GOOD-BYE.
Late that afternoon, as Dino sprang out of the fishing-smack on the
stone steps of the landing-place at Leghorn, the first person whom his
glance rested on was broad-shouldered Maso sitting on the edge of the
quay with his legs and feet dangling over the water. He got up slowly
as Dino came nearer, and nodded with cheerful friendliness.
'_I_ know that boat you came in. She's a Bocca d'Arno smack, she is.
The man who owns her lives at Pisa.'
'So he does, Maso.'
Dino looked rather anxiously about him. It seemed only too probable
that old Drea was making one of that blue-coated group of fishermen who
were sitting a dozen paces off on a coil of old ropes, criticising the
craft that passed at this leisurely hour of the day, when the nets had
already been looked after, and there was time for a pause and the
smoking of pipes before the night work began. And Dino did not wish to
meet the old man again. He shrank from having to feel once more the
altered look of that face; all the old affection felt bruised and sore
when he remembered it. He would have turned away now without further
speech, but Maso detained him.
'Aren't you coming back to work in the _Bella Maria_, Dino? She's
short-handed now with only Sor Drea and me. 'Twas all we could do to
manage the nets this morning. I asked the Padrone if you weren't
coming back soon.'
'Ay; and what did he say?' asked Dino, rather eagerly. It would be a
comfort still to know that his old friend could speak kindly of him.
Taciturn Maso took off his round cap and scratched his thick, curly
hair with an air of consideration. 'Well, I dunno,' he said dubiously.
'He swore at me for being a fool, as far as I can remember. But _that_
wasn't much of an answer--that wasn't. An' yet somehow I didn't seem
to miss nothing.'
'But didn't he say anything? Try and remember, Maso; there's a good
fellow. Didn't he say: "Oh, Dino is going away," or, "Dino has other
business to attend to?" He must have said something, you know.'
'Well, he did swear at me. I told you that already. But, good Lord!
some people are never satisfied unless the words come in shoals, like
the mackerel when the sharks are driving 'em ashore. An' it's Maso
here, and Maso there, till I want to put my head in a bucket o' salt
water; I do. That's why I like Italia to speak to me,' he added
reflectively. 'She never says too much, and her words are sort o'
pretty, like the sea in a calm, when the water is just dozing and
making a pleasant noise.'
'Have you seen her?--have you seen Italia to-day, Maso?' asked Dino,
his heart beginning to beat faster.
'Oh, ay; that's why I came here to wait for you. I saw your boat; I
knew her by the cut of her sails before she was fairly round the point
yonder. But I'd ha' brought her in on a shorter tack if I'd had the
steering of her--_I_ should.'
'What--what was it Italia wished you to tell me?' asked Dino, making a
strong effort to control his impatience and not excite the wonder of
the honest, slow-witted young fellow by his side.
'It wasn't so much of a message after all, when I think o' it. I say,
Dino, you know Sora Lucia? She lives at the top of that big house in
the Via Bianchi.'
'I know--I know.'
'Well, you were to go there, now, this afternoon. Sora Lucia wants to
speak to you. That was what Italia told me. She told me twice. But,
Lord, I'm not such a stupid as that. I can remember what _she_ says
fast enough.'
'Very well, then; I'll go now,' said Dino, feeling rather disappointed.
Still it was possible that the little dressmaker might have some
message for him. He turned back to inquire of Maso how it was that
Italia knew of his return so exactly.
'Nay, how should _I_ know?' retorted Maso reproachfully. 'You don't
suppose I asked her, do you?'
He stood on the quay staring after young De Rossi with a look of the
most sincere admiration dawning in his big blue eyes. Dino was in some
sort of serious scrape, he reflected gravely. Else why didn't he come
back to the old boat? And to have time, and opportunity, and invention
enough to get into a serious scrape was in itself a distinction in
honest Maso's eyes. It was almost like being a gentleman. They got
into lots o' trouble, did the Padroni.
'It all comes of his having an eddication,' he pondered enviously,
leaning against the parapet and looking at Dino's back.
It was not far to the corner house in the Via Bianchi. Dino went
slowly up the many stairs; it was impossible to say what he expected,
but his heart beat very fast as he stopped before Lucia's door, and at
first he was not sure, he could not tell, if there had been any answer
to his knock.
'_Avanti, Avanti_. Come in; I cannot leave the work,' a woman's voice
repeated briskly, and he opened the door. The first glance showed him
that the big room was empty of what he most desired. There was no one
in it but Lucia, who was standing with her back to him engaged in
pressing down the folds of a gown with a hot iron.
'Oh. So that's you, Dino; is it?' she said brusquely, without turning
her head.
'I came as soon as I got your message. I have only just returned from
Bocca d'Arno, Sora Lucia; and I met Maso on the quay.'
