Kitabı oku: «The Four Corners Abroad», sayfa 14
CHAPTER XVII
GOOD-BYE MUNICH
For the rest of the time things went smoothly enough, the greatest excitement being the letter which was finally received from Hans Metzger. Frau Pfeffer gave Nan the news one day when she stopped to make inquiries of the switch-tender. The man had written to his sister before leaving the country, had told her of his illness in Dresden, but this letter Frau Pfeffer had never received. Now he wrote that he had a good place, better than he had ever dared think he could have, and would soon be able to send for his family.
"His family," exclaimed Mary Lee when Nan told her. "Is the whole outfit going? Frau Pfeffer and all those children?"
"I imagine so. Frau Pfeffer could not remember the name of the place where he is, but she says she will send the letter to us to read."
Bertha appeared the next day, her little thin face beaming. She looked very neat and clean, her cheeks fairly shining from soap and water, and her light hair drawn tightly back in two braids. The gracious ladies would please read the letter and she would wait to take it back again, for it was very precious.
Nan and Mary Lee sat down, their heads together. Nan was more proficient in deciphering German script than her sister and was the first to recognize a certain name which was prominent on the page. She gave a little scream of surprise. "Of all things! Mary Lee, do see."
"What?" Mary Lee did not quite take in what was meant.
"Why, look here, the man with whom Hans went over to America is Mr. Pinckney's superintendent, Mr. Wheeler. You know he came over to consult Mr. Pinckney on business matters and it is Mr. Pinckney's big place in New Jersey that Hans has gone to. Did you ever know anything so strange?"
"I truly never did. Are you sure, Nan, that it is the same?"
"Why of course it is. There is the name of the place at the head of the paper." She turned over the sheet and pointed out the heading. "I didn't think to look at it at first. Mr. St. Nick's place is named 'The Cedars' and there is the same post-office address. I know perfectly well, for we wrote to Miss Dolores when she was there one time. I should think you would remember that, Mary Lee."
"I do remember, of course, only I couldn't make out the name in that queer writing. It can't help being the same place. We must write to Mr. St. Nick and tell him all about it. He will be so interested, and I shouldn't wonder but he would ship the whole family right off; you know how he did about Christine and her grandfather. Let's tell Bertha."
They explained as well as they could, telling the little girl that her father was in a fine place and that they would all meet in America. As they had expected, Mr. Pinckney was greatly interested and there came a day not long after when Frau Pfeffer turned her last switch, discarded her green hat, picked up her feather bed and with her children set sail for America to the great satisfaction of the Corners, Jack and Jean being specially pleased that they had a hand in the matter.
A last walk in the Englischer Garten, a last look in the windows of the toy shops, a final farewell to the pigeons on the Odeonsplatz, one more promenade on the Parada and they said good-bye to Munich, to kind Fräulein Bauer, to the Hoyts, to the flock of schoolboys with whom they had had so many jolly times. Dr. Paul took the five damsels as far as Innsbruck and there delivered them into the hands of Miss Helen, who came thus far to meet them. Mrs. Corner had gone on to Verona, where they would make their next stop. The Hoyts, with a perfect phalanx of boys, stood on the platform to see them off, the boys sending a wild mountain cry after them to the scandal of the gatekeeper who frowned at the savage Americans.
Innsbruck was a fascinating enough place to call for a stop of twenty-four hours and Dr. Paul lingered with them during that time.
"I don't know how we are going to get along without you," declared Nan when he had put them all on the train for Verona and the time had come to part. "Aunt Helen, he has been such a comfort; just like a nice big brother, he is always looking out for us. We shall certainly miss you, Dr. Paul."
"Perhaps you don't think I shall miss you all," he said, "but I shall keep telling myself that it will not be so very long before we all shall meet again. Why couldn't we be fellow passengers across the sea? I shall be sailing from Genoa and you from Naples about the same time. Have you taken passage yet, Miss Helen?"
"Yes, we sail from Naples on the first of June by the North German Lloyd. Our steamer is the König Albert, I believe."
"I'll look up my own passage then and see if I can book for the same trip, and we'll call this simply auf wiedersehn." So they parted, he to return to Munich, which would seem sadly empty now, and they to go on to the delights of Italy.
At the hotel in Verona there was a glad meeting with their mutter, from whom they had been separated for all these weeks. There was so much to tell, that at first there was no desire to go out sightseeing, but the second day they began to wake up to the fact that the city held sights for them, and then they went forth to behold them.
"What is there to see here, Miss Helen?" Jo asked.
