Tales of the Wonder Club Volume II Part 21

"I give you my word of honour," cried Peppe.

"Ho! ho! what is that worth?" laughed his friend.

"May I die of an accident, if I don't! May the earth open and swallow me up! May the Madonna cause my mouth to fall off if I fail in my word.

May----"

"There; that is enough," interrupted his friend. "Here are the three pauls. Take them, and if you fail to pay me back in three days'

time--not one hour later, may all the curses that you have invoked upon yourself be fulfilled."

This was all I overheard of the dialogue. Shortly after this they must have separated, as I heard soon the voice of the goatherd in the distance, chanting in that wild strain, with a prolonged dwelling on the last note peculiar to the peasantry in the Italian mountains.

It was past midday when I rose from my mossy couch and sauntered leisurely home, where, having partaken of a light lunch, I continued working upon my picture--a large landscape--until sundown. I was at that time the only guest at the inn, and I have no doubt that mine host and his family made as much out of me as they could in one way or another, yet they were as honest as the people in those parts mostly are, and when not occupied with writing home I was in the habit of joining the family circle after supper, when they entertained me with the gossip of the village and stories of brigands, by whom the country was much infested, while I, in return for their information, related to them many things about my own country, my travels, etc. The conversation that I had overheard that morning, however, between the goatherd and his friend I deemed not of sufficient importance to relate to the family; in fact, I had forgotten all about it before I reached the inn.

The unscrupulous manner in which people cheated among these simple seeming peasantry rather amused than annoyed me. And as for the simple incident of one peasant borrowing three pauls from another, it was a fact so uninteresting to me, that I never gave the matter a second thought.

Little did I imagine that the transaction of the three pauls that I by chance overheard that morning was to be the commencement of one of the drollest waggeries that ever came within my experience.

It was more than a week after the incident that I have related occurred that I left my inn one morning to paint out of doors at the distance of a mile or so. As I journeyed along the road, laden with my painting materials, I came in sight of the goatherd's hut, built upon a hill, and though it was yet distant, I descried a figure in the act of leaving the hut, but which I could distinctly see was not the goatherd.

The figure had descended the hill, reached the road, and was then making towards me. I had now no difficulty in recognising my friend of whom I had bought the wine. He appeared to be anything but in good spirits, for he advanced scratching his head and with his eyes fixed on the ground.

This was our first meeting since our transaction of the barrel of wine, and had I been in a less good humour I might have taxed him with swindling me in good round terms, but with the fresh morning air in my face and the enchanting landscape around me, I felt in no humour to quarrel with anyone. I thought, however, I would make him aware that I knew how he had served me without losing my temper.

"_Buon giorno, Antonio_,"--(Good-day, Anthony)--I said, cheerfully.

"_Ah! Eccellenza; buon giorno_," replied he, with a sickly attempt at a smile.

"You seem a little out of spirits, eh?" said I. "Now, what would you say if I could read your thoughts?"

"You read my thoughts, Eccellenza! You joke with me."

"No," replied I; "without joking I will tell you what is pa.s.sing in your mind. You have just come from the house of Guiseppe the goatherd, and you are disappointed because he has not paid you the three pauls that he promised to pay you after three days. Am I right?"

"_Per Bacco!_" exclaimed Antonio. "Surely your Excellency is a saint, and it has been revealed to you. How else could you have known that?"

"Does that surprise you," said I. "What would you say if I could tell you more? If I could tell you the day and the hour that you lent the three pauls to your friend? What would you say if I told you it was last Tuesday week in the forenoon, and how you first hesitated to lend the money, having some doubt as to your friend's integrity, but how, after having invoked certain curses on his own head in default of his not being able to pay, you at length yielded, and lent him the three pauls?"

"_Diavolo!_ Eccellenza must be a saint indeed to know all that," cried the peasant, dumbfounded.

"Would you like to know more?" I asked. "At the expiration of the three days you have been regularly every morning to the house of the goatherd, expecting to receive the three pauls, and each time he has sent you away with a different excuse."

"_O anime sante mie del Purgatorio!_"[14] exclaimed the peasant, crossing himself devoutly. "Either your Excellency is a saint, or you have the demon within you."

"Ha! say you so?" said I. "I will even venture to prophecy that you will never get the three pauls."

"Oh, pray don't say that, Signor. Pray don't say that I shall _never_ be paid. Why should your Excellency think so?" asked the peasant, dismally.

"Why! do you ask? Because the saints love you not," said I.

"How, Signor? Was that also revealed to you? Why should they not love me? How have I merited their wrath?" he asked, whiningly.

