Читать книгу Maradick at Forty: A Transition - Hugh Walpole - Страница 8

“Oh! I’m coming,” said Tony. “We said we’d be back by twelve, and we’ve got five minutes. So we’ll say good night, sir.”

He held out his hand to the man in brown. The stranger took out a card-case and handed his card.

“In case you would care to see round the place—there’s a good deal that I could show you. I should be very pleased at any time if you are making a lengthy stay; I shall be here for some months now, and am entirely at your service.”

He looked at Maradick as he spoke and smiled, but it was obviously Tony for whom the invitation was meant. Maradick felt absurdly out of it.

“Oh, thank you,” said Tony, “I should be awfully glad. I think that we shall be here some time; I will certainly come if I may.”

They smiled at each other, the stranger bowed, and they were once more in the cooler air.

Under the light of the lamp Tony read the card:—

“Mr. Andreas Morelli,

19 Trevenna Street, Treliss.”

“Ah! a foreigner, as I thought,” said Tony. “What an awfully nice man. Did you ever see such a smile?”

“Rather a short acquaintance!” said Maradick. “We only spoke to him for a minute, and then he offered his card. One has to be a little careful.”

“Oh! you could tell he was all right,” said Tony; “look at his eyes. But what fun it’s all been. Aren’t you glad you came down?”

Maradick couldn’t honestly say that he was, but he answered in the affirmative. “Only, you know,” he said, laughing, “it’s an unusual evening for a man like myself. We run along on wheels and prefer sticking to the rails.”

They were climbing the hill. “Why, this is Trevenna Street!” cried Tony, catching sight of the name on one of the houses. “The man lives here.”

The street was quaint and picturesque, and on some of the walls there was ancient carving; heads leered at them from over the doors and window-ledges. Then it struck twelve from somewhere in the town, and immediately all the lights went out; the street was in darkness, for, at the moment, the clouds were over the moon.

“We’re in the provinces,” said Tony, laughing. “We ought to have link-boys.”

Suddenly above their heads there was a light. A window was flung up and some one was standing there with a candle. It was a girl; in the candle-light she stood out brilliantly against the black background. She leaned out of the window.

“Is that you, father?” she called.

Then some one spoke from inside the room. There was a petulant “Oh bother! Miss Minns!” and then the window closed.

Maradick had scarcely noticed the affair. He was hurrying up the hill, eager to reach the hotel.

But Tony stood where he was. “By Jove!” he cried. “Did you see her eyes? Wonderful! Why, you never in all your life——!”

“Candle-light is deceptive,” said Maradick.

“She was wonderful! Glorious! Just for a moment like that out of the darkness! But this is indeed a city of miracles!” He looked back; the house was in absolute darkness.

“She doesn’t like Miss Minns,” he added, “I expect Miss Minns is a beast; I, too, hate Miss Minns.”

At last, in the dark, mysterious hall they parted. “Oh! for bed!” said Maradick.

“But what a night!” cried Tony. “By heaven! what a night!”

And the Admonitus Locorum smiled, very knowingly, from the head of the stairs.