"I am older than you!"

And he started off again at the same cruel pace.

"I was born in '88, you know," Puttini groaned.

"And I, in '85!" Ribera flung over his shoulder, without stopping. "Now come along."

Fortunately for Puttini they had only a few steps more to go. There was the great wall that supported the consecrated ground about the church of Castello, and there was the narrow stairway leading up to the entrance of the village. Now they must turn into the dark pa.s.sage below the priest's house, feeling their way along like blind men through this black hole, in which Signor Giacomo's imagination pictured so many treacherous and slippery stones, so many accursed, deceitful steps, that he stopped short, and, resting his clasped hands on the k.n.o.b of his stick, spoke as follows--

"By the body of the rogue Bacchus! No, most worshipful engineer, no, no, no! Really I cannot. I shall remain here. They will surely come to church. The church is near by. I shall wait here. Body of the rogue Bacchus!"

This last "Body!" Signor Giacomo ground privately between his teeth, like the close of an inward soliloquy concerning the accessories surrounding the exceeding discomfort he was undergoing.

"Wait a minute," said the engineer.

A thread of light appeared under the church door. The engineer entered and presently came out again, accompanied by the sacristan, who had been preparing the ha.s.socks for the bride and groom. He now brought to Puttini's rescue the long pole with a lighted taper at the end, which was used to light the candles on the altars. Thus, standing in the church door, he moved the taper along in front of Signor Giacomo's feet as far as the pole would reach, while that gentleman, but ill-satisfied with this religious illumination, groped his way forward, grumbling at the darkness, the miserable, sacred taper, and at him who held it, until at last, abandoned by the sacristan, and seized by the engineer, he was dragged along, much like a pike at the end of a line, and, in spite of his mute resistance, was finally landed on the threshold of Casa Rigey.

At Castello the houses which stand in unbroken line on the winding hill-top, enjoying the sun and the view of the lake far below, all white and smiling on the side towards the open, all dark on the side towards that other row of less fortunate houses, which rise sadly behind them, resemble certain favoured individuals, who, brought into too close contact with misery, a.s.sume a hostile demeanour, and press close to one another that, thus united, they may hold the others in check. Among these fortunate ones Casa Rigey is one of the darkest on the side facing the poverty of the common houses, one of the brightest on the side facing the sun.

From the street door a long and narrow corridor leads to a small, open loggia, from which, by means of a few steps, one may descend to the little white terrace which, between the reception room and a high, windowless wall, stretches out to the edge of the hill, looking down into the ravines from which issues the Soldo, looking down upon the lake, as far as the green gulfs of the Birosin and of the Doi, as far as the quiet sweeps beyond Caprino and Gandria.

Signor Rigey, born in Milan of a French father, had been professor of the French language at Madame Berra's boarding school, but he had lost his position there, and most of his private pupils, because it was rumoured of him that he was irreligious. In 1825 he had purchased this little house, and retired to it from Milan, wishing to live economically and peacefully. He had, soon afterwards, married the sister of the civil-engineer Ribera. Dying in 1844 he left his wife with a daughter of fifteen, the house and a few thousand _svanziche_.[F]

Hardly had the engineer knocked somewhat noisily at the door, when light, swift steps were heard in the corridor. The door was thrown open and a voice neither low nor silvery, but indescribably harmonious, whispered: "What a noise, Uncle!" "Noise indeed!" her uncle replied with mock dignity. "Am I then expected to knock with my nose?" His niece placed one hand over his mouth, and with the other drew him inside; then she saluted Signor Giacomo gracefully, and closed the door. All this was accomplished in the twinkling of an eye, while Signor Giacomo himself was puffing out: "Your most humble servant! I am really delightful----"

"Thank you, thank you!" said Luisa. "Pray go in, I have a word to say to Uncle."

The little man went forward, hat in hand, and the young girl tenderly embraced her old uncle, kissing him, pressing her face to his breast, and clasping her arms about his neck.

"Won't that do now?" said the engineer, almost as if to check these caresses, for in them he felt a grat.i.tude which he feared would presently take the form of words. "There, there! That is enough! How is Mamma?" Luisa's only reply was a tightening of her embrace. This uncle was more than a father to her, he was the special Providence of the house, but, in his great and simple bounty, he never dreamed that he had the slightest claim to the grat.i.tude of his sister and niece. Whatever would these poor women have done without him, possessing only that meagre sum of twelve or fifteen thousand _svanziche_ which Rigey had left? As civil-engineer, employed on public works, Ribera enjoyed a good salary. He lived frugally at Como with an old housekeeper, pa.s.sing his savings on to Casa Rigey. At first he had openly and heartily disapproved of Luisa's attachment for Franco, for it seemed to him that such a union would be but ill-a.s.sorted; but the young people being determined, and his sister having consented, he made up his mind to help them in every possible way, keeping his opinions to himself.

"And Mamma?" he repeated.

"She was feeling very well this evening because she was so happy, but now she is agitated, for Franco came about half an hour ago, and told her he has had something of a scene with his grandmother----"

"Oh dear me!" the engineer exclaimed. Whenever he heard of a misfortune befalling any one else he always uttered this expression of self-commiseration.

