Among the Brigands Part 16

"O, how I thank you! O, how good you are! O, what a fool I am!"

And he could say no more.

Not a word more, on my honor.

It was now the turn of the others to be surprised.

The lady started back in wonder, and looked at David, and then at her husband. The ex-brigand started back also, and stared at David in utter bewilderment.

"What!" he roared, in a deep, thunderous ba.s.s voice. "Say that again."

"O, I'm an American--and I'm such a fool!" said David. "Why didn't I tell you so?"

"An American!" roared the ex-brigand. "An American!"

Upon this he burst into a perfect thunder-peal of laughter. The laughter came forth, peal after peal, in long and deafening explosions, till the house vibrated with the sound, and till at last the ex-brigand sank exhausted into the Glas...o...b..ry chair.

"An American!" he cried; "and think of me--ha, ha, ha!--asking you if you spoke every language in the world--ha, ha, ha!--but the right one--ha, ha, ha!--and speaking every language--ha, ha, ha!--but my own--ha, ha, ha! And to think of us two Americans--ha, ha, ha!--after trying Italian--ha, ha, ha I--and French, and Spanish, and German--ha, ha, ha!--rus.h.i.+ng into gestures!--ha, ha, ha!--gestures!--only think, Laura--ha, ha, ha! He and I--ha, ha, ha!--spending an hour in making signs to each other--ha, ha, ha!--but 'pon my life it's too bad in me to be howling out in this fas.h.i.+on, my poor lad, when you're in the midst of such deep affliction. I swear I'm sorry. I forget myself."

"But I'm not in any affliction at all," said David.

"What! What's that?" cried the ex-brigand. "Didn't you lose your father?"

"No."

"But your father, and mother, and the rest of them--"

"No," said David. "You didn't quite understand what I wanted to say." And he then proceeded to tell his story in plain English. He was listened to with deep attention; but as his story turned out to be so different from the first report of the ex-brigand, the lady stole an arch look at her husband, and her eyes fairly danced with fun and merriment. But the ex-brigand bore it admirably; and as David ended, and showed himself to be in no such deep affliction as had been supposed, he once more burst forth in a fresh peal of riotous laughter.

Upon this David ventured to hint at his own late fears, and on being questioned by the lady he confessed frankly what had been the interpretation that he put upon the signs of the ex-brigand.

"Well," said that worthy, "I'm not a brigand at all. I'm an artist."

"I'm sure I don't wonder, Walter," said the lady. "You dress yourself up in such an absurd fas.h.i.+on--and I've always told you that this room looks like a bandit's den."

"No, no, Laura; say an artist's studio. How could I get along without my furniture. As for my dress, it's quite in keeping with the place and the people. It's picturesque, and that's all an artist is bound to consider."

Further explanations followed, in the course of which it appeared that this ex-brigand was Mr. Walter Ludlow, an American artist, who, for the time being, was living here with his bride. They had been married three months. The island was Capri. They were enjoying love in a cottage, which cottage was furnished in an artistic, rather than a fas.h.i.+onable way. They lived here quite free from restraint, and the artist occupied the time partly with his art, and partly with general enjoyment. Neither of them felt at all inclined to leave Capri for some time to come, but thought it the pleasantest place in the world.

Ludlow happened that day to be cleaning his gun, with the intention of going on a shooting excursion. The noise which had been made in the wood by David had startled him, and he had gone to see what it was, with the idea that some cattle had strayed along the sh.o.r.e, and were coming into the fields and gardens.

When Ludlow explained his gestures to David, and the latter confessed what interpretation he had put on them, further laughter was elicited from the fun-loving artist, in which his wife joined, and David also. Ludlow, as soon as he was in a condition to speak, proceeded to explain what he really meant. His gestures were all intended by him to express the following ideas:--

1. I'm an American.

2. I don't live here--I only lodge.

3. I'm an artist.

4. I'm very sorry for you, and I'll take care of you.

5. I'm going out shooting soon.

6. Don't fret. I'll take care of you, and the boat too, as long as you like.

7. I live in that house up there, and you can stay there till you hear from your friends.

But Mrs. Ludlow now retreated, and before long she had a table set for their young guest, at which David took his seat, and ate with an appet.i.te that had been sharpened by his long fast. While at the table Ludlow questioned him more particularly about his friends, and where he had left them.

