every time a low number was drawn by some man who it was pretty clear would be rejected by the medical examiners, a murmur of disappointment might be heard among the crowd. And now and then the proclamation of some name with a number that manifestly condemned the drawer of it to serve, was received with significant interchange of glances among such of the doubtful ones as knew him, which might very easily be interpreted to express their shrewd doubts whether the individual in question would be of any avail to stand between them and the danger.
“He is no good!” one of these anxious watchers would whisper to another, while a glance and an expressive gesture, performed by some scarcely visible movement of finger, eyebrow, or shoulder, said clearly enough to the friend addressed that Victor Emmanuel would have to look very sharp if he meant his army to be increased by that drawing.
And many were even then at work with all their mental faculties deciding the momentous question whether they should “take to the hills” or not. For if such a step were to be adopted, it must be done in the interval between the drawing and the medical examination. After the final making up of the roll in accordance with the decisions then arrived at on each separate case, the men whose names are on it are no more lost sight of by the military authorities. Between the first drawing and the examination they return to their villages, though they are bound not to quit them. And it is in the course of those days, generally from about fourteen to twenty in number, that the desertions take place. Those who had drawn low numbers, had before this made up their minds what they would do in case of their drawing such. But with those who were in the category of the doubtful, it was a matter of anxious question, and mature consideration of the chances as affected by the nature and character of the men below them, whether they should stay and abide the chances of the examination or not.
Never was medical insight into the constitution and temperament of one’s neighbours so valuable.
At last it came to the turn of the Santa Lucia lads to march up to the table.
They came up the hall, some eight or ten in number, fine-looking follows all of them. The hill populations give but a small percentage of the medical rejections. They are the sort of men the military authorities want; and to get at whom they would willingly reject the townsmen wholesale, if they could find any excuse for doing so. All that little company from the Apennine village of Santa Lucia were fine men, but Beppo Vanni was conspicuous among them both by his superior stature and by the comeliness of his features.
“There’s a fellow for a sergeant-major!” said Captain Brilli to Corporal Tenda, who was in the hall with him, amid the crowd of lookers-on, as the little Santa Lucia squad marched up the floor. “I hope we shall nab him!”
“Why, that’s my old acquaintance, Signor Beppo Vanni. I little thought, when I told him that we should meet again, how soon there would be a chance of our making so much closer an acquaintance with him. But I am afraid there is not much prospect of making a soldier of him, captain. His father is a rich man, I am told.”
“Why, how do you know anything about it? And how upon earth came he to be an acquaintance of yours?”
“Don’t you remember, Signor Capitano, my telling you of the visit we had that Sunday, at the house of la Signora Dossi? That is the angry gentleman who was as jealous as a Turk because he found me in company with the superb Giulia. He is a cousin of hers, it seems; and from what I saw then, he would very much like to be nearer related to her; but I saw no signs of any similar intention on the part of la bella Giulia. She did not appear inclined to have anything to say to him.”
“Oh yes, I remember all about it now,” said the captain, scanning Beppo with his eye as he spoke. “And yet,” he added, “he is not the sort of fellow a pretty girl would turn away from. I should not much fancy having Signor Beppo Vanni for a rival myself, corporal!”
“Oh, as for that,” said the little corporal, drawing himself up, “it’s not always the big hulking fellows that the girls like best—not at all! And besides, Master Beppo did not go the right way to make any girl fancy him. He was as savage as a bear, and seemed more inclined to blow her up, the poor little darling! by way of making love, than anything else. Now Giulia is not the girl to stand that sort of thing. She is as good as gold. But she won’t stand preaching from her cousin Beppo, if I know her.”
“And she will stand a different sort of talk from a smart corporal of Bersaglieri, eh?”
“Not in the way of anything free and easy, you understand, captain. Lord bless you! She is a real good girl, I tell you. I should as soon think of saying anything that one does not say to an honest woman, to la Giulia, as I should to the colonel’s wife. She will laugh as much as you please; but all right and proper, mind you!”
“Well, yes; I suppose so. La Lisa says that she is a good girl. But I don’t feel so sure about her caring nothing for that strapping cousin of hers.”
“That, for her cousin!” said the little corporal, snapping his fingers. “We shall see, Signor Capitano, some of these fine days.”
“One of these fine days, I suppose, when the old uncle at Cuneo has hopped the twig, and the corporal has turned his sword into a ploughshare, eh?” said the captain, laughing.
“Well, don’t you think I might do worse, Signor Capitano? Did you ever see a better mistress for the little farm at Cuneo?”
“Have you proposed that enviable position to Giulia, la magnifica, yet, corporal?”
“No, not yet; but I have serious thoughts of doing so—freehold land, every foot of it! Why should I not? There’s plenty would jump at it.”
“No doubt. But you would have to jump at la Giulia. I swear she is a head taller than you are, corporal!”
“Not a bit of it! Parcel of nonsense! We are exactly of a height, she and I,” said the little man, holding up his head.
“Have you measured?”
