A Farewell to Arms - Ernest Hemingway [91]
"Would you?"
"No," I said. "I'd like to go back to bed."
"What is it about?"
"The barman says they are going to arrest me in the morning."
"Is the barman crazy?"
"No."
"Then please hurry, darling, and get dressed so we can start." She sat up on the side of the bed. She was still sleepy. "Is that the barman in the bathroom?"
"Yes."
"Then I won't wash. Please look the other way, darling, and I'll be dressed in just a minute."
I saw her white back as she took off her night-gown and then I looked away because she wanted me to. She was beginning to be a little big with the child and she did not want me to see her. I dressed hearing the rain on the windows. I did not have much to put in my bag.
"There's plenty of room in my bag, Cat, if you need any."
"I'm almost packed," she said. "Darling, I'm awfully stupid, but why is the barman in the bathroom?"
"Sh—he's waiting to take our bags down."
"He's awfully nice."
"He's an old friend," I said. "I nearly sent him some pipetobacco once."
I looked out the open window at the dark night. I could not see the lake, only the dark and the rain but the wind was quieter.
"I'm ready, darling," Catherine said.
"All right." I went to the bathroom door. "Here are the bags, Emilio," I said. The barman took the two bags.
"You're very good to help us," Catherine said.
"That's nothing, lady," the barman said. "I'm glad to help you just so I don't get in trouble myself. Listen," he said to me. "I'll take these out the servants' stairs and to the boat. You just go out as though you were going for a walk."
"It's a lovely night for a walk," Catherine said.
"It's a bad night all right."
"I'm glad I've an umbrella," Catherine said.
We walked down the hall and down the wide thickly carpeted stairs. At the foot of the stairs by the door the porter sat behind his desk.
He looked surprised at seeing us.
"You're not going out, sir?" he said.
"Yes," I said. "We're going to see the storm along the lake."
"Haven't you got an umbrella, sir?"
"No," I said. "This coat sheds water."
He looked at it doubtfully. "I'll get you an umbrella, sir," he said. He went away and came back with a big umbrella. "It is a little big, sir," he said. I gave him a ten-lira note. "Oh you are too good, sir. Thank you very much," he said. He held the door open and we went out into the rain. He smiled at Catherine and she smiled at him. "Don't stay out in the storm," he said. "You will get wet, sir and lady." He was only the second porter, and his English was still literally translated.
"We'll be back," I said. We walked down the path under the giant umbrella and out through the dark wet gardens to the road and across the road to the trellised pathway along the lake. The wind was blowing offshore now. It was a cold, wet November wind and I knew it was snowing in the mountains. We came along past the chained boats in the slips along the quay to where the barman's boat should be. The water was dark against the stone. The barman stepped out from beside the row of trees.
"The bags are in the boat," he said.
"I want to pay you for the boat," I said.
"How much money have you?"
"Not so much."
"You send me the money later. That will be all right."
"How much?"
"What you want."
"Tell me how much."
"If you get through send me five hundred francs. You won't mind that if you get through."
"All right."
"Here are sandwiches." He handed me a package. "Everything there was in the bar. It's all here. This is a bottle of brandy and a bottle of wine." I put them in my bag. "Let me pay you for those."
"All right, give me fifty lire."
I gave itto him. "The brandy is good," he said. "You don't need to be afraid to give itto your lady. She better get in the boat." He held the boat, it rising and falling against the stone wall and I helped Catherine in. She sat in the stern and pulled her cape around her.
"You know where to go?"
"Up the lake."
"You know how far?"
"Past Luino."
"Past Luino, Cannero, Cannobio, Tranzano. You aren't in Switzerland until you come to Brissago. You have