up, the two officers looking back with an eager air of expectation. Tony glanced ahead and added with a quick 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 conversation general and in English, Tony quite naturally having no part in it. But at the corners where the road to the village and the road to the villa separated, Fidilini obligingly turned stubborn again. His mind bent upon rest and supper, he insisted upon going to the village; the harder Constance pulled on the left rein, the more fixed was his determination to turn to the right.
'Help! I'm being run away with again,' she called over her shoulder as the donkey's pace quickened into a trot.
Tony, awakening to his duty, started in pursuit, while the others laughingly shouted directions. He did not run as determinedly as he might, 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 your donkey-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, then shrugged indifferently.
'Just as you please, Tony. If you don't wish to work for us any more I dare say we can find another man.'
'It is as you please, signorina. If you wish it, I come, if you do not wish it, I go.'
She made no answer. They joined the others and the party proceeded to the villa gates.
Lieutenant di Ferara helped Constance dismount, while Captain Coroloni, with none too good a grace, held the donkey. A careful observer would have fancied that the lieutenant was ahead, and that both he and the captain knew it. Tony untied the bundles, dumped them on the kitchen floor, and waited respectfully, hat in hand, while Mr. Wilder searched his pockets for change. He counted out four lire and added a note. Tony pocketed the lire and returned the note, while Mr. Wilder stared his astonishment.
'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' he started to say, but he caught the word before it was out--'donkey-driver I ever saw refuse money.'
Lieutenant di Ferara raised his shoulders.
' Machè ! The fellow is too honest; you do well to watch him.' There was a 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 start early.'
'Sank you, signorina. Good night.'
'Good night, Tony.'
CHAPTER VIII
The Hotel du Lac may be approached in two ways. The ordinary, obvious way, which incoming tourists of necessity choose, is by the high road and the gate. But the romantic way is by water. One sees only the garden then, and the garden is the distinguished feature of the place; it was planned long before the hotel was built to adorn a marquis's pleasure house. There are grottos, arbours, fountains, a winding stream, and, stretching the length of the water front, a deep cool grove of interlaced plane trees. At the end of the grove, half a dozen broad stone steps dip down to a tiny harbour which is carpeted on the surface with lily
'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 conversation general and in English, Tony quite naturally having no part in it. But at the corners where the road to the village and the road to the villa separated, Fidilini obligingly turned stubborn again. His mind bent upon rest and supper, he insisted upon going to the village; the harder Constance pulled on the left rein, the more fixed was his determination to turn to the right.
'Help! I'm being run away with again,' she called over her shoulder as the donkey's pace quickened into a trot.
Tony, awakening to his duty, started in pursuit, while the others laughingly shouted directions. He did not run as determinedly as he might, 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 your donkey-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, then shrugged indifferently.
'Just as you please, Tony. If you don't wish to work for us any more I dare say we can find another man.'
'It is as you please, signorina. If you wish it, I come, if you do not wish it, I go.'
She made no answer. They joined the others and the party proceeded to the villa gates.
Lieutenant di Ferara helped Constance dismount, while Captain Coroloni, with none too good a grace, held the donkey. A careful observer would have fancied that the lieutenant was ahead, and that both he and the captain knew it. Tony untied the bundles, dumped them on the kitchen floor, and waited respectfully, hat in hand, while Mr. Wilder searched his pockets for change. He counted out four lire and added a note. Tony pocketed the lire and returned the note, while Mr. Wilder stared his astonishment.
'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' he started to say, but he caught the word before it was out--'donkey-driver I ever saw refuse money.'
Lieutenant di Ferara raised his shoulders.
' Machè ! The fellow is too honest; you do well to watch him.' There was a 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 start early.'
'Sank you, signorina. Good night.'
'Good night, Tony.'
CHAPTER VIII
The Hotel du Lac may be approached in two ways. The ordinary, obvious way, which incoming tourists of necessity choose, is by the high road and the gate. But the romantic way is by water. One sees only the garden then, and the garden is the distinguished feature of the place; it was planned long before the hotel was built to adorn a marquis's pleasure house. There are grottos, arbours, fountains, a winding stream, and, stretching the length of the water front, a deep cool grove of interlaced plane trees. At the end of the grove, half a dozen broad stone steps dip down to a tiny harbour which is carpeted on the surface with lily
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