[CHAPTER VII]
MARY LOUISE INTRUDES
It was four years later when on a sunny afternoon in April a carriage broke down on the Amalfi Road, between Positano and Sorrento, in Italy. A wheel crumpled up and the driver stopped his horses and explained to his passengers in a jumble of mixed Italian and English that he could go no farther. The passengers, an old gentleman of distinguished appearance and a young girl as fresh and lovely as a breath of spring, clambered out of the rickety vehicle and after examining the wheel admitted that their driver spoke truly. On one side the road was a steep descent to the sea; opposite, the hillside was masked by a trellis thick with grapevines. The road curved around the mountain, so there was no other vista.
"Here's a nice fix, Gran'pa Jim!" exclaimed the girl, with an amused laugh. "Where are we and what's going to become of us?"
"That is somewhat of a complicated problem, Mary Louise, and I can't guess it offhand, without due reflection," replied "Gran'pa Jim," whom others called Colonel Hathaway. "I imagine, however, that we are about three miles from Positano and five or six from Sorrento, and it's a stiff walk, for old legs or young, in either direction. Besides, there's our luggage, which I am loth to abandon and disinclined to carry."
The driver interposed.
"Give-a me the moment, Signore—perhaps the hour—an' I return to Positano for more carriage-wheel—some other. My Cousin L'uigi, he leeve in Positano, an' L'uigi have a-many carriage-wheel in he's shed. I sure, Signore, I getta the wheel."
"That is a sensible idea," said the old gentleman. "Make haste, my man, and we will wait here."
The driver unhitched his horses from the vehicle and after strapping a blanket on one of them for a saddle mounted it and departed.
"I take-a the two horse," he explained, "for one to ride-a me, an' one for to ride-a the wheel."
They watched him amble away down the road and Mary Louise shook her head and remarked: