Heimatlos Part 7

CHAPTER XIII

LAKE GARDA

Rico walked a few paces away from the station and looked about him.

This large white building, the open s.p.a.ce in front of it, the winding street in the distance, were all strange to him. He was positive that he had never seen them before. He had to confess to himself, "I have not come to the right place, after all."

He sadly followed along the path between the trees until he came to a turn in the road which brought him to a sudden standstill, for before him lay the sky-blue lake, the water s.h.i.+mmering in the suns.h.i.+ne.

Yonder were the towering hills in the distance, with the faint outlines of the white dwellings in the valleys. How familiar it seemed! Many a time he had stood just where he was at present. He recognized the trees, but where was the house? Oh, there should be a little white house near by, but it was gone! There was the street that led to it. How well he remembered it! There were the red flowers in the abundance he had been used to seeing. There ought to be a bridge a little farther down. In his eagerness to see it he ran toward it, and sure enough, it was there, just as memory had pictured it.

A flood of recollections overpowered him. It was here that a lovely, loving woman had held him by the hand,--his mother. In fancy he saw her face distinctly and heard the sweet words of her lips, and understood anew the love revealed in her youthful eyes. Throwing himself upon the gra.s.s, Rico wept bitterly.

The sun was setting before he dried his eyes and began to think of what he should do. The golden evening glow that his memory had cherished was on the water, the hills had taken the violet tints, and the fragrance of the roses perfumed the air. The beauty of the place comforted him, and he thought, "How I wish Stineli could see this!"

When Rico left the bridge, the sun had set and the light of day was fast fading away into darkness. It seemed more like a home than anything he had known for years, and he reluctantly left the place.

His first purpose was to take a closer look at the red flowers that he had noticed in the garden. He found a path leading from the street, where he could obtain a good view of them. It seemed to Rico that there must be bushels of the buds among the trees, shrubs, and vines.

Again he thought, "If only Stineli could see them!"

Rico could see a st.u.r.dy boy in the garden, cutting grapes from the vines. The side door of the attractive white house in front of the garden stood wide open. The young man noticed Rico and stopped his whistling to say, "Come here and play a tune if you can." This was said in Italian, and Rico wondered at his own understanding of the words, for he was sure that he could not _speak_ like that. After the young man had asked some questions and discovered that Rico could not answer, he directed him to the house to play there.

Rico stopped at the door and played and sang Stineli's song from beginning to end. Through the open door he noticed a lady sitting beside a child's bed, sewing. When Rico was about to turn away, a little pale face was raised from the pillow and he heard a voice say, "Play some more, please."

Rico played another melody and again turned to go, but the child repeated, "Play some more."

So it happened time after time until Rico had played all the tunes he knew. When the little boy saw that Rico was really going away, he began to cry, begging Rico to come to him. The lady came out, offering a coin to Rico, who had played for the child with no thought of money.

Then it occurred to him again that Stineli had said that people would give him something if he played for them, so he took it and put it into his pocket.

The lady asked where Rico came from and where he was going, but he could not answer.

"Have you parents here?" she continued, and Rico shook his head in reply, thus telling her that he could understand. Then she asked if he were all alone, and Rico nodded. "Then where will you go?" she questioned, and Rico shook his head with a little gesture to indicate that he did not know.

The lady called the young man from the garden, and Rico heard her direct him to take the child to the hotel for the night, and to tell the landlord that the bill for lodging and supper was to be sent to her. "Perhaps the people at the hotel can understand the language he speaks," she said. "He must have been away a long time to forget so much. He is too young to be out alone, and I want you to tell them to show him the way he wishes to go in the morning."

The little invalid was still crying, and the mother at last asked Rico if he would come to see him in the morning. As soon as he saw Rico nod his a.s.sent, the boy was satisfied.

It was about ten minutes' walk to the city proper. The young man led Rico directly to the landlady and explained his errand. In the meantime Rico noticed that the living room was filled with men who were smoking and talking. He heard the landlady dismiss the boy with, "Very well, I will do as you say."

She looked Rico over from head to foot as she asked him where he came from. He answered in German that he had come down the Maloja and could understand what the people said, although he could not speak in the same way. The landlord, who understood German, told Rico that he had been up to the mountains himself.

"We will talk about it later," he said, "if you will play for the guests a few moments first." They had called for music as soon as they saw the violin.

Rico was very tired, but he obediently played and sang, beginning as usual with Stineli's song. None of the guests understood German, and they talked and laughed during the song. As soon as he had finished, some one called for a lively tune, and Rico tried to think of something they might like. He had never heard the music of the dance halls, but he finally thought of

"Una sera In Peschiera."

The men joined Rico in the singing, much to his surprise, and they made the strongest chorus he had ever heard. It was fine to lead so many voices, and he played through the whole number of verses.

When the song was ended, there was such a jubilee that Rico could not imagine what it meant. They surrounded him, shaking his hands and patting his shoulders, and then asked him to drink with them.

Rico was bewildered, for he could not understand their surprise that he, a stranger, should know their song,--the song that no one outside their locality would care to learn. Moreover, he had played it with feeling, like a loyal Peschieran; hence this hilarious grat.i.tude and brotherly welcome.

