tirement would have seemed to him like killing the goose that laid the golden eggs.
The wedding took place in the spring, so as to allow the newly-married couple six weeks or so to themselves between the close of the Paris opera season and the commencement of the London one; and Annunziata, who had of late been possessed by an intense longing to revisit her native place, had little difficulty in persuading her husband to take her, for those few weeks, to Italy. M. de Chagny, always ready to be agreeable to others so long as no inconvenience to himself was entailed thereby, declared that no country could be more charming to him than that to which his wife belonged by birth; and thus it was that, in the month of April, Annunziata found herself once more in Sorrento.
Her first visit was, of course, paid to her aunt Marta, and almost her first inquiry was about Luigi Ratta. Old Marta shook her head and sighed. "Luigi is gone!" she said.
"Gone! What—away from Sorrento?"
"Yes, carina, he has gone away from Sorrento. I fear he has not turned out well, that poor Luigi. But che vuoi? It is not everybody that can make a fortune, as you have done. Let us talk of something else."
"I can talk of nothing till you tell me what has become of Luigi. Did he go to the coral-fishery?"
"Yes, yes—to the coral-fishery, no doubt. To be sure that was it! He had lost money, poverino, and so he went away for a little to try and make some elsewhere. He will be back in good time—never fear."
Marta made this statement seeing tears in her niece's eyes, and not wishing to tell her the truth, lest she should distress her. Annunziata knew that the old woman was lying, but knew also that she would now continue to lie, after the calm and innocent fashion of her nation, and that no amount of questioning would serve to elicit the truth. She did not, therefore, make any further attempt on la zia; but she cross-questioned Bottiglia, and many others—without, however, getting much information out of them. There was a mystery about Luigi, which every one was determined to keep from her; and that was all she could discover.
Annunziata and her husband remained ten days at Sorrento, and then left for Amalfi, which place M. de Chagny was anxious to see. On account of the heat of the weather, it was agreed that the drive should be taken by night. The moon was at the full, so that, as Annunziata said, they would be able to distinguish the scenery as well as in broad daylight. But she had forgotten to notice at what hour the moon set—the consequence of which was that, before half the distance had been accomplished, the travellers were enveloped in murky darkness.
"Your country may be very charming, ma toute belle" said the count, "but, for anything we can distinguish of it, we might as well be in the tunnel at Posilippo."
"I am so sorry," said Annunziata laughing, "but presently we shall be on the other side of the mountains, and then we shall have the stars and the sea to look at."
"But I have seen the stars and the sea so many times before!" said the count plaintively. "I think, if you will permit me, I will go to sleep!"
Annunziata readily gave the desired permission, and resting her elbow on the carriage door, and her chin on her hand, gazed out into the soft, warm, southern night. The mountains rose high on either side of the road; the stars were twinkling far overhead; the olives and the stone-pines were whispering to each other, just as they used to do in the old days so long ago, when she and Luigi ran wild over the hills together. Poor Luigi! what had become of him, and why had things gone wrong with him? Ah, she feared she could answer that last question only too easily. She sighed. "Why does he love like that?" she muttered to herself. "It is very foolish; other men never do so. As for my poor dear De Chagny, I suppose he does not even know what love means."
She turned round, with a half smile, to look at poor dear De Chagny, who was stretched, sound asleep, at her side—and that was the last thing she remembered doing till she found herself lying down in the carriage, her maid rubbing her hands and her husband looking anxiously into her face. She jumped up immediately into a sitting posture, and rubbed her eyes. They were driving at a rapid pace down the road leading to Amalfi.
"What is the matter?" she asked. "I am quite well. Did I faint?"
"No," replied her husband, who looked a little pale and disturbed, "not exactly; but we have had an adventure. Perhaps I had better not tell you till we get in."