'Oh. 'Twas Maso that told you; was it? See there now. And I who
always took him for a sort of two-legged sea-calf, with only just sense
enough in him to fall in love with Italia.'
'Maso! that fellow!'
'Well, well. I am not talking Latin, am I? _Santa Vergine_, it would
be a fine world if all the men in it were to keep their eyes shut
because a certain young man---- _Basta_. I understand what I mean.'
She nodded her head several times, and took up another iron, holding it
carefully near her face to determine the exact degree of heat.
Dino sat and looked at her in silence. The clock ticked loudly on its
shelf, and the dozing cat, awakening to the fact of the presence of a
visitor, stretched itself two or three times sleepily, and then made a
spring and perched itself on the young man's knee. He rubbed the
creature's head mechanically until it purred. Then he put it down
gently on the ground and stood up.
'I thought you might have something to say to me, Sora Lucia. But if
not I will ask you to let me wish you good-bye now. I have not seen my
mother yet: and I am going away--I am going to Rome to-morrow.'
'Ah, Rome is a fine city,' said Sora Lucia briskly. Then she bent her
head over her work again and added: 'I, too, have business in Rome. I
have a cousin there, my own flesh and blood cousin, who has a shop for
beads and rosaries and objects of devotion in the Borgo. Not more than
a stone's throw from the house of the Holy Father, as one might say. I
may be going up to Rome myself one of these days. It seems as if
Leghorn wasn't good enough to stay in any more. The whole world's
travelling.'
'_Dunque_, I'll say good-bye without troubling you further, Sora Lucia.'
'Oh, you'll not go without a greeting to the _nonna_ first. She's
wonderfully pleased when people remember to say good-bye to her,' said
Lucia hastily, putting down her irons with a clatter.
She went to the inner door and opened it.
'Beppi. Run to the grandmother, child, and say that Dino de' Rossi is
here and waiting to make her his _saluti_.--And tell Italia that I want
her. Say that I want her; do you understand? These children have not
so much head as a pin between 'em all,' she said hastily, coming back
to her work with almost a blush upon her thin pale cheek.
Dino looked at her with great agitation. 'Does Italia know---- Sora
Lucia, if Italia should not wish to see me----'
'She's not here to see you. She paying me a visit,' said the little
dressmaker sharply. 'And not the worst tongue in Leghorn could blame
the girl for coming here. It would be a fine thing, indeed, if I had
to give up all my friends to please you, Sor Dino! I--_Santa
pazienza_!'
The door opened again and Italia came in, leading by the hand a very
old woman, who steadied herself at the door, and dropped Dino a series
of small tremulous curtsies.
'I don't remember who the Signore may be, Lucia; but you know who he
is. I'm a very old woman now, sir; very old. I don't rightly remember
how many years 'tis now that I've been living; but I worked for forty
year at the marble works, I did; forty year picking over the rags to
pack the marble.'
'There, _nonna_, come and sit in your own chair by the fire; that's
what you like best,' said Lucia, glancing half guiltily at Italia.
The girl did not notice her. She had silently given her hand to Dino
as she came in. They stood so for an instant without speaking; then
she slowly lifted up her dark eyes. There was no young smile in them
now, and her dear pale face had grown rigid and strained. She looked
as if all the gladness had been killed within her. Only her voice had
not changed; its full clear ring sounded like a mockery now after
meeting that look of infinite misery in her eyes.
'I wanted to say good-bye, Dino.'
'Yes.'
'And I wanted to ask you, when you go to Rome, could not little Palmira
go with you? Will you take her, Dino? Please take her.'
'Palmira? take that child? But, dear Italia, indeed it would be quite
impossible!'
He was surprised into speaking very abruptly.
'Would it? I did not know. But I wish you would,' Italia murmured,
looking down at her hands. She added hurriedly, and hardly moving her
lips: 'If any one were watching your movements; if they suspected you
of anything; it would be safer to have the child.'
'But, dear, I could not take her. It is impossible. Why, for one
thing, I have no money. What could I do with the child in Rome?' Dino
urged, still speaking with the vehemence of surprise.
She shrank away a little. 'I did not know. I think it could be
managed.'
'Italia, Italia, I want to ask you about this work; you always know the
right thing to advise one,' said Lucia in a hasty voice, looking up
from her ironing.
But when Italia came to her she said nothing, only pushing back the
girl's heavy hair, and giving her a little pat on the cheek. 'There,
go away, go away, child. You are interrupting me. Go and talk to the
_nonna_.'
The old woman was watching the fire, her eyes following its flickering
motion like the eyes of a young child. She said in a quavering voice
as Italia laid her hand on her shoulder, 'My knitting, Maria; have you
brought me my knitting?'