"No, Uncle! Indeed Franco is right!"

Luisa p.r.o.nounced these words with sudden warmth. "Yes indeed!" she exclaimed, her uncle having uttered a doubtful "Hm!" "He is perfectly right. But," she added in a low tone, "he says he left home in such a manner that his grandmother will probably discover everything."

"It will be better so," said her uncle, starting towards the terrace.

The moon had set and it was dark. Luisa whispered: "Mamma is here."

Signora Teresa, who was suffering for want of breath, had had herself drawn out into the terrace in her easy-chair, hoping to find relief in the open air.

"What do you say to this, Piero?" said a voice resembling Luisa's in tone, but sweeter and with a tired ring; a voice that seemed to come from a gentle heart which the world has used harshly, and which must yield. "What do you say to this? After all, our precautions will be of no avail."

"No, no, Mamma. We are not sure of that. We cannot say so yet!"

While Luisa was speaking, Franco, who was in the salon with the curate, came out to embrace the engineer.

"Well," said Ribera, extending his hand, for embraces were little to his taste. "What has happened?"

Franco related what had taken place, softening somewhat certain too offensive expressions of his grandmother's concerning the Rigeys, concealing her threat of not leaving him a penny, and blaming his own over-susceptibility rather than the old-woman's ill-nature, and finally confessing that he had purposely let it be known that he intended to remain out all night. This could have no other effect than that of leading his grandmother to an immediate discovery, for she would question him concerning this absence, and his silence would be a confession, for he did not intend to lie about this matter.

"Listen!" Uncle Piero exclaimed, with the ringing voice and open countenance of the perfectly straightforward man who, being smothered to the point of suffocation with precautions and dissimulations, finally strikes out from the shoulder and, casting them off, breathes freely once more. "I admit you were wrong to irritate your grandmother, for, after all, old people must be respected even when they err; I see that the consequences may be serious, but nevertheless I am glad things are as they are, and I should be more glad if you had told your grandmother everything, clearly and roundly. I have never had any patience with all this secrecy, all this feigning and hiding. The honest man openly confesses his actions. You desire to marry against your grandmother's wishes? Well do so, but, at least, don't deceive her."

"But Piero!" Signora Teresa exclaimed, who, besides a delicate perception of what life should be, possessed an accurate sense of what life really is, and, being much more given to religious exercises than her brother, and standing on a more familiar footing with the Almighty, could most easily persuade herself that He would make certain concessions in the matter of form, when some substantial benefit was to be gained.

"But Piero! You don't think! If the Marchesa finds out about the marriage this way, she will, of course, refuse to receive Luisa into her house, and then what are the children to do? Where can they go? There is no room here, and even if there were, nothing is ready. At your house it is the same. You must consider all these points. If we wished to keep the marriage a secret for a month or two, it was not in order to deceive, it was to gain time in which to win over Franco's grandmother, and if she would not yield, to prepare one or two rooms at Oria."

"Oh, dear me!" said the engineer, "Does it take two months to do that?

It seems incredible!"

At this point a prolonged puff in the shadow reminded them of Signor Giacomo's presence; he was leaning against the wall in one corner not daring to move, because it was so dark.

Signora Teresa had not yet welcomed him.

"Oh, Signor Giacomo!" she now hastened to say. "I beg your pardon. I am really so very, very much obliged to you! Pray come this way. Did you hear what we were saying? Do let us have your opinion."

"Your very humble servant," said Signor Giacomo from his corner. "Really I dare not move, for with my poor sight----"

"Luisa!" Signora Teresa called. "Bring a lamp. But did you hear, Signor Giacomo? What do you think about it? Do tell us."

In his profound wisdom Signor Giacomo emitted three or four little hasty puffs which meant: Ah, this is indeed an embarra.s.sing question!

"I cannot say," he began hesitatingly, "I cannot say at present, being in the dark----"

"Luisa!" Signora Teresa called once more.

"No, no, Signora! I mean being in the dark on so many points. I feel that in my ignorance I may not p.r.o.nounce an opinion. Still I will say it seems to me that perhaps it might ... well, at any rate, I am here at your service and at the service of this most respected family, though indeed I should not be astonished if the Imperial and Royal Commissary--a most excellent person, but very punctilious.... But enough, we will not talk of that, for here I am. But I do say, it seems to me that we might wait a little while, and our most n.o.ble friend Don Franco here might be able to wheedle and persuade.... Well, well, well.

Do as you like. It is all the same to me."

A furious protest on Franco's part had caused Signor Giuseppe to face about thus suddenly. Luisa seconded this protest, and Signora Teresa, who now would perhaps have been in favour of a postponement, did not venture to oppose their wishes.

"Luisa, Franco," said she, "take me back to the salon."

The two young people pushed the easy-chair into the salon, followed by Uncle Piero and Signor Giacomo.

On the threshold Luisa, bending over her mother, kissed her hair, and murmured: "You will see. All will be for the best."

She had expected to find the curate in the salon, but he had slipped away through the kitchen.

Hardly had Franco and Luisa pushed the invalid's chair up to the table upon which stood the lamp, when the sacristan came to say that everything was ready. Signora Teresa asked him to inform the curate that the bride and groom would go to church in half an hour.