in this respect, for their rooms had been taken for them before they
left England. Trusting to this, Mrs. Greene gave herself no
inconsiderable airs the moment her foot was on the shore, and ordered
the people about as though she were the Lady Paramount of Bellaggio.
Italians, however, are used to this from travellers of a certain
description. They never resent such conduct, but simply put it down in
the bill with the other articles. Mrs. Greene’s words on this occasion
were innocent enough, seeing that they were English; but had I been that
head waiter who came down to the beach with his nice black shiny hair,
and his napkin under his arm, I should have thought her manner very
insolent.
Indeed, as it was, I did think so, and was inclined to be angry with
her. She was to remain for some time at Bellaggio, and therefore it
behoved her, as she thought, to assume the character of the grand lady
at once. Hitherto she had been willing enough to do the work, but now
she began to order about Mr. Greene and Sophonisba; and, as it appeared
to me, to order me about also. I did not quite enjoy this; so leaving
her still among her luggage and satellites, I walked up to the hotel to
see about my own bed-room. I had some seltzer water, stood at the window
for three or four minutes, and then walked up and down the room. But
still the Greenes were not there. As I had put in at Bellaggio solely
with the object of seeing something more of Sophonisba, it would not do
for me to quarrel with them, or to allow them so to settle themselves
in their private sitting-room, that I should be excluded. Therefore I
returned again to the road by which they must come up, and met the
procession near the house.
Mrs. Greene was leading it with great majesty, the waiter with the shiny
hair walking by her side to point out to her the way. Then came all the
luggage,--each porter carrying a white canvas-covered box. That which
was so valuable no doubt was carried next to Mrs. Greene, so that she
might at a moment’s notice put her eye upon the well-known valuable
rent. I confess that I did not observe the hole as the train passed by
me, nor did I count the number of the boxes. Seven boxes, all alike, are
very many; and then they were followed by three other men with the
inferior articles,--Mr. Greene’s portmanteau, the carpet-bag, &c., &c.
At the tail of the line, I found Mr. Greene, and behind him Sophonisba.
“All your fatigues will be over now,” I said to the gentleman, thinking
it well not to be too particular in my attentions to his daughter. He
was panting beneath a terrible great-coat, having forgotten that the
shores of an Italian lake are not so cold as the summits of the Alps,
and did not answer me. “I’m sure I hope so,” said Sophonisba. “And I
shall advise papa not to go any farther unless he can persuade Mrs.
Greene to send her jewels home.” “Sophy, my dear,” he said, “for
Heaven’s sake let us have a little peace since we are here.” From all
which I gathered that Mr. Green had not been fortunate in his second
matrimonial adventure. We then made our way slowly up to the hotel,
having been altogether distanced by the porters, and when we reached the
house we found that the different packages were already being carried
away through the house, some this way and some that. Mrs. Green, the
meanwhile, was talking loudly at the door of her own sitting-room.
“Mr. Greene,” she said, as soon as she saw her heavily oppressed
spouse,--for the noonday sun was up,--“Mr. Greene, where are you?”
“Here, my dear,” and Mr. Greene threw himself panting into the corner of
a sofa.
“A little seltzer water and brandy,” I suggested. Mr. Greene’s inmost
heart leaped at the hint, and nothing that his remonstrant wife could
say would induce him to move, until he had enjoyed the delicious
draught. In the mean time the box with the hole in the canvas had been
lost.
Yes; when we came to look into matters, to count the packages, and to
find out where we were, the box with the hole in the canvas was not
there. Or, at any rate, Mrs. Greene said it was not there. I worked hard
to look it up, and even went into Sophonisba’s bed-room in my search. In
Sophonisba’s bed-room there was but one canvas-covered box. “That is my
own,” said she, “and it is all that I have, except this bag.”
“Where on earth can it be?” said I, sitting down on the trunk in
question. At the moment I almost thought that she had been instrumental
in hiding it.
“How am I to know?” she answered; and I fancied that even she was
dismayed. “What a fool that woman is!”
“The box must be in the house,” I said.
“Do find it, for papa’s sake; there’s a good fellow. He will be so
wretched without his money. I heard him say that he had only two pounds
in his purse.”