'Grannie always calls Italia Maria,' observed the small Beppi in an
explanatory manner to Dino. 'She says Maria do this, Maria do that,
and all the while she's speaking to Italia.'
'It was my mother's name,' said Lucia, nodding her head. 'She's dead
these twenty years, the saints have her soul! but the _nonna_ doesn't
remember.'
Italia was kneeling before the purblind old dame, picking up the
dropped stitches in a coarse woollen stocking. 'Now it will do nicely,
dear _nonna_,' she said in her clear grave voice; and the grandmother
laid her trembling hand upon the girl's thick hair and stroked it; 'You
were always a good child, Maria; always. Now Lucia there she never
married, an' there's many a thing she doesn't understand,--many a
thing,--many a thing.'
'Italia, will you fetch me the body of this dress? I left it in the
other room on the table,' said Lucia suddenly. She waited till the
girl had passed through the open door, then she hurriedly turned and
looked at Dino: 'Go--go and help her find it!'
He went straight up to the girl and caught both her hands in his.
'My dear, my love, if there was anything I could do or say to comfort
you. I would give my life--my life! to undo the harm that I have done
to you, Italia.'
'Oh no,' she said hastily, and disengaged her hands and bent her head
over Lucia's work. 'Dino.'
'Yes, dear.
'I wanted to ask you. There is just one thing.' She bent her face
until it nearly touched the table. 'They tell me so, and I cannot
contradict it,' she murmured; her sweet lips contracted and grew pale.
'What is it, dear? Tell me. Tell me, Italia.'
'Ah, there is no other woman whom you care for, then, at Rome?' Her
voice was scarcely audible, and she turned her head from side to side
without looking at him.
'Italia!'
He caught hold of her hands again, and forced her to meet his glance.
'Upon my honour--no! There is no other woman for me in all the world
but you. And I love you, Italia,--I love you, I love you,' Dino said.
She bent her head a little. 'I did not know.' Then, still without
looking at him, 'Now--I shall not be so unhappy, my Dino.'
Sora Lucia came as far as the doorway and looked in. 'You have found
the bodice, Italia? Well, well, there is no hurry for it, none at all.'
'I'm coming, Lucia--directly.'
She clasped both her hands together, and held them out mutely.
'Italia,' he said, seizing them, 'I must ask you this. Is it true
about Maso? would your father make you marry him? For God's sake tell
me!'
'I can't grieve my father,' she said faintly; 'he has only me.
But--Dino'--her eyes seemed to pierce his very heart as she looked at
him--'oh, my poor Dino!' she said. And she stooped and gathered up the
scattered pieces of work from the table, and left him standing there
alone in the room.
He could never remember what happened after then until he found himself
out in the street, walking towards home through the still spring
twilight.
But the next day, just as the Roman train was starting, a woman dressed
very neatly in black, and holding a child by the hand, came running
along the platform, looking in at the windows of the third-class
carriages. It was Sora Lucia with little Palmira; they had scarcely
time to secure their seats in Dino's compartment before the train
started.
'You may well be surprised to see us; you may well look astonished, Sor
Dino,' the little dressmaker began nervously, as the engine puffed out
of the station.
'But, oh, Dino, Dino, it was Italia's plan!' broke in little Palmira,
clapping her hands ecstatically. 'And she asked mother to let me go
with Lucia, only mother wouldn't tell you because it was to be a
secret. And Italia said that Lucia would have to go and see her
cousin, and you would take me to look at the wolf, Dino. Dino, will
you take me to look at the wolf?'
'What does this mean?' the young man demanded rather impatiently,
fixing his eyes on Lucia, who only tossed her head, affecting to be
absorbed in examining the fastening of the window.
'And, Dino, Italia sold her ring in a shop, her beautiful new gold ring
that the Signor Marchese gave her on her birthday. She sold it to get
the money to send us, because Lucia had to go and see her cousins, who
have a shop in the Borgo,' continued little Palmira in an awe-struck
voice. She had never seen Dino look so strangely; his face was quite
white, and he did not seem at all pleased to see them. The prospect of
feeding the wolf grew fainter at every minute, and Palmira's small pale
cheeks began to flush ominously.
'There, there, little one. Don't cry. There's a good little girl,'
said Dino hastily, and patting her kindly on the head.
He lowered his voice and turned to Lucia. 'Was this Italia's own idea?
Did no one suggest it to her?' he asked anxiously.
'Nay, if you want to know so many things about Italia, Sor Dino, 'tis a
pity you could not stay in Leghorn long enough to ask her the questions
yourself. But you prefer leaving the people who care for you to dry
their own eyes and look after their own concerns. Well, well, it's the
way of the world apparently. And you take your own responsibility.
After all, one's actions belong to oneself; you can't have other
people's babies,' said Sora Lucia dryly. And she continued to look out
of the carriage window till they were well on their way to Rome.