52 CHAPTER V. THE STORY OF MADDALENA. "Un pezzo di cielo caduto in terra."-SANNAZARO, "Her life is "POOR Maddalena!" said Hugh. very solitary—her story very brief. An exile from her country, a fugitive from her family, she has for years taken refuge under my roof. It is her only home. Alone here with her books and her sad thoughts, she wears away the slow cycle of a companionless existence. She is no longer young; and she has no friend in all the wide world, but myself. You will pity her, my Barbara, as I do, when you have heard me to the end. "You know that I chanced to be abroad when my father died. It was my first visit to the Continent, and I was making what was then called the "grand tour." I loved him very dearly, and could not endure to return to the home where I should have missed him in every room; so I prolonged my travels indefinitely; and, instead of coming back to England, went farther and farther East, leading a wild nomadic life, and seeking to forget my sorrow in deeds of peril and adventure. Wearying at length of the tent and the saddle, I retraced my steps, after a year and a half of Oriental wanderings, and returned westward as far as Naples; where I bought a yacht, hired a villa at Capri, and lived like a hermit. Here Tippoo and a female servant constituted all my establishment; while, for the management of my little yacht, I needed only one sailor and a pilot. The pilot's name was Jacopo. He lived in the island, and was at my service when I needed him. The sailor slept on board; and there was a sheltered cove at the foot of my garden, where we used to cast anchor. "In this place I lived a delightful life. Every day I coasted about the enchanting shores and islands of the Neapolitan bay; sketching; fishing; reading Cicero, Suetonius and Virgil; landing wherever it pleased my fancy; and wandering among the ruins of Pæstum, Pompeii, and Baiæ. My books, at this time, were my only associates. I knew no one in the neighbourhood of Naples, and desired only to be alone. It was a strange life for a young man, not yet twenty-three years of age. "I have already mentioned to you my pilot Jacopo. He was a swarthy, handsome fellow, about three years older than myself, sullen, active, and taciturn as a Turk. All I knew of him was that he was unmarried, and lived somewhere on the other side of the island. Accident, however, brought me to a knowledge of his family. Coming home one afternoon, about two hours before sunset, and running the yacht into our little harbour, I saw a young contadina waiting in the shadow of the rocks. As Jacopo sprang on shore, she ran to meet him, clasped him by the arm with both hands, and spoke with great apparent earnestness. He, in reply, nodded, muttered some three or four brief syllables, and kissed her on the forehead. She then ran lightly up one of the many rugged paths that here intersect the face of the cliff, and disappeared. As we went up to the house, I laughed at Jacopo about his innamorata. She is no innamorata, signore,' said he. She is my sister.'-"Thy sister, Jacopo,' repeated I. 'Hast thou a sister, amico?" -'I have a sister, signore, and a brother, and a sister-in-law,' replied he; and Maddalena tells me that the sister-in-law has this day been delivered of her first-born. The babe will be baptised to-night, and if the signore wants me no more this evening... No, no, Jacopo,' said I. 'Go to the baptism, by all means. Thou wilt act as godfather?'-'Sì, signore, and as father, too; Paolo being away.'-'Who is Paolo ?'-'My brother, signore, who is at sea.'-' Friend Jacopo,' said I, 'do you think the sister-in-law would allow me to be among the guests?' Jacopo flushed up under his dark skin, and said she would think it a great honour. But,' added he, with a kind of proud shame, 'it is a poor place, signore.' To which I replied that I was a citizen of the world, and all places were alike to me; and so it was settled. We then started at once for his home, striking across the island by short cuts and sheep tracks known to my companion, who preceded me in his accustomed silence. By and by we came again in sight of the sea, and, following the course of the shore, reached an open space, or high level plateau, on the very verge of which stood a small antique stone dwelling, bowered in with trellised vines, and almost overhanging the sea. A raised terrace in front; a little garden at the back, full of orange and fig-trees; a rude dovecot clinging, like a parasite, to the walls of an outhouse; a few goats browsing on the herbage round about; and a flight of rough steps, hewn in the solid rock, and leading down to the beach, seventy feet below, made up the picture of this humble home. As we drew near, the music of a zampogna and tamburine became audible; and Maddalena came out to meet us. Learning that I was the padrone, she kissed my hand, bade me welcome, and made me known to the guests. They were the priest; some fishermen and their wives; and one Matteo, a wealthy peasant, who kept the only little albergo in Capri. They all rose at our approach. The zampogna and tamburine players laid aside their instruments; the priest put on his alb and chasuble; the innkeeper made his best bow; and we all went into the house, where, in a room opening on the garden, lay the young mother and her infant; their clean white coverlet strewn with sprigs of rosemary and fresh thyme, and a crucifix at the head of the bed. Jacopo and Maddalena then stood by as sponsors -the priest gabbled through the baptismal formula-the little Christian protested lustily against the mouthful of salt administered to him on the finger of the holy man; and so the ceremony ended. Maddalena then ran to prepare supper on the terrace, while we congratulated the mother, and made such little presents to the baby as each could afford. Thus the priest gave a tiny medal, blessed by the Pope; Jacopo a piece of linen; the innkeeper a string of coral beads; and I, in pledge of a gift to come, a broad gold coin, for which the mother and Jacopo kissed my hands. After this we went out |