very prosperous
season.'
'_Grazie_, signorina. Zer never are many in summer; it is ze dead time,
but still zay come and zay go. Seven arrive last night.'
'Seven! That's nice. What are they like?'
'German mountain-climbers wif nails in zer shoes. Zey have gone to Riva
on ze first boat.'
'That's too bad--then the hotel is empty?'
'But no! Zer is an Italian signora wif two babies and a governess, and
two English ladies and an American gentleman----'
'An American gentleman?' Her tone was languidly interested. 'How long has
he been here?'
'Tree--four days.'
'Indeed--what is he like?'
'Nice--ver' nice.' (Gustavo might well say that; his pockets were lined
with the American gentleman's silver lire.) 'He talk to me always.
"Gustavo," he say, "I am all alone; I wish to be 'mused. Come and talk
Angleesh." Yes, it is true; I have no time to finish my work; I spend
whole day talking wif dis yong American gentleman. He is just a
little----' He touched his head significantly.
'Really?' She raised her eyes with an air of awakened interest. 'And how
did he happen to come to Valedolmo?'
'He come to meet his family, his sister and his--his aunt, who are going
wif him to ze Tyrollo. But zay have not arrive. Zey are in Lucerne, he
says, where zer is a lion dying, and zey wish to wait until he is dead;
zen zey come.--Yes, it is true; he tell me zat.' Gustavo tapped his head
a second time.
The signorina glanced about apprehensively.
'Is he safe, Gustavo--to be about?'
'_Si_, signorina, _sicuramente_! He is just a little simple.'
Mr. Wilder chuckled.
'Where is he, Gustavo? I think I'd like to make that young man's
acquaintance.'
'I sink, signore, he is packing his trunk. He go away to-day.'
'To-day, Gustavo?' There was audible regret in Constance's tone. 'Why is
he going?'
'It is not possible for him to stand it, signorina. Valedolmo too dam
slow.'
'Gustavo! You mustn't say that; it is very, very bad. Nice men don't say
it.'
Gustavo held his ground.
'_Si_, signorina, zat yong American gentleman say it--dam slow, no
_divertimento_.'
'He's just about right, Gustavo,' Mr. Wilder broke in. 'The next time a
young American gentleman blunders into the Hotel du Lac you send him
around to me.'
'_Si_, signore.'
Gustavo rolled his eyes toward the signorina; she continued to sip her
lemonade.
'I have told him yesterday an American family live at Villa Rosa; he say,
"All right, I go call," but--but I sink maybe you were not at home.'
'Oh!' The signorina raised her head in apparent enlightenment. 'So that
was the young man? Yes, to be sure, he came, but he said he was looking
for Prince Sartorio's villa. I am sorry you were away, father, you would
have enjoyed him; his English was excellent.--Did he tell you he saw me,
Gustavo?'
'_Si_, signorina, he tell me.'
'What did he say? Did he think I was nice?'
Gustavo looked embarrassed.
'I--I no remember, signorina.'
She laughed and to his relief changed the subject.
'Those English ladies who are staying here--what do they look like? Are
they young?'
Gustavo delivered himself of an inimitable gesture which suggested that
the English ladies had entered the bounds of that indefinite period when
the subject of age must be politely waived.
'They are tall, signorina, and of a thinness--you would not believe it
possible.'
'I see! And so the poor young man was bored?'
Gustavo bowed vaguely. He saw no connexion.
'He was awfully good-looking,' she added with a sigh. 'I'm afraid I made
a mistake. It would be rather fun, don't you think, Dad, to have an
entertaining young American gentleman about?'
'Ump!' he grunted. 'I thought you were so immensely satisfied with the
officers.'
'Oh, I am,' she agreed with a shrug which dismissed for ever the young
American gentleman.
'Well, Gustavo,' she added in a business-like tone, 'I will tell you why
we called. The doctor says the Signor Papa is getting too fat. I don't
think he's too fat, do you? He seems to me just comfortably chubby; but
anyway, the doctor says he needs exercise, so we're going to begin
climbing mountains with nails in our shoes like the Germans. And we're
going to begin to-morrow because we've got two English people at the
villa who adore mountains. Do you think you can find us a guide and some
donkeys? We want a nice, gentle, lady-like donkey for my aunt, and
another for the English lady, and a third to carry the things--and maybe
me, if I get tired. Then we want a man who will twist their tails and
make them go; and I am very particular about the man. I want him to be
picturesque--there's no use being in Italy if you can't have things
picturesque, is there, Gustavo?'
'_Si_, signorina,' he bowed and resumed his attitude of strained
attention.
'He must have curly hair and black eyes and white teeth and a nice smile;
I should like him to wear a red sash and earrings. He must be obliging
and cheerful and deferential and speak good Italian--I won't have a man
who speaks only dialect. He must play the mandolin and sing Santa
Lucia--I believe that's all.'
'And I suppose since he is to act as guide he must know the region?' her
father mildly suggested.
'Oh, no, that's immaterial; we can always ask our way.'
Mr. Wilder grunted, but offered no further suggestion.
'We pay four lire a day and furnish his meals,' she added munificently.
'And we shall begin with the castle on Monte Baldo; then when we get very
proficient we'll climb Monte Maggiore. Do you understand?'
'Ze signorina desires tree donkeys and a driver at seven o'clock
to-morrow morning to climb Monte Baldo?'
'In brief, yes, but _please_ remember the earrings.'
