To Leeward Part 34

"Have you any idea where I was going?" asked Julius, laughing a little.

"Not the least. You were not going anywhere; you were out for a row, I suppose, because you wanted the air." She looked a little puzzled.

"If you had not overtaken me, I should never have seen you again," he said, looking at her affectionately.

"What do you mean?" she asked, rather startled.

"Simply this, I was running away. I was engaged to dine with you that evening, and I was going to Naples to get out of it. I would have sent a telegram about urgent business--or anything."

"What an idea!" she exclaimed, laughing. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I knew what would happen if I stayed," said he, softly.

"But you did not care for me then?" she asked, quickly.

"Oh, yes, I did," he answered; "and I knew I should care a great deal more." His eyes burned in the bright light of the afternoon.

"But I did not love you in the least then," said Leonora, demurely.

"No, of course not--and I did not flatter myself that you would. But I knew I was going to love you with all my heart."

Again their hands met for a moment, and a couple of sailors, who watched them from a distance, nudged each other and grinned.

"When did you first begin to care, dear?" he said presently.

"Seriously? What a silly question, Julius. How can I tell?"

"It was after I found you in the church, was it not?"

"Yes, indeed. Ever so long after that!"

"About two days?" he suggested gravely.

"How absurd, Julius," she said with a little air of offended dignity that was charming. "You know it was ever so long."

"I wonder what you thought of me, when you turned round and saw me looking at you in the church," said he. He really had not an idea, and was curious to know.

"I thought you were very rude," said she. "And afterwards I thought you were very nice."

"I did not mean to be rude," said Julius, "but I could not help going in. I was in love with you, and I knew you were there."

"In love--already?" asked Leonora.

"Why--yes--it was at least a week after I tried to run away," said Julius innocently.

"It was exactly two days," said Leonora.

They both laughed, for it was quite true. It was very pleasant to recall the beginnings of their love, for it had all been sweet, and easy; it seemed so to them, at least, as the foresh.o.r.e hid Sorrento from their sight, and with it the scene of all they were discussing.

It was a beautiful voyage, along the coast in the summer sea. There was always enough breeze in the daytime, and there was the moon at night, and they always felt that if they were quite alone, on land, it would be even more charming, if possible. It is a great thing in happiness to know that there is to be more of it, and more and more, till at last the heart has its fill of joy.

They reached Genoa, and rested themselves for a day and a night in the glorious rooms of an old palace, turned into an hotel by the profane requirements of modern travellers. But it is very agreeable for travellers to sleep in palaces, by whatever names they are called, and it is foolish to say that moderns should build new buildings instead of making use of old ones when they have them ready to hand.

There is a set of people in the world who deal in cheap sentiments, and get themselves a reputation for taste by abusing everything modern and kneeling in rows before everything that is old. They grind out little mediaeval tunes with an expression of ravished delight, and tell you there is no modern music half so good,--in fact, that there is no modern music at all! Or they garnish themselves in queer white robes and toddle through a vile travesty of some ancient drama; or they build houses of strange appearance and hideous complication of style, having neither beauty without nor comfort within: and last of all, they say to themselves, Verily, we are the most artistic people in the world!

One of these persons could not have pa.s.sed an hour in the old palace which the Genoese have turned into an hotel. The bare idea of such profanity would have produced artistic convulsions at once, and untold suffering in the future by the mere memory of it. But neither Batis...o...b.. nor Leonora were people of that sort. Julius took a very different view of life, believing to some extent in the simple theory that useful things are good and useless things are bad, and that everything that really fulfils its purpose must have some beauty of its own. Moreover, Julius had very little reverence, but a profound intelligence of the comfortable; he would have slept as well in a king's tomb as in an American hotel, provided the furniture were to his taste in respect of length and breadth and upholstery. As for Leonora, she had been brought up chiefly in Italy, and never troubled herself with the intricacies of the art question in that country, taking everything to be natural so long as she always had the very best of it. And at present, being wholly in love, and having her heart's desire, she would even have been willing to put up with less luxury than usual. Her talent for supremacy, as Julius used to call it, had taken a person for its object, and found the dominion of a heart more interesting than the dominion of fas.h.i.+onable luxury, the finest horses, or even Mr. Worth.

"I used to hate hotels," said she to Julius, late in the evening, "but they seem very pleasant after all. There is never any fuss about anything; and I always seem to get just what I want."

"Oh--hotels are very well, if one understands them," he answered. He did not explain to her that her comfort was chiefly due to his forethought.

"You would soon find it a great bore, though," he added.

"I am sure I should not," said she. "You are so clever that you make everything seem easy for me."

Julius laughed, out of sheer satisfaction. These were just the little speeches he loved most from women, and, most of all, from Leonora. It would seem a harmless vanity of itself, but it leads to doing acts of forethought and courtesy for the sake of the praise instead of for the sake of the woman.

"It is very good of you to say so, my dear," he answered, modestly. "But we will change all that, by and by. When the heat is over we will go away, and live in the Greek islands. There are places worth going to, there."

"Oh, of all things how delightful!" cried Leonora, carried away by the new idea. "And have a house by the sea, and a boat, and Greek servants,--how lovely!"

"Meanwhile, dear," said Julius, "we will go and be cool in the old Carthusian monastery. It does not take long from here."

And so they left Genoa and reached Turin, where Batis...o...b.. found his box--the one that Marcantonio intended to watch so carefully--and took it away; thence they went to a place called Cuneo, a little southwards by the railway, in the Maritime Alps, which Leonora said were beautiful; and then they drove in an ancient diligence to the Certosa di Pesio, an old Carthusian monastery, as Julius had said, built over a wonderful mountain torrent, and surrounded with ancient chestnut-trees. Through the valley that opens away to northward you can catch a glimpse of Monte Rosa, when the setting sun gilds the snow, and the breeze brings down with it the freshness of the Alps. Leonora was enchanted with the place, with Batis...o...b..'s choice, with him, with everything.

"And to-morrow you will show me where you used to catch fish, and write your articles on Italian politics?" said she, as they came in from a short walk late in the evening.

That night Batis...o...b.. dispatched a letter to Rome.

CERTOSA DI PESIO, CUNEO,

MARITIME ALPS, _August 31_.

The Marchese Carantoni will find Mr. Julius Batis...o...b.. at the above address, with a friend.

That was all, but it gave Julius infinite satisfaction to send it. He had grudged the days that had pa.s.sed before he could send Carantoni the information. As for the "friend," he had seen two or three cavalry officers about the place as soon as he arrived, and he knew that he could rely on the a.s.sistance of some of them. Duels are easily arranged in Italy.

CHAPTER XXII.

When Marcantonio met Diana in the morning, she noticed at once the change in his appearance. He was still very pale, and his face was drawn in a peculiar expression; but he did not look so wild, and his eyes had regained their clearness.

Diana greeted him affectionately, but made no remark about his health, thinking it would annoy him. She herself had slept soundly and began the day with a new supply of strength.

"You are still determined to go to Turin?" she said, with half a question in her voice, but as though it were quite certain that he would answer in the affirmative.