“Good. I will take good care of him.”
“I will go inside and see the Barone. I’ll see you later.”
“You must get warm,” the head keeper said. “It’s been a bitter day, my Colonel.”
The Colonel started to walk toward the door of the house.
“I’ll see you later,” he said to the boatman.
“Yes, my Colonel,” the boatman said.
Alvarito, the Barone, was standing by the open fire in the middle of the room. He smiled his shy smile and said in his low pitched voice, “I am sorry you did not have better shooting.”
“We froze up completely. I enjoyed what there was very much.”
“Are you very cold?”
“Not too cold.”
“We can have something to eat.”
“Thank you. I’m not hungry. Have you eaten?”
“Yes. The others went on and I let them take my car. Can you give me a lift to Latisana or just above? I can get transportation from there.”
“Of course.”
“It was a shame that it should freeze. The prospects were so good.”
“There must have been a world of ducks outside.”
“Yes. But now they won’t stay with their feed frozen over. They will be on their way south tonight.”
“Will they all go?”
“All except our local ducks that breed here. They’ll stay as long as there is any open water.”
“I’m sorry for the shoot.”
“I’m sorry you came so far for so few ducks.”
“I always love the shoot,” the Colonel said. “And I love Venice.”
The Barone Alvarito looked away and spread his hands toward the fire. “Yes,” he said. “We all love Venice. Perhaps you do the best of all.”
The Colonel made no small talk on this but said, “I love Venice as you know.”
“Yes. I know,” the Barone said. He looked at nothing. Then he said, “We must wake your driver.”
“Has he eaten?”
“Eaten and slept and eaten and slept. He has also read a little in some illustrated books he brought with him.”
“Comic books,” the Colonel said.
“I should learn to read them,” the Barone said. He smiled the shy, dark smile. “Could you get me some from Trieste?”
“Any amount,” the Colonel told him. “From superman on up into the improbable. Read some for me. Look, Alvarito, what was the matter with that game-keeper who poled my boat? He seemed to have a hatred for me at the start. Pretty well through, too.”
“It was the old battle-jacket. Allied uniform affects him that way. You see he was a bit over-liberated.”
“Go on.”
“When the Moroccans came through here they raped both his wife and his daughter.”
“I think I’d better have a drink,” the Colonel said.
“There is grappa there on the table.”
CHAPTER XLIV
THEY had dropped the Barone off at a villa with great gates, a gravelled drive and a house, which, since it was over six miles from any military objective, had the good fortune not to have been bombed.
The Colonel had said good-bye and Alvarito had told him to come down and shoot any, or every, week-end.
“You’re sure you won’t come in?”
“No. I must get back to Trieste. Will you give my love to Renata?”
“I will. Is that her portrait that you have wrapped in the back of the car?”
“It is.”
“I’ll tell her that you shot very well and that the portrait was in good condition.”
“Also my love.”
“Also your love.”
“Ciao, Alvarito, and thank you very much.”
“Ciao, my Colonel. If one can say ciaou to a Colonel.”
“Consider me not a Colonel.”
“It is very difficult. Good-bye, my Colonel.”
“In case of any unforeseen contingencies would you ask her to have the portrait picked up at the Gritti?”
“Yes, my Colonel.”
“That’s all, I guess.”
“Good-bye, my Colonel.”
CHAPTER XLV
THEY were out on the road now and the early darkness was beginning.
“Turn left,” the Colonel said.
“That’s not the road for Trieste, sir,” Jackson said.
“The hell with the road to Trieste. I ordered you to turn left. Do you think there is only one way in the world to get to Trieste?”
“No, sir. I was only pointing out to the Colonel—”