Meanwhile a commotion was going on behind them. The hotel omnibus had
rumbled into the courtyard. A _fachino_ had dragged out a leather trunk,
an English hat-box and a couple of valises and dumped them on the ground
while he ran back for the paste pot and a pile of labels. The two
under-waiters, the chambermaid and the boy who cleaned boots had drifted
into the court. It was evident that the American gentleman's departure
was imminent.
The luggage was labelled and hoisted to the roof of the omnibus; they all
drew up in a line with their eyes on the door; but still the young man
did not come. Gustavo, over his shoulder, dispatched a waiter to hunt him
up. The waiter returned breathless. The gentleman was nowhere. He had
searched the entire house; there was not a trace. Gustavo sent the
boot-boy flying down the arbour to search the garden; he was beginning to
feel anxious. What if the gentleman in a sudden fit of melancholia had
thrown himself into the lake? That would indeed be an unfortunate affair!
Constance reassured him, and at the same time she arose. It occurred to
her suddenly that, since the young man was going, there was nothing to be
gained by waiting, and he might think---- She picked up her parasol and
started for the gate, but Mr. Wilder hung back; he wanted to see the
matter out.
'Father,' said she reproachfully, 'it's embarrassing enough for him to
fee all those people without our staying and watching him do it.'
'I suppose it is,' he acknowledged regretfully, as he resumed his hat and
umbrella and palm-leaf fan.
She paused for a second in the gateway.
'_Addio_, Gustavo,' she called over her shoulder. '_Don't_ forget the
earrings.'
Gustavo bowed twice and turned back with a dazed air to direct the
business in hand. The boot-boy, reappearing, shook his head. No, the
gentleman was not to be found in the garden. The omnibus driver leaned
from his seat and swore.
_Corpo di Bacco_! Did he think the boat would wait all day for the sake
of one passenger? As it was, they were ten minutes late and would have to
gallop every step of the way.
The turmoil of ejaculation and gesture was approaching a climax; when
suddenly, who should come sauntering into the midst of it but the young
American man himself! He paused to light a cigarette, then waved his hand
aloft toward his leather belongings.
'Take 'em down, Gustavo. Changed my mind; not going to-day--it's too
hot.'
Gustavo gasped.
'But, signore, you have paid for your ticket.'
'True, Gustavo, but there is no law compelling me to use it. To tell the
truth I find that I am fonder of Valedolmo than I had supposed. There is
something satisfying about the peace and tranquillity of the place--one
doesn't realize it till the moment of parting comes. Do you think I can
obtain a room for a--well, an indefinite period?'
Gustavo saw a dazzling vista of silver lire stretching into the future.
With an all-inclusive gesture he placed the house, the lake, the
surrounding mountains, at the disposal of the American.
'You shall have what you wish, signore. At dis season ze Hotel du
Lac----'
'Is not crowded, and there are half a hundred rooms at my disposal? Very
well, I will keep the one I have, which commands a very attractive view
of a rose-coloured villa set in a grove of cypress trees.'
The others had waited in a state of suspension, dumbfounded at what was
going on. But as soon as the young man dipped into his pocket and fished
out a handful of silver, they broke into smiles; this at least was
intelligible. The silver was distributed, the luggage was hoisted down,
the omnibus was dismissed. The courtyard resumed its former quiet; just
the American gentleman, Gustavo and the parrot were left.
Then suddenly a frightful suspicion dawned upon Gustavo--it was more than
a suspicion; it was an absolute certainty which in his excitement he had
overlooked. From where had the American gentleman dropped? Not the sky,
assuredly, and there was no place else possible, unless the door of the
summer-house. Yes, he had been in the summer-house, and not sleeping
either. An indefinable something about his manner informed Gustavo that
he was privy to the entire conversation. Gustavo, a picture of guilty
remorse, searched his memory for the words he had used. Why, oh why, had
he not piled up adjectives? It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and he
had wantonly thrown it away.
But--to his astonished relief--the young man appeared to be bearing no
malice. He appeared, on the contrary, quite unusually cheerful as he
sauntered, whistling, across the court and seated himself in the exact
chair the signorina had occupied. He plunged his hand into his pocket
suggestively--Gustavo had been the only one omitted in the distribution
of silver--and drew forth a roll of bills. Having selected five crisp
five-lire notes, he placed them under the sugar bowl, and watched his
companion while he blew three meditative rings of smoke.
'Gustavo,' he inquired, 'do you suppose you could find me some nice,
gentle, lady-like donkeys, and a red sash and a pair of earrings?'
Gustavo's fascinated gaze had been fixed upon the sugar bowl and he had
only half caught the words.
'_Scusi_, signore, I no understand.'
'Just sit down, Gustavo, it makes me nervous to see you standing all the
time. I can't be comfortable, you know, unless everybody else is
comfortable. Now pay strict attention and see if you can grasp my
meaning.'
Gustavo dubiously accepted the edge of the indicated chair; he wished to
humour the signore's mood, however incomprehensible that mood might be.
For half an hour he listened with strained attention while the gentleman
talked and toyed with the sugar bowl. Amazement, misgiving, amusement,
daring, flashed in succession across his face; in the end he leaned
forward with shining eyes.
'_Si, si_,' he whispered after a conspiratorial glance over his shoulder,
'I will do it all; you may trust to me.'
The young man rose, removed the sugar bowl, and sauntered on toward the
road. Gustavo pocketed the notes and gazed after him.
'_Dio mio_,' he murmured as he set about gathering up the glasses, 'zese
Americans!'
At the gate the young man paused to light another cigarette.
'_Addio_, Gustavo,' he called over his shoulder, '_don't_ forget the
earrings!'