She suddenly looked anxious. ‘Gustavo, is the jail strong?’
‘Ver’ strong, signorina.’
‘He can’t escape and get over into Austria? We are very near the frontier, you know.’
‘No, signorina, it is impossible.’ He shook his head hopelessly.
Constance laughed and slipped her hand through her father’s arm.
‘Come, Dad. The first thing in the morning we’ll go down to the jail and cheer him up. There’s not the slightest use in worrying any more to-night. It won’t hurt Tony to be kept in—er—cold storage for a few hours—I think on the whole it will do him good!’
She nodded dismissal to Gustavo, and drew her father, still muttering, toward the house.
CHAPTER XVII
Jerry Junior’s letter of regret arrived from Riva on the early mail. In the light of Constance’s effusively cordial invitation, the terse formality of his reply was little short of rude; but Constance read between the lines and was appeased. The writer, plainly, was angry, and anger was a much more becoming emotion than nonchalance. As she set out with her father toward the village jail, she was again buoyantly in command of the situation. She carried a bunch of oleanders, and the pink and white egg basket swung from her arm. Their way led past the gate of the Hotel du Lac, and Mr. Wilder, being under the impression that he was enjoying a very good joke all by himself, could not forgo the temptation of stopping to inquire if Mrs. Eustace and Nannie had heard any news of the prodigal. They found the two at breakfast in the courtyard, an open letter spread before them. Nannie received them with lamentations.