"A number of things. The Piazza delle Erbe, where used to be the old forum, is one of the most picturesque squares in Italy. You know that it was this city which received Dante after he was banished from Florence. You will see here many of the pictures of Pablo Caltari, the last really great master of the Venetian school; you all will know him better as Paul Veronese. And of course you know this was the home of Romeo and Juliet. A tomb is shown which is said to be Juliet's, though it is doubtful if it really is, and the house of her parents is pointed out."
"Were they real people? I never knew that," said Jo.
"The play is said to be founded on fact, and we are told that it was in the fourteenth century that the two lovers lived and died. It may not be absolutely true, but tradition says that there were actual happenings in Verona which resembled those of which Shakespeare wrote. I think we can spend a couple of days here very pleasantly, for it is a handsome city as well as an interesting one."
"And then for San Marco and the gondolas," cried Nan.
"Where shall we go in Venice, to a hotel or a pension?" Mary Lee asked.
"We are going to a pleasant place on the Riva degli Schiavoni where we shall have rooms and breakfast with whatever other meals we choose to have served. We shall sometimes be at too great a distance to get back promptly to meals, so we can always have our midday meal, at least, wherever we choose."
"I like that way of doing things," declared Jo. "One doesn't have to break one's neck in order to get back in time and there is a sort of excitement in the uncertainty of what you are going to get and the kind of place you will strike."
For two days they wandered about Verona, looking at the old painted houses, the palaces, the churches, and then the expectant hearts of at least three of the girls beat high as they neared Venice.
"I see a red sail," cried Mary Lee, looking from the car window.
"And there is a yellow one," announced Jean. "Oh, look, there are lots and lots of boats and more colored sails."
"Are we going in a gondola first thing?" asked Jack. "If the streets are all water we shall have to, shan't we?"
"Yes," her mother told her. "The gondolas are the cabs of Venice and will take us anywhere we want to go."
"I'm just crivering," said Jean as they stepped aboard the black craft which Mrs. Corner had selected.
"Sit down with your crivers," directed Nan. "Isn't it too delicious for anything? I foresee where all my spending money goes; hiring gondolas and just drifting up and down between these old palaces."
"But you must buy beads. You promised half a dozen girls to bring them some," Mary Lee reminded her.
"Don't talk to me of beads yet. Look at that red cloth hanging out from that balcony, Jo. Now I know we are in Venice. It looks exactly like the pictures. I am sure that church we are coming to is the Santa Maria della Salute."
"Where are the pigeons?" asked Jean.
"They are on the Piazza San Marco; we haven't come to that yet," Nan told her. "Do we turn off here? What is that place over there, Aunt Helen?"
"That is the little island and church of San Giorgio Maggiore, and next to it across that broad canal is the island of Giudecca. The canal has the same name; the church is called the Redentore."
The gondola turned out of the Grand Canal into the canal of San Marco and soon its passengers alighted in front of a house on the Riva degli Schiavoni where they were expected and where they found letters waiting for them.
"When can we go to the glass factory? When can we go to the bead shop? How soon are you going to take us to feed the pigeons? When shall we be ready for another ride in a gondola?" were the questions showered on Miss Helen by her nieces as soon as they had looked their rooms over and had decided where they would put their belongings.
"We can't do all those things at once, you badgering youngsters. Let me see what time it is. No bead shop and no glass factory, anyhow, to-day. If it isn't too late we will walk over to the Piazza and if the pigeons are there they shall be fed. As for the gondola, we'll see about that later."
The light had not left the sky when they stood on the Piazza San Marco. The rich mosaics of the beautiful church caught the rays of the setting sun, the pigeons were wheeling about overhead, and settling down in crowds upon the pavement.
"It beats anything I have ever seen yet," said Jo admiringly. "Just look at those great horses over the church door. Where did they come from? Tell us, Miss Helen."
Miss Helen turned over the leaves of her Baedeker. "They are five feet high and are among the finest of ancient bronzes. They probably once adorned the triumphal arch of Nero and after of Trajan. Constantine sent them to Constantinople. The Doge Dandolo brought them to Venice in 1204. In 1797 Napoleon carried them to Paris where later they adorned the triumphal arch in the Place du Carousel. In 1815 they were restored to Venice and set up where you now see them."
The older girls listened attentively while the younger ones were absorbed in watching the pigeons who had not yet gone to roost under the arches of the church.
"I am glad they were brought back here," said Nan, "and I hope they will never be taken away again. They give such an air to the church, a triumphal note, and are quite a different decoration from those you usually see on churches. Are we going inside, Aunt Helen?"
