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"The truth is this," answered Teresina, lowering her voice. "They have betrothed her to the Count, and she does not like it. But if you say anything--." She laughed a little and shook her finger at him.
Bastianello threw his head back to signify that he would not repeat what he had heard. Then he gazed into Teresina's eyes for a moment.
"The Count is worse than an animal," he said quietly.
"If you knew how true that is!" exclaimed Teresina, blus.h.i.+ng deeply and turning away. "I will ask the Marchesa if she will go out," she added, as she walked quickly away.
Bastianello waited and in a few moments she came back.
"Not to-day," she said.
"So much the better. I want to say something to you, Teresina. Will you listen to me? Can I say it here?" Bastianello felt unaccountably nervous, and when he had spoken he regretted it.
"I hope it is good news," answered the girl. "Come to the window at the end of the corridor. We shall be further from the door there, and there is more air. Now what is it?" she asked as they reached the place she had chosen.
"It is this, Teresina," said Bastianello, summoning all his courage for what was the most difficult undertaking of his life. "You know my brother Ruggiero."
"Eh! I should think so! I see him every day."
"Good. He also sees you every day, and he sees how beautiful you are, and now he knows how good you are, because the little boy of the Son of the Fool saw you with that apoplexy of a Count in the garden to-day, and heard what you said, and came and told me, and I told Ruggiero because I knew how glad he would be."
"Dio mio!" cried Teresina. She had blushed scarlet while he was speaking, and she covered her face with both hands.
"You need not hide your face, Teresina," said Bastianello, with a little emotion. "You can show it to every one after what you have done. And so I will go on, and you must listen. Ruggiero is not a great signore like the Count of San Miniato, but he is a man. And he has two arms which are good, and two fists as hard as an ox's hoofs, and he can break horse-shoes with his hands."
"Can you do that?" asked Teresina with an admiring look.
"Since you ask me--yes, I can. But Ruggiero did it before I could, and showed me how, and no one else here can do it at all. And moreover Ruggiero is a quiet man and does not drink nor play at the lotto, and there is no harm in a game of beggar-my-neighbour for a pipe of tobacco, on a long voyage when there is no work to be done, and--"
"Yes, I know," said Teresina, interrupting him. "You are very much alike, you too. But what has this about Ruggiero to do with me, that you tell me it all?"
"Who goes slowly, goes safely, and who goes safely goes far," answered Bastianello. "Listen to me. Ruggiero has also seven hundred and sixty-three francs in the bank, and will soon have more, because he saves his money carefully, though he is not stingy. And Ruggiero, if you will have him, will work for you, and I will also work for you, and you shall have a good house, and plenty to eat and good clothes besides the gold--"
"But Bastianello mio!" cried Teresina, who had suspected what was coming, "I do not want to marry Ruggiero at all."
She clasped her hands and gazed into the sailor's eyes with a pretty look of confusion and regret.
"You do not want to marry Ruggiero!" Bastianello's expression certainly betrayed more surprise than disappointment. But he had honestly pleaded his brother's cause. "Then you do not love him," he said, as though unable to recover from his astonishment.
"But no--I do not love him at all, though he is so handsome and good."
"Madonna mia!" exclaimed Bastianello, turning sharply round and moving away a step or two. He was in great perturbation of spirit, for he loved the girl dearly, and he began to fear that he had not done his best for Ruggiero.
"But you did love him a few days ago," he said, coming back to Teresina's side.
"Indeed, I never did!" she said.
"Nor any one else?" asked Bastianello suddenly.
"Eh! I did not say that," answered the girl, blus.h.i.+ng a little and looking down.
"Well do not tell me his name, because I should tell Ruggiero, and Ruggiero might do him an injury. It is better not to tell me."
Teresina laughed a little.
"I shall certainly not tell you who he is," she said. "You can find that out for yourself, if you take the trouble."
"It is better not. Either Ruggiero or I might hurt him, and then there would be trouble."
"You, too?"
"Yes, I too." Bastianello spoke the words rather roughly and looked fixedly into Teresina's eyes. Since she did not love Ruggiero, why should he not speak? Yet he felt as though he were not quite loyal to his brother.
Teresina's cheeks grew red and then a little pale. She twisted the cord of the Venetian blind round and round her hand, looking down at it all the time. Bastianello stood motionless before her, staring at her thick black hair.
"Well?" asked Teresina looking up and meeting his eyes and then lowering her own quickly again.
"What, Teresina?" asked Bastianello in a changed voice.
"You say you also might do that man an injury whom I love. I suppose that is because you are so fond of your brother. Is it so?"
"Yes--and also--"
"Bastianello, do you love me too?" she asked in a very low tone, blus.h.i.+ng more deeply than before.
"Yes. I do. G.o.d knows it. I would not have said it, though. Ah, Teresina, you have made a traitor of me! I have betrayed my brother--and for what?"
"For me, Bastianello. But you have not betrayed him."
"Since you do not love him--" began the sailor in a tone of doubt.
"Not him, but another."
"And that other--"
"It is perhaps you, Bastianello," said Teresina, growing rather pale again.
"Me!" He could only utter the one word just then.
"Yes, you."
"My love!" Bastianello's arm went gently round her, and he whispered the words in her ear. She let him hold her so without resistance, and looked up into his face with happy eyes.
"Yes, your love--did you never guess it, dearest?" She was blus.h.i.+ng still, and smiling at the same time, and her voice sounded sweet to Bastianello.
Only a sailor and a serving-maid, but both honest and both really loving. There was not much eloquence about the courts.h.i.+p, as there had been about San Miniato's, and there was not the fierce pa.s.sion in Bastianello's breast that was eating up his brother's heart. Yet Beatrice, at least, would have changed places with Teresina if she could, and San Miniato could have held his head higher if there had ever been as much honesty in him as there was in Bastianello's every thought and action.
For Bastianello was very loyal, though he thought badly enough of his own doings, and when Beatrice called Teresina away a few minutes later, he marched down the corridor with resolute steps, meaning not to lose a moment in telling Ruggiero the whole truth, how he had honestly said the best things he could for him and had asked Teresina to marry him, and how he, Bastianello, had been betrayed into declaring his love, and had found, to his amazement, that he was loved in return.