“Oh, I can let him have money to go on with,” I answered grandly. And
then I went off to prove that I was a good fellow, and searched
throughout the house. Two white boxes had by order been left downstairs,
as they would not be needed; and these two were in a large cupboard of
the hall, which was used expressly for stowing away luggage. And then
there were three in Mrs. Greene’s bed-room, which had been taken there
as containing the wardrobe which she would require while remaining at
Bellaggio. I searched every one of these myself to see if I could find
the hole in the canvas. But the hole in the canvas was not there. And,
let me count as I would, I could make out only six. Now there certainly
had been seven on board the steamer, though I could not swear that I had
seen the seven put into the small boat.
“Mr. Greene,” said the lady standing in the middle of her remaining
treasures, all of which were now open, “you are worth nothing when
travelling. Were you not behind?” But Mr. Greene’s mind was full, and he
did not answer.
“It has been stolen before your very eyes,” she continued.
“Nonsense, mamma,” said Sophonisba. “If ever it came out of the steamer
it certainly came into the house.”
“I saw it out of the steamer,” said Mrs. Greene, “and it certainly is
not in the house. Mr. Robinson, may I trouble you to send for the
police?--at once, if you please, sir.”
I had been at Bellaggio twice before, but nevertheless I was ignorant of
their system of police. And then, again, I did not know what was the
Italian for the word.
“I will speak to the landlord,” I said.
“If you will have the goodness to send for the police at once, I will
be obliged to you.” And as she thus reiterated her command, she stamped
with her foot upon the floor.
“There are no police at Bellaggio,” said Sophonisba.
“What on earth shall I do for money to go on with?” said Mr. Greene,
looking piteously up to the ceiling, and shaking both his hands.
And now the whole house was in an uproar, including not only the
landlord, his wife and daughters, and all the servants, but also every
other visitor at the hotel. Mrs. Greene was not a lady who hid either
her glories or her griefs under a bushel, and, though she spoke only in
English, she soon made her protestations sufficiently audible. She
protested loudly that she had been robbed, and that she had been robbed
since she left the steamer. The box had come on shore; of that she was
quite certain. If the landlord had any regard either for his own
character or for that of his house, he would ascertain before an hour
was over where it was, and who had been the thief. She would give him an
hour. And then she sat herself down; but in two minutes she was up
again, vociferating her wrongs as loudly as ever. All this was filtered
through me and Sophonisba to the waiter in French, and from the waiter
to the landlord; but the lady’s gestures required no translation to make
them intelligible, and the state of her mind on the matter was, I
believe, perfectly well understood.
Mr. Greene I really did pity. His feelings of dismay seemed to be quite
as deep, but his sorrow and solicitude were repressed into more decorum.
“What am I to do for money?” he said. “I have not a shilling to go on
with!” And he still looked up at the ceiling.
“You must send to England,” said Sophonisba.
“It will take a month,” he replied.
“Mr. Robinson will let you have what you want at present,” added
Sophonisba. Now I certainly had said so, and had meant it at the time.
But my whole travelling store did not exceed forty or fifty pounds, with
which I was going on to Venice, and then back to England through the
Tyrol. Waiting a month for Mr. Greene’s money from England might be even
more inconvenient to me than to him. Then it occurred to me that the
wants of the Greene family would be numerous and expensive, and that my
small stock would go but a little way among so many. And what also if
there had been no money and no jewels in that accursed box! I confess
that at the moment such an idea did strike my mind. One hears of
sharpers on every side committing depredations by means of most
singular intrigues and contrivances. Might it not be possible that the
whole batch of Greenes belonged to this order of society. It was a base
idea, I own; but I confess that I entertained it for a moment.
I retired to my own room for a while that I might think over all the
circumstances. There certainly had been seven boxes, and one had had a
hole in the canvas. All the seven had certainly been on board the
steamer. To so much I felt that I might safely swear. I had not counted
the seven into the small boat, but on leaving the larger vessel I had
looked about the deck to see that none of the Greene trappings were
forgotten. If left on the steamer, it had been so left through an intent
on the part of some one there employed. It was quite possible that the
contents of the box had been ascertained through the imprudence of Mrs.
