His mouth was dry. When he began to explain the
tablet, he had not realized what it would be like to tell the story to
this girl at this place. It was as if some other voice, talking above
his with his words, gave a meaning and an emphasis which must be
unmistakable to her. It was hard to go on, for with each sentence he
would surely stumble deeper into difficulty. Yet the silence was
electrical. Unsaid things seemed rustling in ambush. He dared not look
again at Mary, and he felt that she dared not look at him. But it was
necessary to go on, and he took up the narrative clumsily, fearing to
tangle the thread.
"The Italian asked the girl to marry him--here, where we stand. And they
were engaged. But in a few weeks or months something happened. My friend
is not sure whether she died, or whether some one came between them. He
is sure only that they parted. And afterward the man had this tablet put
up to mark the spot where he had lived his happiest hour."
"It is a sad story," Mary said.
"Yes. It is sad. But it is beautiful, too. He was faithful. 'Remember
eternal at my heart.'"
"Perhaps those were the very words he spoke to her here, when--they
loved each other and he was trying to talk in her language."
"I thought of that, too. It's almost certain he said these words, to
assure her that he could never forget this place."
"No one else can forget, who knows the story. It makes the tablet seem
haunted."
"Would you be afraid to see the ghosts of those lovers?" Vanno asked.
Pages:
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247