"I think we'd better wait till morning to do that. We shall probably want to come here many times. Just now we will enjoy the outside of the church and the Piazza, for it is the centre of interest here, and there is always something to see."
"I should think there was," said Jack, whose attention had been drawn from the pigeons to the clock tower where the two bronze giants were preparing to strike the hours. Jean with a pigeon on each shoulder and one pecking at the peas in her hand was perfectly happy, but at Jack's words turned her eyes toward the tower at which they were all looking.
"There do seem to be a lot of people here," said Jo when the last stroke of the giants' hammers had ceased. "But I thought the Rialto was the great meeting-place. Don't you know the common expression, 'I'll meet you on the Rialto'?" Then after a pause, "What is the Rialto, anyhow, Miss Helen?"
"What we mean by the Rialto now is the great bridge which for many years was the only connecting one between the east and west sections of the city. Formerly it meant the section of the city where ancient Venice was built, and Baedeker says it was this section and not the bridge which is referred to in 'The Merchant of Venice,' and the expression to which you just referred is from the play."
"Dear me," said Jo, "when you get at the core of things how much more interesting they are."
"Of course we shall go to the Rialto," said Nan. "How do you get there, Aunt Helen?"
"From where we are we can go under the clock tower and walk up the Merceria, which is the principal business street of Venice, and has a number of good shops on it."
"Is it a real street? Do we have to go from shop to shop in a gondola?" Jo asked.
"No, indeed, we walk along comfortably on dry ground."
"But I thought Venice was all water."
"There is a part of it which is quite like any other city, and where you will find no suggestion of water for quite a distance. This part is where the ancient city was founded, and is an island which was known as Rivoalto. You will read about it in a history of Venice."
"Then I suppose Rialto is a contraction of the name of the island, Rivoalto," remarked Nan.
"Exactly. Over by the bridge there is a market which you will like to see, for you will find many Venetian types there, and moreover can buy excellent fruit. There are some odd sorts of shops, too, that are interesting to look into."
"Well," said Jo after a pause, "I am flabbergasted. I had such a very different idea of the city. I thought it was all like the Grand Canal, and that what shops there were must be reached by skipping over bridges, unless one went in a gondola. I am quite curious to see that part you speak of."
"We shall go there more than once before we get through, and you will find that there will be some little bridges to cross even in that part of the city. You will want to go to Santa Maria Formosa to see the St. Barbara, which is one of Nan's favorites. She has always admired the photograph which I have of it and now she can see the original."
Nan beamed. "Oh, I am so glad I am here. I believe, now I think of it, that I have always wanted to see Venice more than any other place, and I am actually here."
"What is the matter with Jean?" said Mary Lee, for Jean had given a sudden cry of pleasure, had scattered her dried peas to right and left and had flown off in the direction of the clock tower.
All turned to look and were surprised to see Mary Lee, too, following Jean's example.
"If it isn't Mr. St. Nick and Miss Dolores," cried Nan, who being the tallest had first caught sight of the couple toward whom the other two were making their way.
All hurried forward to greet these good friends. "When did you come? and where are you staying, and why didn't you let us know?" The questions came thick and fast.
It turned out that the Pinckneys had been in Venice for two days, were stopping at a hotel near the Palace of the Doges. They had written to the Corners, but the letter had probably arrived in Munich after the girls had left.
"Well, well, this is more fun than a barrel of monkeys!" Mr. Pinckney's jolly laugh rang out. "Just stay long enough on the Piazza and you're sure to meet every one you know, I was just saying to Dolores. Now, what's on for this evening? It is going to be a glorious night. Why can't we all go out and take it easy in a gondola or so? It is plenty warm enough and will be no exertion, either, that's what pleases me. There'll be music; we can listen to it when we choose and when we don't choose we can talk. What do you all say?"
"Please, please, please," came a chorus of entreaty from the girls.
"I think it is a lovely plan," agreed Miss Helen. "What do you say, Mary?"
Mrs. Corner did not object. There would be nothing wearisome about it but quite the contrary. So they parted to meet later at the steps of the Ducal palace.
It was the softest of spring nights with a faint afterglow in the sky and a rising moon when they set out. Long beams of light trembled on the dark waters, light from the windows of palaces, from prows of gondolas, from the moonlit skies. The party divided since they were too many for one gondola. Mary Lee and Jean elected to go with Mrs. Corner and Miss Dolores; the others chose Miss Helen and Mr. Pinckney as companions. It was a new and exciting experience but to none more than to Nan and Jo. Mary Lee was absorbed in Miss Dolores; Jack in chatting to Mr. Pinckney.
