“No,——not her husband,” smiled Jekyl again; “a person you 'll like much when you see more of him. Short and abrupt, perhaps, at first, but so kind-hearted and so generous.”
“And has the villa got a name?” asked Frank, in a voice of some impatience at finding how little his companion repaid his frankness.
“It is called La Rocca,” said Jekyl. “Had you not been a stranger in Italy, you would scarcely have asked. It is the most celebrated on the whole lake.”
Frank thought he had heard the name before; but when, where, or how, he could not remember. Other cares were, besides, too pressing upon him to make him dwell on the subject, and he willingly addressed himself to the more urgent duties of the moment.
The boat-house stood in no need of all Jekyl's apologies. Frank had lodged in many inferior quarters since he had begun soldiering; there were several excellent bedrooms, and a delightful little salon which looked directly out upon the lake. Ravitzky, too, had rallied considerably, and his wounds, although formidable from the loss of blood, showed nothing likely to prove fatal. Jekyl pledged himself to send a surgeon at once to him; and, adding all kinds of civil speeches and offers of personal services, at last left the friends together to exchange confidences.
“What are our hosts like, Dalton?” said the cadet
“You would call them most patriotic, Ravitzky, for they would scarcely give us shelter. Their only regret seemed that our friends yonder had not done the work better, and finished off the rest of us.”
“It is not pleasant to accept of an ungracious hospitality; but I suppose that I, at least, shall not trouble them long. There 's something hot goes on ebbing here that tells of internal bleeding; and if so, a few hours ought to suffice.”
Frank did his best to rally his poor comrade; but the task is a difficult one with those whose fear of death is small.
“You'll have to write to Milan, Dalton,” said he, suddenly.