CHAPTER X

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Naples, and a New Life

Pappina stood on the deck, holding fast to the railing for support. Her face was livid, her body shook. She looked anxiously toward the shore to see if she had been followed. There were no signs of Guiseppe!

She kept her eyes riveted on the boys splashing in the water until they appeared mere specks in the distance. Then, worn out with excitement, she sank down and burst into tears. Stifling her sobs, presently the child fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

The captain, passing that way, saw Pappina curled up on the deck. He could not see her winsome, beautiful face, for it was buried in her arms as she lay there sleeping. He saw just a child with a tattered, dirty dress and ragged little shoes. He gave her a kick.

"Get up," he said. "What are you doing here? This is no place for beggars; move on."

Pappina jumped up quickly. He had called her a beggar. She looked at him with flashing eyes.

"Beggar!" cried she. "No, signor, I'm not a beggar. You want money? I have it, I can pay." She began to unfasten one of her little worn shoes. The captain stood watching her, perplexed.

"What does it mean?" he asked himself. "She has such beauty and pride, and her clothes are so poor! She is alone and has money in her shoe. I am puzzled this time, for sure."

He tugged fiercely at his long black mustache, waiting to see what she would offer him from her store. She brought up coins and handed him a franc.

"Is that enough, signor?" she asked. "I have more."

Looking into the unfathomable depths of those great velvet eyes, the captain would have refused the wealth of Croesus had she offered it. Her beauty and her independence conquered him.

"Keep your money, child. As long as I run the boat you ride free."

"Grazie, buono signor [Thanks, good sir]. May I go inside? The boat rocks so. I feel—may I lie down just a little while, signor? I have my tambourine and I can sing and dance for you by–and–by when my head—when I am not so dizzy."

"Go inside, child, and lie down. I will look after you soon."

Pappina, catching hold of chairs and benches to steady herself, staggered inside and lay down, dizzy and faint. She was too sick even to think or to wonder where the boat was taking her.

The steamer was filled with people returning from Capri and the wonderful Blue Grotto. Among the tourists was Mrs. Elinor Thurston, a childless American widow traveling abroad with friends, seeking some new interest from day to day—anything to make her forget the loss of her husband and her only child. She noticed Pappina's pale, beautiful face and her glorious eyes. There was something about the child that reminded Mrs. Thurston of her boy. She watched Pappina intently as the little girl threw herself on the floor. The forlorn figure interested her, lying with her tambourine tightly clasped in her hands.

"Poor child!" she murmured softly.

"Such a picture!" exclaimed one of the tourists. "I must take a snap–shot of this typical little Italian beauty."

Pappina, hearing voices near her, opened her eyes. Her glance fell upon the sweet face of Mrs. Thurston, who sat looking kindly at her. The child smiled faintly, closed her eyes again, and was asleep.

That smile won Mrs. Thurston. She watched to see who was with the little girl, and seeing no one she inquired of the captain:

"Tell me, who is with that beautiful child?" Her face was diffused with tender, earnest solicitude as she gazed at the little figure lying at their feet.

"No one, apparently; she seems to be alone."

The captain then related to Mrs. Thurston how the little girl had taken money from her shoe and offered it to him for her fare.

Pappina began to talk in her sleep.

"He struck me," she murmured. "It hurt me so!" They tried to make out her words, so jumbled at first, then clearer and louder, till she fairly screamed: "Guiseppe, how dare you strike me? Marta, hold him. I hate him! I wish he were dead—I do, for I hate him!"

Mrs. Thurston stooped and took hold of the child's hot little hand.

"See how flushed her face is!" she whispered. "Her pulse is too quick; she is feverish, poor child," she said with pity as she gently picked her up and placed her on a sofa.

"She is my charge and I'll stay with her," she told the friends who urged her to go on deck and enjoy the beautiful scenery.

"Scenery!" she exclaimed as she took Pappina's hand in hers. "There is nothing so beautiful as this child. I am almost hoping no one will claim her when we land at Naples, for I need her. Her eyes are like my Harold's, so—" She could not finish the sentence for the tears that welled to her eyes and the sorrow that choked her.

At Naples no one came for Pappina, alone and sick, still tossing her head in pain and fever.

"I cannot leave her," her new friend declared. "She must be cared for. Oh, how glad I am that I can do everything for her!"

Pappina, still unconscious, was carried to a carriage and taken to the International Hospital.

"See that every attention is given her," Mrs. Thurston said. "Leave nothing undone. Here is my card, and I am responsible for her. I will be back in the morning."

It was hard for Mrs. Thurston to leave Pappina, but friends were waiting for her and there was an engagement to fulfill.

The nurse put Pappina to bed, dressed in a little white nightgown, the first she had ever worn.

Early the following day Mrs. Thurston called.