"By charging me twice the sum you charge other people for that _quarteruolo_ of wine, and for repenting afterwards that you had not asked me four times the sum, as, being an Englishman, you thought to get it out of me."

"_Corpo di San Antonio di Padova!_"[15] cried the peasant, casting up his eyes. "Is nothing to be hid from you? Well, Eccellenza, what serves it to deny the truth, since you know everything? I am a poor man, and when an opportunity occurs for bettering myself, I am apt to do what most men do who know what want is."

"Well, my friend," said I "you will find through life that 'honesty is the best policy,' and that 'cheats never prosper,' at least, for long.

For when the cheat is discovered, his reputation is lost for ever, while the honest man who sticks steadily to his labour, and puts aside his scanty earnings, not wasting them in drinking or gambling, in the end is blessed by the saints who give him fortune."

"That is most true," replied the peasant. "Eccellenza has spoken like the preacher," and seizing my hand, he kissed it, and was about to proceed on his journey.

"Stay," said I. "Would you like to earn two pauls?"

"Willingly, Eccellenza; but how?" he asked.

"Help me to carry these traps to my camping place, and carry them back again when I return this evening," said I.

Without further parley he relieved me of my burden, and we both trudged on together.

At first we walked on in silence, but after the first half-mile, to relieve the monotony of the walk, I began to question my companion as to the reception his friend Guiseppe had given him and the excuses he had made for not being able to pay his debt.

"Well, Eccellenza," he began, "you, who know everything, are well aware that I called at Peppe's house at the time appointed for the payment of the debt, and that not being able to pay me, he excused himself by saying that the goats had given so little milk, that he could not fulfil his promise as he expected, but he promised faithfully to repay me on the morrow. I called the next day, when he begged me to be patient with him, as he had lost the money through a hole in his pocket. I was annoyed at this, but called again on the morrow, hoping at least to get a portion of the money back; but no such luck. This time he pleaded that his wife had been suddenly seized with the fever, and begged me not to be too hard upon him.

"'Then take care that she is better to-morrow,' said I, 'for I want my money.'

"The next day (that was yesterday) I called again, and his wife informed me that her husband had caught the fever, and was dangerously ill. She hoped, however, that it would soon pa.s.s over, and he would be able to pay me as he had promised. I went again this morning to Peppe's house as usual for the money, when his wife came out to me with tears in her eyes, to inform me that her husband died last night. I began to lose patience, and said that, dead or alive, I meant to have my three pauls back; and off I went, cursing and swearing. It was then that your Excellency met me."

As Antonio finished speaking we had already arrived at our camping place, and I commenced arranging my painting materials. The latter part of Antonio's narrative immensely amused me, as I had both seen and spoken to Peppe that morning early when he brought the milk as usual to the door of the inn, and he never looked in better health in his life.

I remember upbraiding him for putting water in the milk, and telling him not to try on his tricks with me, as Englishmen knew what good milk was, adding that if I caught him at it again, I should change my goatherd. I suppose something like a smile must have pa.s.sed over my countenance at the idea of Peppe pretending to be dead, in order to get off paying three pauls, for Antonio, eyeing me narrowly, said,

"What say you, Eccellenza? You know everything. Tell me if Peppe is really dead, or whether this is also a pretence."

I put on a wise look, and said, looking him full in the face, "I know him to be alive."

"Ha! say you so, Eccellenza?" cried Antonio, starting up from his seat on the ground. "Then _per Crispo_![16] I'll murder him when I catch him."

"There is no occasion to do that, my friend," said I. "You will not get your three pauls back the sooner if he hasn't the money."

"I'll go to his house again, though, if your Excellency can dispense with my services for the present," said Antonio, "in the hopes of catching him; though, if he is alive, he will be away in the mountains, feeding his goats; but no matter, I'll enter the house and see for myself if the bed is empty or no."

"Go then," said I, "and return in an hour to let me know the result of your visit."

Off started Antonio, as fleetly as the wind, and before I could have thought it possible, returned without appearing out of breath.

"Well?" said I, working steadily on my picture without looking up.

"Well, Eccellenza," he began, "I went straight to the house, and tried the door, but it was locked, and there was no one within. I peeped through the window, but could not catch a glimpse of the bed. I descended the hill in a rage, when at some little distance, I saw Peppe's wife. I ran to her and told her that I wanted to speak to her husband, as I had found out that he was living. She persisted in saying that it was false, and that her husband lay dead in his bed."

"'Then let me see the corpse,' said I.