"Isn't it wonderful?" Nan whispered to her aunt. "I feel as if I were living a hundred years ago, and that these old palaces were not melancholy places given over for pensions and tourists."
"They're not all that, Nan."
"No, of course not, but the old glory has passed. Yet, how beautiful it still is here."
"It is beautiful under any circumstances, and what a history the place has had. With how many different nations has Venice been connected, and what changes she has seen!"
"When was she at the height of her glory?"
"In the fifteenth century, and a great republic she was then, but her magnificence began to wane in the sixteenth century. She has since twice belonged to Austria, has belonged to Italy, has been a republic, and at last was again united to Italy."
"I don't like to think of her as anything but Italian."
"She has had many Oriental influences which are still very evident and make her different from other Italian cities. She used to be the centre where the traffic of both the East and West met and under her Doges held many Eastern possessions. We must get some books, Nan, and read up so you will become better acquainted with the past of the queen of the Adriatic."
"Indeed, I do want to do that. I should love to have seen that ceremony of wedding her to the sea."
"We live in too late an age for all the old romances and poetry except what still lingers through association and imagination. So quiet, Jo? It isn't like you not to have a word to say."
"I'm listening, Miss Helen, and am having such a good time that I am hugging myself for want of a better way to express my delight. I do love all this so much better than I expected to. I'm afraid I hadn't given much thought to the places over here till I actually came. They were names that I ticked off something like this: Paris – gay streets and shops; good place to get smart clothes. London – fogs, omnibuses, Dickens' stories; Munich – beer, picture-galleries. Venice – gondolas; all water."
Miss Helen laughed. "That is the way those places appear in the minds of a good many persons, I'm afraid. You are glad you came, Jo, aren't you? I remember Nan said you were not very enthusiastic at first."
"You bet I'm glad." Jo spoke with more force than elegance. "I could bat my head against the wall when I think of what a goose I was about coming. What an ignoramus I was not to study up more before I came. Nan enjoys things and gets so excited over them lots of times when I don't know what in the world she is driving at. Then by the time I have learned a little history and stuff it is time to leave, and there is not any chance for my enthusiasm to break out. I can't imagine how Daniella kept up with her party. You all are way ahead of me when it comes to literature and pictures and things, and what must she have been?"
"At least she got a taste of the sweets," said Miss Helen, "and I have not a doubt but that it will awaken her ambition as nothing else could do."
"She always had plenty of ambition," said Nan, "but she knew scarcely anything of what was outside a very small world."
"And the way she will work to keep up with her new self will be a caution," said Jo. "Dear me," she sighed, "there's the trouble; when you don't know and haven't seen you feel twice as complacent. You have a few rather nice ideas and some little knowledge, Jo Keyes, I patted myself on the head and said, but now, gracious! I feel as if I didn't know as much as one of the San Marco pigeons."
"So much the better," Miss Helen told her. "There is nothing so hopeless as self-complacency. You will forge ahead now, Jo, with twice the ardor you did before."
Just then a sudden hail from a passing gondola startled them all. Some one was standing up waving his hat violently. "Hallo, Nan Corner! Hallo, Jack!" came a voice as the gondola swung alongside.
Jack peered into the neighboring bark and cried out, "Carter! It's Carter, Nan. I know it is."
"Is that you, Carter Barnwell?" asked Nan leaning forward. "Of all things!"
"That's just who," was the reply; "and another friend of yours."
"Who?" Nan again leaned forward.
"Howdy, Miss Nan," came a second greeting.
"It's Harold Kirk, my cousin, you know," Carter said.
"Well, I declare! Aunt Helen, it is Carter and Mr. Kirk."
"I wish there were room in here for you boys," said Miss Helen.
"Can't we divide up?" asked Carter. "One of us will get in there with you and some of you can come in here with us."
"Rather a difficult proceeding," said Miss Helen laughing.
"I didn't mean that exactly," said Carter laughing, too. "Who all are in there?"
"Nan, Miss Jo Keys and Jack, besides Mr. Pinckney and myself," Miss Helen told him. Mr. Pinckney had given but a word of formal greeting.
"Suppose I get in," proposed Carter, with a look at his companion. "Who will change with me?"
"I'm willing to," Nan offered, "if Aunt Helen will come with me." So it was arranged. The gondolas were brought together and the exchange made.
The third gondola was lagging a considerable distance in the rear of the others, so that its occupants were not yet seen. As Mr. Pinckney and his party were about to start ahead, Mr. Pinckney peremptorily ordered the gondolier to take second place, so it was Mr. Kirk and his friends who led the way.