Greene, and that it had been conveyed away so that it might be rifled at
Como. As to Mrs. Greene’s assertion that all the boxes had been put into
the small boat, I thought nothing of it. The people at Bellaggio could
not have known which box to steal, nor had there been time to concoct
the plan in carrying the boxes up to the hotel. I came at last to this
conclusion, that the missing trunk had either been purloined and carried
on to Como,--in which case it would be necessary to lose no time in
going after it; or that it had been put out of sight in some uncommonly
clever way, by the Greenes themselves, as an excuse for borrowing as
much money as they could raise and living without payment of their
bills. With reference to the latter hypothesis, I declared to myself
that Greene did not look like a swindler; but as to Mrs. Greene--! I
confess that I did not feel so confident in regard to her.
Charity begins at home, so I proceeded to make myself comfortable in my
room, feeling almost certain that I should not be able to leave
Bellaggio on the following morning. I had opened my portmanteau when I
first arrived, leaving it open on the floor as is my wont. Some people
are always being robbed, and are always locking up everything; while
others wander safe over the world and never lock up anything. For
myself, I never turn a key anywhere, and no one ever purloins from me
even a handkerchief. Cantabit vacuus--, and I am always sufficiently
vacuus. Perhaps it is that I have not a handkerchief worth the stealing.
It is your heavy-laden, suspicious, mal-adroit Greenes that the thieves
attack. I now found out that the accommodating Boots, who already knew
my ways, had taken my travelling gear into a dark recess which was
intended to do for a dressing-room, and had there spread my portmanteau
open upon some table or stool in the corner. It was a convenient
arrangement, and there I left it during the whole period of my sojourn.
Mrs. Greene had given the landlord an hour to find the box, and during
that time the landlord, the landlady, their three daughters, and all the
servants in the house certainly did exert themselves to the utmost. Half
a dozen times they came to my door, but I was luxuriating in a
washing-tub, making up for that four-o’clock start from Chiavenna. I
assured them, however, that the box was not there, and so the search
passed by. At the end of the hour I went back to the Greenes according
to promise, having resolved that some one must be sent on to Como to
look after the missing article.
There was no necessity to knock at their sitting-room door, for it was
wide open. I walked in, and found Mrs. Greene still engaged in attacking
the landlord, while all the porters who had carried the luggage up to
the house were standing round. Her voice was loud above the others, but,
luckily for them all, she was speaking English. The landlord, I saw, was
becoming sulky. He spoke in Italian, and we none of us understood him,
but I gathered that he was declining to do anything further. The box, he
was certain, had never come out of the steamer. The Boots stood by
interpreting into French, and, acting as second interpreter, I put it
into English.
Mr. Greene, who was seated on the sofa, groaned audibly, but said
nothing. Sophonisba, who was sitting by him, beat upon the floor with
both her feet.
“Do you hear, Mr. Greene?” said she, turning to him. “Do you mean to
allow that vast amount of property to be lost without an effort? Are you
prepared to replace my jewels?”
“Her jewels!” said Sophonisba, looking up into my face. “Papa had to pay
the bill for every stitch she had when he married her.” These last words
were so spoken as to be audible only by me, but her first exclamation
was loud enough. Were they people for whom it would be worth my while to
delay my journey, and put myself to serious inconvenience with reference
to money?
A few minutes afterwards I found myself with Greene on the terrace
before the house. “What ought I to do?” said he.
“Go to Como,” said I, “and look after your box. I will remain here and
go on board the return steamer. It may perhaps be there.”
“But I can’t speak a word of Italian,” said he.
“Take the Boots,” said I.
“But I can’t speak a word of French.” And then it ended in my
undertaking to go to Como. I swear that the thought struck me that I
might as well take my portmanteau with me, and cut and run when I got
there. The Greenes were nothing to me.
I did not, however, do this. I made the poor man a promise, and I kept
it. I took merely a dressing-bag, for I knew that I must sleep at Como;
and, thus resolving to disarrange all my plans, I started. I was in the
midst of beautiful scenery, but I found it quite impossible to draw any
enjoyment from it;--from that or from anything around me. My whole mind
was given up to anathemas against this odious box, as to which I had
undoubtedly heavy cause of complaint. What was the box to me? I went to
Como by the afternoon steamer, and spent a long dreary evening down on
the steamboat quays searching everywhere, and searching in vain. The
boat by which we had left Colico had gone back to Colico, but the people
swore that nothing had been left on board it. It was just possible that
such a box might have gone on to Milan with the luggage of other
passengers.
