As they approached their own water steps it became apparent that someone—a man—was standing at the top in an attitude of expectancy. Constance’s heart gave a sudden bound and the next instant sank deep. A babble of frenzied greetings floated out to meet them; there was no mistaking Gustavo. Moreover, there was no mistaking the fact that he was excited; his excitement was contagious even before they had learned the reason. He stuttered in his impatience to share the news.
“Signore! Dio mio! A calamity has happened. Zat Tony, zat donk’-man! he has got hisself arrested. Zay say it is a lie, zat he is American citizen; he is an officer who is dessert from ze Italian army. Zay say he just pretend he cannot spik Italian—but it is not true. He know ten—leven words.”
They came hurrying up the steps and surrounded him, Mr. Wilder no less shocked than Gustavo himself.
“Arrested—as a deserter? It’s an outrage!” he thundered.
Constance laid her hand on Gustavo’s sleeve and whirled him about.
“What do you mean? I don’t understand. Where is Tony?”
Gustavo groaned.
“In jail, signorina. Four carabinieri are come to take him away. And he fight—Dio mio! he fight like ze devil. But zay put—” he indicated handcuffs—“and he go.”
Constance dropped down on the upper step and leaning her head against the balustrade, she laughed until she was weak.
Her father whirled upon her indignantly.