"I am so glad you came to-day, Mr. Batis...o...b..," said Leonora after he was seated, and looking at him rather curiously.
He was the man who had stood in the doorway at the ball when Marcantonio offered himself to her. She knew him as well as she knew most of the stray foreigners who from time to time frequented Roman society. He had been in Rome all that winter, and she had met him two years earlier, when she first went out. He interested her, however, by a certain reserve of manner and by an air of "having a story about him"--as young ladies put it--which was unusual.
"I am very fortunate," he answered, with a slight inclination and a polite smile. "I called entirely at random. Somebody said you were coming here, and so I came to see if you had arrived."
"Yes," said Leonora, "we have been here several days, with all sorts of troubles on our hands. It is such very hard work to settle down, you know."
"What has been the trouble?" inquired Mr. Batis...o...b.., glancing at the evidences of comfort that were scattered about.
"Oh--it is the cook," said Leonora with a little laugh; she was just beginning to feel the novelty of housekeeping, and she laughed at the mention of the cook, as though the idea amused her. "He has had a little fever, and my husband was dreadfully anxious about him. But he is quite recovered."
"I am very glad," said Mr. Batis...o...b... "It must be a terrible bore to have one"s cook ill. Did you get anything to eat in the meanwhile?"
And so forth, and so on, through a few dozen inanities. He would not make an original remark, being quite sure that Leonora would ultimately turn the conversation to some congenial subject.
"Shall you be in Rome next winter, Mr. Batis...o...b..?" she asked at length rather suddenly.
"It is rather doubtful," he answered slowly. "I am a great wanderer, you know, Marchesa. I can never say with any certainty where I shall be next."
He was looking at her and thinking what a splendid living thing she was, with the evening sun on her red hair. That was all he thought, but it gave him pleasure, and his glance lingered contentedly upon her, as upon a picture or a statue. He supposed from her remark that she wanted him to talk about himself, and he was willing to please her; but he was in no hurry, for he feared she would move and show herself in a less favourable light. She was so good to look at, that it was worth a visit to see her; and yet she was not a great beauty.
"I was thinking a little of going to the East," he added presently.
"But you have been there, have you not?"
"Not for a long time; and it will bear revisiting often,--very often. I mean to go there and study again as I did years ago. You have no idea how interesting those things are." Mr. Batis...o...b.. looked thoughtfully out towards the sea.
"What are those things, as you call them?" asked Leonora.
"What many people call the "wisdom of the East." They make us the compliment of implying that there is a "wisdom of the West" also, which seems unlikely."
"Dear me, what a sweeping remark!" exclaimed Leonora, rather startled.
"I will prove it," said Mr. Batis...o...b... "It seems to me that in the West no two wise men think alike; whereas in the East no two wise men think differently. Is not that a kind of proof?"
"Not a very valuable proof," said the marchesa. "But I do not know much about it."
"You have the reputation of knowing more about it than most people, Marchesa," answered Batis...o...b... "I have been told that you know everything." Leonora blushed very slightly.
"What nonsense!" said she; "I might say the same of you."
"I observe that you do not, however," said he, laughing.
"I never flatter any one," she answered calmly.
"Obviously, there is but one thing for me to say," said Batis...o...b.. still smiling.
"What is that?"
"That no one could possibly flatter you, Marchesa,--since the truth is no flattery."
"No, but imitation is," retorted Leonora, well pleased at having got a small advantage of him.
"Very good," said Batis...o...b..; "but do you know who said so?"
"Shakespeare"--began Leonora, but she stopped. "No--I cannot tell."
"A man called Colton said it. He wrote a book called "Lacon," containing innumerable reflections on things in general. He was a wandering sea-parson and wrote books of travels. He died of a complication of nautical and religious disorders--he confused the spirituous with the spiritual--but he was a wise man for all that."
"I suppose you remembered all that for the sake of showing that you really know everything," said Leonora, looking up from behind the fan that shaded her eyes.
The last rays of the sun shone horizontally across the terrace. The book she had been reading slipped from her lap. With a quick movement Batis...o...b.. caught it before it fell and laid it on the little table.
Leonora noticed the action and admired the ease of it. She was altogether disposed to admire the man, though she would have confessed that his conversation hitherto had not been at all remarkable. But there was something in his manner that attracted her. He was quick and gentle, and yet he looked so big and strong.
"Thanks," she said. "By the bye, are you going to spend the summer here, or are you only pa.s.sing?"
"I am only pa.s.sing--literally pa.s.sing, for I have come from the north, and am going southward. I believe I am doing rather an original thing."
"You are generally supposed to be always doing original things," said Leonora.
"At all events I am never bored," he answered, "which cannot be said of most people. At present I am going round Italy in an open boat. It is great fun. I started from Nice six weeks ago."
"How delightful! I should like it immensely!"
"Are you fond of sailing?"
"I enjoy it of all things," she answered. In spite of her remark to the same effect made to Marcantonio on the day of their arrival, she had not yet been on the water. He had been so anxious about the cook.
"There is a man-of-war to be launched at Castellamare the day after to-morrow," said Batis...o...b... "May I have the pleasure of taking you over in my boat?"
At this moment Marcantonio appeared at the extremity of the terrace and came towards them.
"Should you like to go?" asked Batis...o...b.. quickly, in a lower voice. "If so I will propose it at once." Leonora nodded, and her husband approached.
"Marcantonio," she said, "you know Monsieur Batis...o...b..?"
"Mais certainement," cried Marcantonio cordially, and the two men shook hands. Batis...o...b.. was at least as much at home in French as his host, and immediately attacked the subject.
"I came to propose to Madame la Marquise," he said, "that you should come over to Castellamare in my boat the day after to-morrow to see the launch. I trust the plan meets your approval?"
Marcantonio turned to his wife to inquire. She nodded to him; he nodded to her.
"We should be charmed," said he.
And so the matter was arranged; they agreed about the hour, and Leonora said she would bring the luncheon.
"Yes," said Marcantonio, "I am glad to say the cook"--
At this point Mr. Batis...o...b.. rose to go, and the remark about the cook"s health was lost in the stir. Batis...o...b.. bowed, smiled, bowed again, and moved smoothly away across the terrace, disappearing with a final inclination, and a sweep of his straw hat.