The Dodge Club Part 40

"I will be very late to-night," said Pepita, timidly.

"But are you much later than usual?"

"Oh, very much!"

"There is no danger, is there? But if there is you are safe. I can protect you. Can you trust me?"

"Yes," said Pepita, in a low voice.

It was too dark to see the swiftly-changing color of Pepita's face as d.i.c.k murmured some words in her ear. But her hand trembled violently as d.i.c.k held it. She did not say a word in response. d.i.c.k stood still for a moment and begged her to answer him. She made an effort and whispered some indistinct syllables. Whereupon d.i.c.k called her by every endearing name that he could think of, and--Hasty footsteps!

Exclamations! Shouts! They were surrounded! Twelve men or more-- stout, strong fellows, magnified by the gloom. Pepita shrieked.

"Who are you?" cried d.i.c.k. "Away, or I'll shoot you all. I'm armed."

"Boh!" said one of the men, contemptuously. "Off!" cried d.i.c.k, as the fellow drew near. He put himself before Pepita to protect her, and thrust his right hand in the breast-pocket of his coat.

"Who is that with you?" said a voice. At the sound of the voice Pepita uttered a cry. Darting from behind d.i.c.k she rushed up to him.

"It is Pepita, Luigi!"

"Pepita! Sister! What do you mean by this?" said the man hoa.r.s.ely.

"Why are you so late? Who is this man?"

"An American gentleman who walked out as far as this to protect me,"

said Pepita, bursting into tears.

"An American gentleman!" said Luigi, with a bitter sneer. "He came to protect you, did he? Well; we will show him in a few minutes how grateful we are."

d.i.c.k stood with folded arms awaiting the result of all this.

"Luigi! dearest brother!" cried Pepita, with a shudder, "on my soul --in the name of the Holy Mother--he is an honorable American gentleman, and he came to protect me."

"Oh! we know, and we will reward him."

"Luigi! Luigi!" moaned Pepita, "if you hurt him I will die!"

"Ah! Has it come to that?" said Luigi, bitterly. "A half-hour's acquaintance, and you talk of dying. Here, Pepita; go home with Ricardo."

"I will not. I will not go a step unless you let him go."

"Oh, we will let him go!"

"Promise me you will not hurt him."

"Pepita, go home!" cried her brother, sternly.

"I will not unless you promise."

"Foolish girl! Do you suppose we are going to break the laws and get into trouble? No, no. Come, go home with Ricardo. I'm going to the city."

Ricardo came forward, and Pepita allowed herself to be led away.

When she was out of sight and hearing Luigi approached d.i.c.k. Amid the gloom d.i.c.k did not see the wrath and hate that might have been on his face, but the tone of his voice was pa.s.sionate and menacing. He prepared for the worst. "That is my sister.--Wretch! what did you mean?"

"I swear--"

"Peace! We will give you cause to remember her."

d.i.c.k saw that words and excuses were useless. He thought his hour had come. He resolved to die game. He hadn't a pistol. His manoeuvre of putting his hand in his pocket was merely intended to deceive. The Italians thought that if he had one he would have done more than mention it. He would at least have shown it. He had stationed himself under a tree. The men were before him. Luigi rushed at him like a wild beast. d.i.c.k gave him a tremendous blow between his eyes that knocked him headlong.

"You can kill me," he shouted, "but you'll find it hard work!"

Up jumped Luigi, full of fury; half a dozen others rushed simultaneously at d.i.c.k. He struck out two vigorous blows, which crashed against the faces of two of them. The next moment he was on the ground. On the ground, but striking well-aimed blows and kicking vigorously. He kicked one fellow completely over. The brutal Italians struck and kicked him in return. At last a tremendous blow descended on his head. He sank senseless.

When he revived it was intensely dark. He was covered with painful bruises. His head ached violently. He could see nothing. He arose and tried to walk, but soon fell exhausted. So he crawled closer to the trunk of the tree, and groaned there in his pain. At last he fell into a light sleep, that was much interrupted by his suffering.

He awoke at early twilight. He was stiff and sore, but very much refreshed. His head did not pain so excessively. He heard the trickling of water near, and saw a brook. There he went and washed himself. The water revived him greatly. Fortunately his clothes were only slightly torn. After was.h.i.+ng the blood from his face, and b.u.t.toning his coat over his bloodstained s.h.i.+rt, and brus.h.i.+ng the dirt from his clothes, he ventured to return to the city.

He crawled rather than walked, often stopping to rest, and once almost fainting from utter weakness. But at last he reached the city, and managed to find a wine-cart, the only vehicle that he could see, which took him to his lodgings. He reached his room before any of the others were up, and went to bed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: An Interruption.]

CHAPTER XXVII.

d.i.c.k ON THE SICK LIST.--RAPTURE OF b.u.t.tONS AT MAKING AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY.

Great was the surprise of all on the following morning at finding that d.i.c.k was confined to his bed. All were very anxious, and even b.u.t.tons showed considerable feeling. For as much as a quarter of an hour he ceased thinking about the Spaniards. Poor d.i.c.k! What on earth was the matter? Had he fever? No. Perhaps it was the damp night-air. He should not have been out so late. Where was he? A confounded pity! The Doctor felt his pulse. There was no fever. The patient was very pale, and evidently in great pain. His complaint was a mystery. However, the Doctor recommended perfect quiet, and hoped that a few days would restore him. d.i.c.k said not a word about the events of the evening. He thought it would do no good to tell them. He was in great pain. His body was black with frightful bruises, and the depression of his mind was as deep as the pain of his body.

The others went out at their usual hour.

The kind-hearted Senator remained at home all day, and sat by d.i.c.k's bedside, sometimes talking, sometimes reading. d.i.c.k begged him not to put himself to so much inconvenience on his account; but such language was distasteful to the Senator.

"My boy," he said, "I know that you would do as much for me. Besides, it is a far greater pleasure to do any thing for you than to walk about merely to gratify myself. Don't apologize, or tell me that I am troubling myself. Leave me to do as I please."

d.i.c.k's grateful look expressed more than words.

In a few days his pain had diminished, and it was evident that he would be out in a fortnight or so. The kind attentions of his friends affected him greatly. They all spent more time than ever in his room, and never came there without bringing some little trifle, such as grapes, oranges, or other fruit. The Senator hunted all over Rome for a book, and found Victor Hugo's works, which he bought on a venture, and had the gratification of seeing that it was acceptable.

All suspected something. The Doctor had contended from the first that d.i.c.k had met with an accident. They had too much delicacy to question him, but made many conjectures amongst themselves. The Doctor thought that he had been among some ruins, and met with a fall. Mr. Figgs suggested that he might have been run over. The Senator thought it was some Italian epidemic. b.u.t.tons was incapable of thinking rationally about any thing just then. He was the victim of a monomania: the Spaniards!

About a week after d.i.c.k's adventure b.u.t.tons was strolling about on his usual quest, when he was attracted by a large crowd around the Chiesa di Gesu. The splendid equipages of the cardinals were crowded about the princ.i.p.al entrance, and from the interior sounds of music came floating magnificently down. b.u.t.tons went in to see what was going on. A vast crowd filled the church. Priests in gorgeous vestments officiated at the high altar, which was all ablaze with the light of enormous wax-candles. The gloom of the interior was heightened by the clouds of incense that rolled on high far within the vaulted ceiling.