"How is she?" she inquired eagerly. "Still unconscious? Take me to her. All night I have thought and dreamed of her. Her eyes have haunted me even in my sleep. Take me to her."

She asked anxiously if any one had sought the child.

"No one? Oh, joy! Perhaps I may have her for my own."

Enrichetta, the nurse, showed the welts on the child's body—two red marks from Guiseppe's stick.

"Povera figlietta [Poor little girl]," she said. "It is now quite certain she will have a run of fever."

The excitement and strain of the past few weeks had proved too much for Pappina. In her delirium it was always of Guiseppe she spoke. She would beg, plead and defy him, start to sing, then cry: "The tambourine will make no music. It is broken. I cannot sing or dance now, Guiseppe, for my head hurts and the sun is so hot."

It was easy to gather from her delirious talk some idea of the hard life she had led.

No artist's dream could have appeared more beautiful than she, as she lay in her bed. Mrs. Thurston came every day, sometimes twice, to see her. In Pappina she had found a real interest in life; and her motherly heart warmed toward this lovely, abused child.

True love for Pappina sprang up in her heart in the days of the child's convalescence. In the long talks the two had together there was never a word of complaint against Guiseppe. The physician and nurse in charge with Mrs. Thurston questioned her and she willingly told them all, but never with complaints.

"I think I was as bad as I could be, because, you see, Guiseppe paid money for me, and sometimes when I was tired I did not want to sing and dance. Oh, please don't make me go back to him!"

"I will find Guiseppe," declared Mrs. Thurston. "I will pay him back with interest all he paid for you, and you may be my little girl if you will."

"Your little girl! I the little girl of such a lady!" The bright look on the child's face changed as she continued:

"You haven't seen my clothes. The red dress was splendid before I spoiled it and my shoes were new once."

"Never mind the clothes. New clothes go with your new life, dear."

All the time Pappina was recovering, Mrs. Thurston was having search made for Guiseppe. Two days before Pappina left the hospital, he was found on the Toledo with his Punchinellos. Those employed to find him were looking for a Punchinello showman with a brown–haired, pale–faced English wife. All about Naples they searched, but in vain.

Finding, one day, a man who exactly answered the description given of Guiseppe, the detective stopped, watched his show a while, then accosted him.

"I seek," he said, "for Guiseppe Capasso."

"I am he," replied Guiseppe.

"I have passed you many times," continued the detective. "I sought a man with a wife, an Englishwoman who passes the hat."

"Ohime [Ah, me]!" exclaimed Guiseppe. "I had a wife, but she is no more. A sudden illness took her from me. Poor Marta!" Guiseppe bowed his head in sorrow.

"I came to speak of the child."

"Pappina!" cried Guiseppe. "Where is she? Poor Marta, sposa mia [my wife]—she died with Pappina's name on her lips." Guiseppe sobbed in sincere grief.

For a time he seemed to forget everything but the loss of his patient, long–suffering wife. Gradually it was made known to him that there was money awaiting him if he would give up all claim to Pappina. Guiseppe never paid for Pappina what Mrs. Thurston paid Guiseppe. She wanted Pappina and money was no object to her.

They thought best not to speak to Pappina of her home, but let her forget about it as soon as possible. Pietro was proud to give his child to so grand a lady, who would educate and do for her as her very own. So it came about that Mrs. Elinor Thurston adopted Pappina Pierno.

Nothing could have been sweeter than Pappina when she was dressed for the first time after her illness. Those who were with her laughed and cried to see her fondle her clothes. Such wonderful underwear, so sheer and dainty, with ribbon and lace! Her delight was almost pathetic. If Mrs. Thurston was hungry for affection she certainly found all she desired in Pappina, with her impulsive, appreciative nature.

Mrs. Thurston seemed to live only in and for the child. Such shopping days as they had! Such a trunk full of clothes as they bought—dresses, hats, coats, gloves, handkerchiefs—and perfume too, if you please!

They were a month in Naples and Switzerland; then Mrs. Thurston decided she would go home, back to America to have Pappina learn English and begin her education.

"I'm really going to America to live, and not just to run away from Guiseppe? Sometimes, mamma," shyly she said to Mrs. Thurston, "I think I must be dreaming, but if I am, I never want to awaken."

"We will keep your tambourine for our souvenir, carissima, and when you think you are only dreaming, just strike your tambourine."

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TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE


—Plain print and punctuation errors were corrected.

—"X CHAPTER" is shown in the original, it has been changed to "CHAPTER X" for consistency.

—In the Table of Contents, at "CHAPTER III" the original reads "Fete Day at Naples"; it has been changed to "Feste Day at Naples" as in other places in the book.

—Many of the Italian words used in this book are incorrect; they have been left as in the original.

—The post-processor of this project created the book cover image using the front cover of the original book. The image is placed in the public domain.


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