The Matchmaker Read Online Free PDF Page B

pleading and aristocratic confidence in his eyes that Emilio unhesitatingly gave him a piece of the meat. An angry shout from the distance, however, sent him bounding off, and the watching Italians saw his treasure snatched from him and tossed into the bushes.
    It was now after two o’clock and the light was brightening and the shadows lengthening. Fabrio pulled a packet of food from his pocket and ate, sullenly ignoring Emilio’s offer of rabbit, and presently both were at work again, clearing and reshaping the ancient ditch overgrown with brambles and broken down by rabbits and foxes, and did not cease until it was time to stop for the day. Emilio straightened the last breadth of ditch-wall with a downward stroke of his spade; Fabrio was already cleaning his, with his heel and a piece of wood. The air was very cold and the primrose sunset looked down on them from behind the oaks; sharp scents of bracken and holly leaves, beaded with moisture that would later freeze, assailed their nostrils. They were hungry, and they longed with passion, as at this hour exiled Sussex men in Italy were longing, for home. The sea below San Angelo would be growing dark, the evening wind blowing the boats home, lights shining out from the windows of the Leone d ’ Oro . The keels make a soft crunch-ch-ch as they come up through the sand. A girl’s dress glows richly through the dusk as she loiters on the shore. Yellow light and the smell of frying food come out through an open window. The. stone-pine that is a landmark on the Capo stands out black against the violet sky, and inland rolls the wooded country, ancient and beautiful, with wheat and hill-perched villages. Mother of God, thought Fabrio, it is like that now , as I stand here in these cursed wet leaves and must take such care to clean my spade. It is like that now at home, at San Angelo, and I am here.
    “Ready?” asked Emilio, hunching himself into his coat. “Hullo, what do you want?” It was the hound-puppy, his tan and white coat looking very distinct in the soft, clear light preceding dusk, who came up to greet them.
    “He got his rabbit-leg after all,” said Fabrio, pinching the supple dewlap while the dog stood still to be caressed, looking from one to another with wise eyes. “Didn’t you see him just now?”
    “He can come back to the farm with us,” said Emilio as they began to climb the slope towards the woods.
    “Be careful; the old——will think we’re trying to steal his dog ,” said Fabrio roughly. “Better not get too friendly with him. There! go home, can’t you? We don’t want you,” and he motioned with his boot, but the puppy made a polite movement of avoidance and in a moment was back at his side. Fabrio’s sore, homesick heart was comforted by his friendliness.

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    “ HOW LONG WILL it take us to get to Pine Cottage?” asked Jenny, who inherited her mother’s forward-looking temperament.
    “I don’t know. Perhaps Mr. Bolliver does,” and Alda leant forward to attract the attention of Mr. Bolliver, whose car she had hired to transport herself, her daughters, and no less than fourteen pieces of luggage, to their new home.
    “About twenty minutes,” smiled Mr. Bolliver, slightly turning his head. The winding lane that led down into Pagets was now far behind them, and the car was travelling along the main road to Sillingham, with the chicken farm and orchards on the right, and on the left the meadows and woods rolling southward to Christ’s Hospital, whose tower soared forth from the purple forest ten miles away. The sky was lowering and throughout the morning everybody had been hoping that it would not rain.
    “Jenny! Your spear!” Louise sat upright and gazed distressfully at her sister. “Oh, we’ve left it behind !”
    “No, we haven’t. Mr. Bolliver kindly put it in the back with my big case,” soothed Alda.
    “And the eggs and my jar with the beetles in and my Alison Uttley books?”
    “All safely in, darling. Do not