Jerry Junior (3 page)

She jumped to the ground and crossed to the water-steps where Giuseppe, with a radiant smile, was steadying the boat against the landing. She settled herself comfortably among the cushions and then for a moment glanced back towards shore.

"You would better go out by the gate," she called. "The wall on the farther side is harder to climb than the one you came in by; and besides, it has broken glass on the top."

Giuseppe raised the yellow sail and the
Farfalla
with a graceful dip, glided out to sea. The young man stood eyeing its progress revengefully. Now that the girl was out of hearing, a number of pointed things occurred to him which he might have said. His thoughts were interrupted by a fresh giggle from behind and he found that the three washer-girls were laughing at him.

"Your mistress's manners are not the best in the world," said he, severely, "and I am obliged to add that yours are no better."

They giggled again, though there was no malice behind their humor; it was merely that they found the lack of a language in common a mirth-provoking circumstance. Marietta, with a flash of black eyes, murmured something very kindly in Italian, as she shook out a linen sailor suit--the exact twin of the one that had gone to sea--and spread it on the wall to dry.

The young man did not linger for further words. Setting his hat firmly on his head, he vaulted the parapet and strode off down the cypress alley that stretched before him; he passed the pink villa without a glance. At the gate he stood aside to admit a horse and rider. The horse was prancing in spite of the heat; the rider wore a uniform and a shining sword. There was a clank of accoutrements as he passed, and the wayfarer caught a gleam of piercing black eyes and a slight black moustache turned up at the ends. The rider saluted politely and indifferently, and jangled on. The young man scowled after him maliciously until the cypresses hid him from view; then he turned and took up the dusty road back towards the Hotel du Lac.

It was close upon five, and Gustavo was in the court-yard feeding the parrot, when his eye fell upon the American guest scuffling down the road in a cloud of white dust. Gustavo hastened to the gate to welcome him back, his very eyebrows expressive of his eagerness for news.

"You are returned, signore?"

The young man paused and regarded him unemotionally.

"Yes, Gustavo, I am returned--with thanks."

"You have seen ze Signorina Costantina?"

"Yes, I saw her."

"And is it not as I have said, zat she is beautiful as ze holy angels?"

"Yes, Gustavo, she is--and just about equally remote. You may make out my bill."

The waiter's face clouded.

"You do not wish to remain longer, signore?"

"Can't stand it, Gustavo; it's too infernally restful."

Poor Gustavo saw a munificent shower of tips vanishing into nothing. His face was rueful but his manner was undiminishingly polite.

"
Si
, signore, sank you. When shall you wish ze omnibus?"

"Tomorrow morning for the first boat."

Gustavo bowed to the inevitable; and the young man passed on. He paused half way across the court-yard.

"What time does the first boat leave?"

"At half past five, signore."

"Er--no--I'll take the second."

"
Si
, signore. At half-past ten."

CHAPTER III

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 court-yard, paused for a moment to tease the parrot, and sauntered on to his favorite 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 court-yard 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.

[Illustration: "He had also shifted his position so that he might command the profile of the girl"]

"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 loving, 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 court-yard. "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 day."

"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 today."

"Today, 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 connection.

"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 forever 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?"