Rico's supper, consisting of boiled rice with chicken, was brought in and put on a corner table, and the landlady rescued him from his embarra.s.sment by explaining that the child must eat and rest. She led him to the table, remaining to serve him.

Rico was indeed hungry. It seemed as if a long time had elapsed since he had taken breakfast with his friend in the early morning, and he had tasted nothing since. He had scarcely finished eating when he found it almost impossible to keep awake. He had told them, in response to questions, that he had no home and that he was going nowhere.

"That is too bad," said the husband, kindly. "Don't worry about anything now, for you must go to bed and get a good sleep. Perhaps Mrs. Menotti, the lady that sent you here, will give you some work if you go to see her to-morrow morning. I have no doubt of her helping you, since you have no home." He did not notice that his wife was trying to keep him from saying this.

The guests called for another song, but Rico was sent to bed, the wife taking him up to an attic storeroom that contained a quant.i.ty of ear corn and had its walls decorated with harnesses. In one corner, however, stood a bed, and Rico was soon tucked away in it and asleep.

After the guests had departed, the woman said to her husband: "I don't want you to send the boy to Mrs. Menotti. I can make him useful myself. Didn't you notice how well he can play? They were all pleased with him, too. Mark my words that the boy will make a better player than any of the three that we now hire. He will learn the music easily, and we can soon get along by hiring only two men on dance days, for we shall have him for nothing, and we can hire him out besides. You would be more than foolish to let him go. I like his looks very much, and I say that we will keep him."

"Very well; I am quite willing," the husband said amiably. He could see how well she had reasoned.

CHAPTER XIV

NEW FRIENDS

The next morning the landlady was standing in the doorway of the inn, observing the signs of the weather and planning the work of the day, when suddenly Mrs. Menotti's servant appeared. This young man was manager as well as servant. He understood his work thoroughly, and the place prospered under his care. He had a habit of whistling wherever he went, and people thought it was because his life was such a happy, contented one that he could not help expressing his satisfaction.

"If the boy I brought you last evening is still here," he began, "Mrs.

Menotti requests that you will send him over to her. Silvio wishes to see him again."

The landlady stiffened, but tried to say pleasantly: "Yes, to be sure, if she is not in too much of a hurry. It so happens that the boy is still in bed, and I would rather let him have his sleep out. You can go back and tell Mrs. Menotti that I will send him over later, as he is not going any farther. I have taken him for good and all. He is a little neglected orphan, but I will see that he is provided for hereafter."

When Rico at last awoke, he felt as fresh as if he had not taken the long journey the day before. The landlady admired his neat appearance as he came down the stairway. She beckoned to him to come to the kitchen, where she served him his late breakfast.

"You may breakfast as well as this every morning, if you like, Rico,"

she said, as she seated herself opposite him at the little table. "We have a still better dinner and supper, for we cook for the guests then. You might pay me by helping with the work and playing for us when we want you to, but of course it remains for you to decide whether you will stay or not."

The landlady had spoken in Italian, but Rico had understood her, and he found words enough to say, "Yes, I will stay."

When Rico's breakfast was over, he was taken about the premises so that he might become familiar with the house, barn, chicken shed, and yard, and also the vegetable garden, for his help would be needed about them all. He was later sent to several places of business to get soap, oil, thread, and repaired shoes, and each time returned with his errand correctly done. It was therefore evident to the landlady that Rico knew the language well enough to be of great service to her. The afternoon was half over before she said to him, "You may take your violin over to Mrs. Menotti's and stay until night, if you would like to. She is expecting you."

Rico was delighted, for that would take him near the place he loved.

As soon as he reached the lake, he went to the bridge and sat down. He recognized this quiet, fragrant spot as all that was left to him of his home, for it was still a.s.sociated with the tender care of his mother as no other place could be. Its restfulness appealed to him, and the beauty of the scene was a feast after the years spent in the hills. He longed to remain for the rest of the afternoon, but he realized that his time belonged to those who had given him a home, and so he resumed his way to the sick boy.

The door was open at Mrs. Menotti's, and the little invalid heard Rico's step as soon as he entered the garden. Mrs. Menotti came down the path to meet him, and welcomed him so cordially and led him to the living room in such a motherly way that she won his affection immediately.

Rico noticed how pleasantly the room opened to the garden. Each night the boy's tiny bed was rolled into an adjoining room, where the mother slept. Early every morning it was taken back to the living room, where the morning sun and pleasant outlook gladdened the heart of the little sufferer. Beside the bed were the tiny crutches with which the mother at times a.s.sisted him to move about the room, for he was lame and had never been able to walk.

As soon as the little one heard Rico, he lifted himself to a sitting posture by means of a cord which hung suspended from the ceiling. He could not raise himself without help. Rico noticed the frail hands and arms, and the pinched look of the wan face. The little frame seemed too delicate to be that of a boy. The child had seen but few strangers, though he had often longed for company, and now his large blue eyes fastened eagerly upon Rico.

"What is your name?" he asked at the first opportunity.