Vestigia Volume Ii Part 12

'_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 pa.s.sed 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 ash.o.r.e. 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 sc.r.a.pe, 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 sc.r.a.pe 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.