Vittoria | Page 9

maps and papers spread along the grass to question
Carlo ironically, while the latter appeared to be keeping rigid watch
over the safety of the position. Carlo puffed the smoke of a cigarette
rapidly, and Agostino replied for him:--
"From the quarter where the best donkeys are to be had."
It was supposed that Agostino had resumed the habit usually laid aside
by him for the discussion of serious matters, and had condescended to
father a coarse joke; but his eyes showed no spark of their well-known
twinkling solicitation for laughter, and Carlo spoke in answer gravely:--
"From Baveno it will be."
"From Baveno! They might as well think to surprise hawks from
Baveno. Keep watch, dear Ammiani; a good start in a race is a kick
from the Gods."
With that, Corte turned to the point of his finger on the map. He
conceived it possible that Carlo Ammiani, a Milanese, had reason to
anticipate the approach of people by whom he, or they, might not wish
to be seen. Had he studied Carlo's face he would have been reassured.

The brows of the youth were open, and his eyes eager with expectation,
that showed the flying forward of the mind, and nothing of knotted
distrust or wary watchfulness. Now and then he would move to the
other side of the mountain, and look over upon Orta; or with the
opera-glass clasped in one hand beneath an arm, he stopped in his
sentinel-march, frowning reflectively at a word put to him, as if
debating within upon all the bearings of it; but the only answer that
came was a sharp assent, given after the manner of one who dealt
conscientiously in definite affirmatives; and again the glass was in
requisition. Marco Sana was a fighting soldier, who stated what he
knew, listened, and took his orders. Giulio Bandinelli was also little
better than the lieutenant in an enterprise. Corte, on the other hand, had
the conspirator's head,--a head like a walnut, bulging above the
ears,--and the man was of a sallying temper. He lay there putting bit by
bit of his plot before the Chief for his approval, with a careful
construction, that upon the expression of any doubt of its working
smoothly in the streets of Milan, caused him to shout a defensive, "But
Carlo says yes!"
This uniform character of Ammiani's replies, and the smile of Agostino
on hearing them, had begun to strike the attention of the soldierly
Marco Sana. He ran his hand across his shorn head, and puffed his
burnt red mole-spotted cheeks, with a sidelong stare at the abstracted
youth, "Said yes!" he remarked. "He might say no, for a diversion. He
has yeses enough in his pay to earn a Cardinal's hat. 'Is Milan preparing
to rise?' 'Yes.'--'Is she ready for the work?' 'Yes.'--'Is the garrison on its
guard?' 'Yes.'--'Have you seen Barto Rizzo?' 'Yes.'--'Have the people
got the last batch of arms?' 'Yes.'--And 'Yes,' the secret is well kept;
'Yes,' Barto Rizzo is steadily getting them together. We may rely on
him: Carlo is his intimate friend: Yes, Yes:--There's a regiment of them
at your service, and you may shuffle them as you will. This is the help
we get from Milan: a specimen of what we may expect!"
Sana had puffed himself hot, and now blew for coolness.
"You are,"--Agostino addressed him,--"philosophically totally wrong,
my Marco. Those affirmatives are fat worms for the catching of fish.

They are the real pretty fruit of the Hesperides. Personally, you or I
may be irritated by them: but I'm not sure they don't please us. Were
Carlo a woman, of course he should learn to say no;--as he will now if I
ask him, Is she in sight? I won't do it, you know; but as a man and a
diplomatist, it strikes me that he can't say yes too often."
"Answer me, Count Ammiani, and do me the favour to attend to these
trifles for the space of two minutes," said Corte. "Have you seen Barto
Rizzo? Is he acting for Medole?"
"As mole, as reindeer, and as bloody northern Raven!" ejaculated
Agostino: "perhaps to be jackal, by-and-by. But I do not care to abuse
our Barto Rizzo, who is a prodigy of nature, and has, luckily for
himself, embraced a good cause, for he is certain to be hanged if he is
not shot. He has the prophetic owl's face. I have always a fancy of his
hooting his own death-scrip. I wrong our Barto:--Medole would be the
jackal, if it lay between the two."
Carlo Ammiani had corrected Corte's manner to him by a complacent
readiness to give him distinct replies. He then turned and set off at full
speed down the mountain.
"She is sighted at last," Agostino murmured, and added