Jerry

by Jean Webster

  CHAPTER VII

  On the homeward journey Tony again trudged behind while the officers heldtheir post at Constance's side. But Tony's spirits were still singingfrom the little encounter on the castle platform, and in spite of theanimated Italian which floated back, he was determined to look at thesunny side of the adventure. It was Mr. Wilder who unconsciously suppliedhim with a second opportunity for conversation. He and the Englishman,being deep in a discussion involving statistics of the Italian armybudget, called on the two officers to set them straight. Tony, at theirorder, took his place beside the saddle; Constance was not to beabandoned again to Fidilini's caprice. Miss Hazel and the Englishwomanwere ambling on ahead in as matter-of-fact a fashion as if that weretheir usual mode of travel. Their donkeys were of a sedater turn of mindthan Fidilini--a fact for which Tony offered thanks.

  They were by this time well over the worst part of the mountain, and thebrief Italian twilight was already fading. Tony, with a sharp eye on thepath ahead and a ready hand for the bridle, was attending strictly to theduties of a well-trained donkey-man. It was Constance again who openedthe conversation.

  'Ah, Tony?'

  '_Si_, signorina?'

  'Did you ever read any Angleesh books--or do you do most of your readingin Magyar?'

  'I haf read one, two, Angleesh books.'

  'Did you ever read--er--_The Lightning Conductor_, for example?'

  'No, signorina; I haf never read heem.'

  'I think it would interest you. It's about a man who pretends he's achauffeur in order to--to---- There are any number of books with the samemotive; _She Stoops to Conquer_, _Two Gentlemen of Verona_, _LallaRookh_, _Monsieur Beaucaire_--Oh, dozens of them! It's an old plot; itdoesn't require the slightest originality to think of it.'

  '_Si_, signorina? Sank you.' Tony's tone was exactly like Gustavo's whenhe has failed to get the point, but feels that a comment is necessary.

  Constance laughed and allowed a silence to follow, while Tony redirectedhis attention to Fidilini's movements. His 'Yip! Yip!' was an exactimitation, though in a deeper guttural, of Beppo's cries before them. Itwould have taken a close observer to suspect that he had not been bred tothe calling.

  'You have not always been a donkey-driver?' she inquired after aninterval of amused scrutiny.

  'Not always, signorina.'

  'What did you do in New York?'

  'I play hand-organ, signorina.'

  Tony removed his hand from the bridle and ground 'Yankee Doodle' from animaginary instrument.

  'I make musica, signorina, wif--wif--how do you say, monk, monka? Hisname Vittorio Emanuele. Ver' nice monk--simpatica affezionata.'

  'You've never been an actor?'

  'An actor? No, signorina.'

  'You should try it; I fancy you might have some talent in thatdirection.'

  '_Si_, signorina. Sank you.'

  She let the conversation drop, and Tony, after an interval of silence,fell to humming Santa Lucia in a very presentable baritone. The tune,Constance noted, was true enough, but the words were far astray.

  'That's a very pretty song, Tony, but you don't appear to know it.'

  'I no understand Italian, signorina. I just learn ze tune becauseCostantina like it.'

  'You do everything that Costantina wishes?'

  'Everysing! But if you could see her you would not wonder. She has hairbrown and gold, and her eyes, signorina, are sometimes grey and sometimesblack, and her laugh sounds like----'

  'Oh, yes, I know; you told me all that before.'

  'When she goes out to work in ze morning, signorina, wif the sunlightshining on her hair, and a smile on her lips, and a basket of clothes onher head---- Ah, _zen_ she is beautiful!'

  'When are you going to be married?'

  'I do not know, signorina. I have not asked her yet.'

  'Then how do you know she wishes to marry you?'

  'I do not know; I just hope.'

  He rolled his eyes toward the moon which was rising above the mountainson the other side of the lake, and with a deep sigh he fell back intoSanta Lucia.

  Constance leaned forward and scanned his face.

  'Tony! Tell me your name.' There was an undertone of meaning, a note ofpersuasion in her voice.

  'Antonio, signorina.'

  She shook her head with a show of impatience.

  'Your real name--your last name.'

  'Yamhankeesh.'

  'Oh!' she laughed. 'Antonio Yamhankeesh doesn't seem to me a very musicalcombination; I don't think I ever heard anything like it before.'

  'It suits me, signorina.' His tone carried a suggestion of woundeddignity. 'Yamhankeesh has a ver' beautiful meaning in my language--"Hewho dares not, wins not."'