"Well, David, my lad," said the artist, at length, "I should like very much to have you stay with us for a time; and if you could, I feel confident that I could show you what would well repay you.

Are you aware that on this island is one of the wonders of the world--the famous grotto? I should like to take you there--but I see how it is. As you say, your uncle will be wild with anxiety about you, and will have no peace till he hears from you. So I suppose the best thing I can do for you, is to restore you to him first of all, and then arrange for a visit from you all on some future occasion."

David thanked him very earnestly, and dwelt strongly upon the anxiety of Uncle Moses under the circ.u.mstances.

"Well, my lad," said Ludlow, "I think you'd best go off at once, and I mean to go with you. Unfortunately there is a head wind, just now, so that we cannot go to Castellamare without taking too long a time. The best way will be to go over to Sorrento from this place, and take a carriage, or horses, to Castellamare."

This proposal pleased David, greatly, and as Ludlow was ready to start, he rose to go. Mrs. Ludlow bade him good by, and pressed him affectionately to come back with his friends.

In a short time they were in the boat and afloat. Ludlow was a good sailor, and the wind was favorable for a pa.s.sage to Sorrento.

The distance was traversed quickly and pleasantly; and then, leaving the boat, they walked up into the town towards the hotel, to see about getting a conveyance to Castellamare.

As they approached the hotel they became aware of a great and unusual crowd in front of it. The crowd reminded David very forcibly of that one which had been raging there a few days before, and excited some trepidation in his breast. Involuntarily he hung back.

"What's the matter?" asked Ludlow.

"The mob," said David; "do--do you think it's safe to venture among them?"

"Safe? Pooh! why not?"

"They appear to be excited. Hark! how they shout."

"O, nonsense! These Italians are always shouting."

But David still hesitated, and finally told Ludlow about the trouble with the ta.s.sel, and the old woman, and the mob, and their escape.

At this story Ludlow laughed heartily, and then proceeded to rea.s.sure David.

"Don't be alarmed," said he; "they won't remember you. If they did, I've got something that'll make them keep at a respectful distance;"

and he touched his breast significantly. "A six-shooter, David, my boy, is a very convenient thing to carry about one in this country, and it is surprising how the native mind respects it. So come along, and we--that is, I and my six-shooter'll--take care of you.

Don't be uneasy. They've got something else on their minds now."

With these words Ludlow walked on, and David followed, full of fear.

The crowd in front of the hotel was in a great state of rage and excitement. Some were banging at the door, others pounding against the window shutters, which had been closed by the terrified landlord; others were standing at a distance, and trying to find stones to throw. Fortunately there were no loose stones of any size, few being larger than a pebble, and therefore, as yet, no very great damage had been done. But the crowd was evidently capable of any amount of mischief. Every one was howling, and yelling; and in the midst of them was an old woman, whose shouts and shrill cries made her conspicuous in the scene. She was encouraging and stimulating a number of men who were carrying a beam to the house, which they evidently purposed to use as a battering-ram, so as to burst open the door.

The moment that David caught sight of this woman he shuddered, and falling behind Ludlow, caught at his hand, and tried to pull him back. Ludlow turned in surprise.

"It's the same woman," said David, in an agitated voice, "who chased me."

"Is it?" said Ludlow, with a smile. "O, well, you've got me with you now. So be a man.--cheer up, my boy. It's all right."

Saying this, Ludlow again walked forward, this time keeping his left hand on David's arm. David felt that it was not "all right,"

but he had to follow Ludlow, and so he followed him into the midst of the crowd. Working their way on through the people, they at last came near to the door, and found themselves close by the men who were carrying the beam. They had laid it on the ground, and were hesitating for a moment. Overhead Ludlow heard the voice of the landlord pleading with them in piteous tones.