I slept at Como, and on the following morning I went on to Milan. There
was no trace of the box to be found in that city. I went round to every
hotel and travelling office, but could hear nothing of it. Parties had
gone to Venice, and Florence, and Bologna, and any of them might have
taken the box. No one, however, remembered it; and I returned back to
Como, and thence to Bellaggio, reaching the latter place at nine in the
evening, disappointed, weary, and cross.
“Has Monsieur found the accursed trunk?” said the Bellaggio Boots,
meeting me on the quay.
“In the name of the ----, no. Has it not turned up here?”
“Monsieur,” said the Boots, “we shall all be mad soon. The poor master,
he is mad already.” And then I went up to the house.
“My jewels!” shouted Mrs. Greene, rushing to me with her arms stretched
out as soon as she heard my step in the corridor. I am sure that she
would have embraced me had I found the box. I had not, however, earned
any such reward. “I can hear nothing of the box either at Como or
Milan,” I said.
“Then what on earth am I to do for my money?” said Mr. Greene.
I had had neither dinner nor supper, but the elder Greenes did not care
for that. Mr. Greene sat silent in despair, and Mrs. Greene stormed
about the room in her anger. “I am afraid you are very tired,” said
Sophonisba.
“I am tired, and hungry, and thirsty,” said I. I was beginning to get
angry, and to think myself ill used. And that idea as to a family of
swindlers became strong again. Greene had borrowed ten napoleons from me
before I started for Como, and I had spent above four in my fruitless
journey to that place and Milan. I was beginning to fear that my whole
purpose as to Venice and the Tyrol would be destroyed; and I had
promised to meet friends at Innspruck, who,--who were very much
preferable to the Greenes. As events turned out, I did meet them. Had I
failed in this, the present Mrs. Robinson would not have been sitting
opposite to me.
I went to my room and dressed myself, and then Sophonisba presided over
the tea-table for me. “What are we to do?” she asked me in a
confidential whisper.
“Wait for money from England.”
“But they will think we are all sharpers,” she said; “and upon my word I
do not wonder at it from the way in which that woman goes on.” She then
leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table and her face on her hand,
and told me a long history of all their family discomforts. Her papa was
a very good sort of man, only he had been made a fool of by that
intriguing woman, who had been left without a sixpence with which to
bless herself. And now they had nothing but quarrels and misery. Papa
did not always got the worst of it;--papa could rouse himself sometimes;
only now he was beaten down and cowed by the loss of his money. This
whispering confidence was very nice in its way, seeing that Sophonisba
was a pretty girl; but the whole matter seemed to be full of suspicion.
“If they did not want to take you in in one way, they did in another,”
said the present Mrs. Robinson, when I told the story to her at
Innspruck. I beg that it may be understood that at the time of my
meeting the Greenes I was not engaged to the present Mrs. Robinson, and
was open to make any matrimonial engagement that might have been
pleasing to me.
On the next morning, after breakfast, we held a council of war. I had
been informed that Mr. Greene had made a fortune, and was justified in
presuming him to be a rich man. It seemed to me, therefore, that his
course was easy. Let him wait at Bellaggio for more money, and when he
returned home, let him buy Mrs. Greene more jewels. A poor man always
presumes that a rich man is indifferent about his money. But in truth a
rich man never is indifferent about his money, and poor Greene looked
very blank at my proposition.
“Do you mean to say that it’s gone for ever?” he asked.
“I’ll not leave the country without knowing more about it,” said Mrs.
Greene.
“It certainly is very odd,” said Sophonisba. Even Sophonisba seemed to
think that I was too off-hand.
“It will be a month before I can get money, and my bill here will be
something tremendous,” said Greene.
“I wouldn’t pay them a farthing till I got my box,” said Mrs. Greene.
“That’s nonsense,” said Sophonisba. And so it was.
“Hold your tongue, Miss!” said the step-mother.
“Indeed, I shall not hold my tongue,” said the step-daughter.
Poor Greene! He had lost more than his box within the last twelve
months; for, as I had learned in that whispered conversation over the
tea-table with Sophonisba, this was in reality her papa’s marriage trip.
