Jerry | Page 6

to reclimb the wall--and he did not--he must go by the terrace, which retreat was cut off by the washer-women, or by the parapet, already occupied by the girl in white and the washing. He turned abruptly and his elbow brushed a stocking to the ground.
He stooped to pick it up and then he blushed still a shade deeper.
'This is washing day,' observed the girl with a note of apology. She rose to her feet and stood on the top of the parapet while she beckoned to Giuseppe, then she turned and looked down upon the young man with an expression of frank amusement. 'I hope you will enjoy the cedar of Lebanon and the india-rubber tree. Good afternoon.'
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 humour; 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 courtyard 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?'
'To-morrow morning for the first boat.'
Gustavo bowed to the inevitable; and the young man passed on. He paused half-way across the courtyard.
'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 courtyard, paused for a moment to tease the parrot, and sauntered on to his favourite 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