A Soldier under Garibaldi [pp. 179-190]

A Soldier Under Garibaldi.
you what done die an' getta bury lika
my bambinos."
The clasp yielded at last to his touch,
and he held out something to Miss
Agatha. It was the pearl ring.
"My ring! 0 Guiseppe!"
A deep flush spread over the little
lady's face, but somehow another hand
received the ring, and into Guiseppe's
hand were pressed some large gold coins
that set the simple fellow's heart aglow.
More by far than he could have hoped
to realize from the sale of the jewel!
More than enough to pay the great doctor's fee; enough, it was possible, to
move the little family, bag and baggage,
to a place in the country far from the
noisome vapors.
"It was very good of you, Guiseppe,
- very honest, to remember and give
the ring back to me," stammered Miss
Agatha.
The doubts and conflict of two weeks
were things of the past, and Guiseppe's
self-respect was restored. He touched
his tattered hat, and drew himself erect
with the old military gesture.
"Madam, a man what has been soljah under Garybaldy neva fo'get the
word honah."
"Bravely said, Guiseppe," said Weston, speaking for the first time; but he
laid his hand on Miss Agatha's arm, to
draw her away from the ill-smelling place.
The two visitors walked slowly away
from the forlorn little home. Miss
Agatha's face was downcast, and her
eyes sought the ground. In her cry of
joy at the recovery of her lost treasure,
she felt that she had been guilty of the
most shameless self-betrayal. She could
never, never look Weston in the face
again. She wished that he would leave
her now. She should be glad to hear
that he was to go away from the city
tomorrow, placing miles and miles of
distance between them. If only she
could hide her burning cheeks and
shamed eyes in the darkness and solitude of her own little room!
Weston was thoughtful and silent.
The hand that he had placed upon Miss
Agatha's arm was now lending it a gentle support, almost like a caress. The
other hand was fingering the ring in his
vest pocket. All the man in him, and
what was left of the gallant, chivalrous
boy of twenty years gone by, had been
stirred by the evidence of simple, unwavering faith that had been so unexpectedly presented to him. Why should
he stop to consider how far his limited
income, never quite sufficient for his
own tastes, would go in the support of
three, when this little woman's narrow
stipend had made two people comfortable and enabled her to do gracious little
acts of charity besides? It was time his
lazy, luxurious life came to an end. Already he had dreamed and idled away
the best years of his life, while she
she -
"And you kept it -kept it and wore
it all these years!"
Miss Agatha made no reply, while her
head drooped even lower. Why should
he make capital of her humiliation? It
was a sorry jest for her. If she could
but sink into the earth! or if only some
spark of her old girlish spirit could revive, to rebuke him as he deserved!
And why was he leading her away from
the squalid dwellings, off from the
settled portion of the wretched little
hollow, to where the earth was carpeted
with the glad green verdancy of January, and golden wild pansies, like fallen
stars, were trampled beneath their feet?
Yet the habit of submission was so
strong upon her that she followed unquestioningly where he led.
Together they climbed a little sunbathed knoll, and he drew her down
beside him. Then he took her delicate,
thin hand in his, and he held the pearl
ring over the finger that still bore its
mark upon it.
"Agatha," he said gently, "may I put
it on again,- to mean more than ever
it did before?"
1889.]
189