  'And that is your motto?'

  '_Si_, signorina.'

  'A very dangerous motto, Tony; it will some day get you into trouble.'

  They had reached the base of the mountain, and their path now broadenedinto the semblance of a road which wound through the fields, betweenfragrant hedgerows, under towering chestnut trees. All about them was thefragrance of the dewy, flower-scented summer night, the flash offireflies, the chirp of crickets, occasionally the note of a nightingale.Before them out of a cluster of cypresses, rose the square gracefuloutline of the village campanile.

  Constance looked about with a pleased, contented sigh.

  'Isn't Italy beautiful, Tony?'

  'Yes, signorina, but I like America better.'

  'We have no cypresses and ruins and nightingales in America, Tony. Wehave a moon sometimes, but not that moon.'

  They passed from the moonlight into the shade of some overhangingchestnut trees. Fidilini stumbled suddenly over a break in the path andTony pulled him up sharply. His hand on the bridle rested for an instantover hers.

  'Italy is beautiful--to make love in,' he whispered.

  She drew her hand away abruptly, and they passed out into the moonlightagain. Ahead of them where the road branched into the highway, the otherswere waiting for Constance to catch up, the two officers looking backwith an eager air of expectation. Tony glanced ahead and added with aquick frown--

  'But perhaps I do not need to tell you that--you may know it already?'

  'You are impertinent, Tony.'

  She pulled the donkey into a trot that left him behind.

  The highway was broad and they proceeded in a group, the conversationgeneral and in English, Tony quite naturally having no part in it. But atthe corners where the road to the village and the road to the villaseparated, Fidilini obligingly turned stubborn again. His mind bent uponrest and supper, he insisted upon going to the village; the harderConstance pulled on the left rein, the more fixed was his determinationto turn to the right.

  'Help! I'm being run away with again,' she called over her shoulder asthe donkey's pace quickened into a trot.

  Tony, awakening to his duty, started in pursuit, while the otherslaughingly shouted directions. He did not run as determinedly as hemight, and they had covered considerable ground before he overtook them.He turned Fidilini's head and they started back--at a walk.

  'Signorina,' said Tony, 'may I ask a question, a little impertinent?'

  'No, certainly not.'

  Silence.

  'Ah, Tony?' she asked presently.

  '_Si_, signorina?'

  'What is it you want to ask?'

  'Are you going to marry that Italian lieutenant--or perhaps the captain?'

  'That _is_ impertinent.'

  'Are you?'

  'You forget yourself, Tony. It is not your place to ask such a question.'

  '_Si_, signorina; it is my place. If it is true I cannot be yourdonkey-man any longer.'

  'No, it is not true, but that is no concern of yours.'

  'Are you going on another trip Friday--to Monte Maggiore?'

  'Yes.'

  'May I come with you?'

  His tone implied more than his words. She hesitated a moment, thenshrugged indifferently.

  'Just as you
please, Tony. If you don't wish to work for us any more Idare say we can find another man.'

  'It is as you please, signorina. If you wish it, I come, if you do notwish it, I go.'

  She made no answer. They joined the others and the party proceeded to thevilla gates.

  Lieutenant di Ferara helped Constance dismount, while Captain Coroloni,with none too good a grace, held the donkey. A careful observer wouldhave fancied that the lieutenant was ahead, and that both he and thecaptain knew it. Tony untied the bundles, dumped them on the kitchenfloor, and waited respectfully, hat in hand, while Mr. Wilder searchedhis pockets for change. He counted out four lire and added a note. Tonypocketed the lire and returned the note, while Mr. Wilder stared hisastonishment.

  'Good-bye, Tony,' Constance smiled as he turned away.

  'Good-bye, signorina.' There was a note of finality in his voice.

  'Well!' Mr. Wilder ejaculated. 'That is the first----' 'Italian' hestarted to say, but he caught the word before it was out--'donkey-driverI ever saw refuse money.'

  Lieutenant di Ferara raised his shoulders.

  '_Mache_! The fellow is too honest; you do well to watch him.' There wasa world of disgust in his tone.

  Constance glanced after the retreating figure and laughed.

  'Tony!' she called.

  He kept on; she raised her voice.

  'Mr. Yamhankeesh.'

  He paused.

  'You call, signorina?'

  'Be sure and be here by half-past six on Friday morning; we must startearly.'

  'Sank you, signorina. Good night.'

  'Good night, Tony.'