Produced by Al Haines
By HENRY HARLAND
Author of
LONDON & NEW YORK — MCMII
Copyright, 1902
All rights reserved
To
The Lady Paramount
On the twenty-second anniversary of Susanna's birth, old CommendatoreFregi, her guardian, whose charge, by the provisions of her father'swill, on that day terminated, gave a festa in her honour at his villain Vallanza. Cannon had been fired in the morning: two-and-twentysalvoes, if you please, though Susanna had protested that this wasfalse heraldry, and that it advertised her, into the bargain, for anold maid. In the afternoon there had been a regatta. Seven tinysailing-boats, monotypes,—the entire fleet, indeed, of the Reale YachtClub d'Ilaria—had described a triangle in the bay, with Vallanza,Presa, and Veno as its points; and I need n't tell anyone who knows theisland of Sampaolo that the Marchese Baldo del Ponte's Mermaid,English name and all, had come home easily the first. Then, in theevening, there was a dinner, followed by a ball, and fire-works in thegarden.
Susanna was already staying at the summer palace on Isola Nobile, foralready—though her birthday falls on the seventeenth of April—thewarm weather had set in; and when the last guests had gone their way,the Commendatore escorted her and her duenna, the Baroness Casaterrena,down through the purple Italian night, musical with the rivalries of ahundred nightingales, to the sea-wall, where, at his privatelanding-stage, in the bat-haunted glare of two tall electric lamps, herlaunch was waiting. But as he offered Susanna his hand, to help heraboard, she stepped quickly to one side, and said, with a charmingindicative inclination of the head, "The Baronessa."
The precedence, of course, was rightfully her own. How like her, andhow handsome of her, thought the fond old man, thus to waive it infavour of her senior. So he transferred his attention to the Baroness.She was a heavy body, slow and circumspect in her motions; but atlength she had safely found her place among the silk cushions in thestern, and the Commendatore, turning back, again held out his hand tohis sometime ward. As he was in the act of doing so, however, his earswere startled by a sound of puffing and of churning which caused himabruptly to face about.
"Hi! Stop!" he cried excitedly, for the launch was several yards outin the bay; and one could hear the Baroness, equally excited,expostulating with the man at the machine:
"He! Ferma, ferma!"
"It's all right," said Susanna, in that rather deep voice of hers,tranquil and leisurely; "my orders."
And the launch, unperturbed, held its course towards the glow-wormlights of Isola Nobile.
The Commendatore stared. . . .
For a matter of five seconds, his brows knitted together, his mouthhalf open, the Commendatore stared, now at Susanna, now after thebobbing lanterns of the launch,—whilst, clear in the suspension, thechoir of nightingales sobbed and shouted.
"Your orders?" he faltered at last. Many emotions were concentratedin the pronoun.
"Yes," said Susanna, with a na