Bella Luce?" asked the priest, with a look of observation at Beppo's face as he spoke.
"Oh, certainly not—by no means. Immediately afterwards, but not before," replied Beppo, with a sincerity in his manner that quite convinced the curato of his openness and frankness in the matter.
"Well," replied the latter, "I do not see that there is much objection to it; and I do not think your father will make any difficulty about it. I am not so sure that the girl herself will be well pleased to return to her old home."
"I am afraid we have but too good reason to be sure, your reverence, that she will not return willingly. But surely that ought not to prevent us from taking the step in her best interest!" returned Beppo.
"Oh, no! no reason at all, of course. Some few days of notice, I suppose, must be given to that actress-woman with whom she has been placed. And, on the other hand, some ittle preparation and forethought will be necessary respecting your" and the priest finished his sentence by the same expressive gesture which Carlo had used to signify being away to the mountains.
"Oh, your reverence, it's very little preparation I should need," said Beppo, speaking in a very dejected tone.
"Ay, ay! but—I told you, figliuolo mio, that the lads who go out to avoid serving this government will not want for friends; that we shall have our eyes on them; and that means will be taken to aid them in securing their safety. I shall take care—but I must have time to communicate with—in short, some little time is necessary. When is the day that is appointed for the medical examination?"
"The first week of next month, I was told, your reverence."
"Oh! we have good fifteen days, then. Very good. It is more time than enough."
"Will your reverence, then, speak to my father, and cause notice to be given to la Signora Dossi that la Giulia is to leave her? And Signor Sandro should be told also, I suppose?"
"Yes. I will come down to the farm this evening, and talk to your father after supper. I am sure I hope that a return to Bella Luce may be the means, under Heaven, of in some degree reclaiming the unhappy girl. And I most sincerely rejoice, my young friend, that your eyes have been opened on the subject; and that you are at last aware what a fatal step any engagement with such a person would have been. Good day. I will not fail to come down this evening."
So the two conspirators separated: the priest returning up the hill to the dinner which was waiting for him, to la Nunziata's great displeasure, at the Cura; and Beppo to return to his afternoon work in the fields as usual.
And in the evening the priest came down to the farm, as he said he would. And when, after a private conversation with the old farmer in the loggia, in which it was finally settled that Beppo was to be found missing some morning towards the end of the following week, Don Evandro remarked, that as he would be absent some time from Bella Luce, and as the girl seemed to be getting no good in the town, it might be as well, perhaps, if she were brought back to the farm, Signor Paolo made no objection. La padrona, when this part of the deliberations of her lord and master and his prime minister was communicated, was delighted at the prospect of having once again at her command those active and industrious fingers, the absence of which was making itself very sensibly felt in the diminished amount of the weekly produce of yarn.
The precise day for Beppo's secret departure, and the exact direction of his flight, were reserved for further and more detailed arrangement between him and the priest. Notice, however, was to be given to Signor Sandro, who was to be requested to communicate to la Signora Dossi that the farmer would come to Fanoto fetch Giulia home on the Sunday week.
"WEEP THOU NO MORE!"
Weep thou no more; a common lot is thine!
Fold thy meek hands upon thy heaving breast:
In alien sympathy can be no rest;
There is no lasting joy but trust divine.
O, heart that long'st for death, but may'st not die!
O, weary heart, all wasted with thy pain,
That striv'st against the stream, yet all in vain,
Weep thou no more, none hear thy weary cry!
The cold and distant stars are gazing still,
In the hushed midnight on thy falling tears;
Thus have they gazed, for many thousand years,
On all varieties of human ill;
And yet they shine as on Creation's dawn,
'Midst their eternal music. All things cease,
Sooner or later, lapped in perfect peace,
For nature knows no turning. All things born
Take sorrow for their heirloom with the light,
But wake and cry, and fall to sleep again;
So slumber thou,—in sleep forget thy pain;
White morn is breaking in the darkest night,
The billows fast return upon the shore,
The morn-dew on the myrtle to the sea;
Whence rose thy trust, there only rest can be;
Thither thou driftest fast,—weep thou no more!