Another day was now gone, and we all went to bed. Had I not been very
foolish I should have had myself called at five in the morning, and have
gone away by the early boat, leaving my ten napoleons behind me. But,
unfortunately, Sophonisba had exacted a promise from me that I would not
do this, and thus all chance of spending a day or two in Venice was lost
to me. Moreover, I was thoroughly fatigued, and almost glad of any
excuse which would allow me to lie in bed on the following morning. I
did lie in bed till nine o’clock, and then found the Greenes at
breakfast.
“Let us go and look at the Serbelloni Gardens,” said I, as soon as the
silent meal was over; “or take a boat over to the Sommariva Villa.”
“I should like it so much,” said Sophonisba.
“We will do nothing of the kind till I have found my property,” said
Mrs. Greene. “Mr. Robinson, what arrangement did you make yesterday with
the police at Como?”
“The police at Como?” I said. “I did not go to the police.”
“Not go to the police? And do you mean to say that I am to be robbed of
my jewels and no efforts made for redress? Is there no such thing as a
constable in this wretched country? Mr. Greene, I do insist upon it that
you at once go to the nearest British consul.”
“I suppose I had better write home for money,” said he.
“And do you mean to say that you haven’t written yet?” said I, probably
with some acrimony in my voice.
“You needn’t scold papa,” said Sophonisba.
“I don’t know what I am to do,” said Mr. Greene, and he began walking up
and down the room; but still he did not call for pen and ink, and I
began again to feel that he was a swindler. Was it possible that a man
of business, who had made his fortune in London, should allow his wife
to keep all her jewels in a box, and carry about his own money in the
same?
“I don’t see why you need be so very unhappy, papa,” said Sophonisba.
“Mr. Robinson, I’m sure, will let you have whatever money you may want
at present.” This was pleasant!
“And will Mr. Robinson return me my jewels which were lost, I must say,
in a great measure, through his carelessness,” said Mrs. Greene. This
was pleasanter!
“Upon my word, Mrs. Greene, I must deny that,” said I, jumping up. “What
on earth could I have done more than I did do? I have been to Milan and
nearly fagged myself to death.”
“Why didn’t you bring a policeman back with you?”
“You would tell everybody on board the boat what there was in it,” said
I.
“I told nobody but you,” she answered.
“I suppose you mean to imply that I’ve taken the box,” I rejoined. So
that on this, the third or fourth day of our acquaintance, we did not go
on together quite pleasantly.
But what annoyed me, perhaps, the most, was the confidence with which it
seemed to be Mr. Greene’s intention to lean upon my resources. He
certainly had not written home yet, and had taken my ten napoleons, as
one friend may take a few shillings from another when he finds that he
has left his own silver on his dressing-table. What could he have wanted
of ten napoleons? He had alleged the necessity of paying the porters,
but the few francs he had had in his pocket would have been enough for
that. And now Sophonisba was ever and again prompt in her assurances
that he need not annoy himself about money, because I was at his right
hand. I went upstairs into my own room, and counting all my treasures,
found that thirty-six pounds and some odd silver was the extent of my
wealth. With that I had to go, at any rate, as far as Innspruck, and
from thence back to London. It was quite impossible that I should make
myself responsible for the Greenes’ bill at Bellaggio.
We dined early, and after dinner, according to a promise made in the
morning, Sophonisba ascended with me into the Serbelloni Gardens, and
walked round the terraces on that beautiful hill which commands the view
of the three lakes. When we started I confess that I would sooner have
gone alone, for I was sick of the Greenes in my very soul. We had had a
terrible day. The landlord had been sent for so often, that he refused
to show himself again. The landlady--though Italians of that class are
always courteous--had been so driven that she snapped her fingers in
Mrs. Greene’s face. The three girls would not show themselves. The
waiters kept out of the way as much as possible; and the Boots, in
confidence, abused them to me behind their back. “Monsieur,” said the
Boots, “do you think there ever was such a box?” “Perhaps not,” said I;
and yet I knew that I had seen it.
I would, therefore, have preferred to walk without Sophonisba; but that
now was impossible. So I determined that I would utilise the occasion by
telling her of my present purpose. I had resolved to start on the
following day, and it was now necessary to make my friends understand
that it was not in my power to extend to them any further pecuniary
assistance.