Ramona [54]
so good; he brought it here, at a great price, for me, but I could not lie on it. It seemed as if it would throw me off as soon as I lay down; it is a cheating device, like all these innovations the Americans have brought into the country. But Senor Felipe till now thought it a luxury; now he tosses on it, and says it is throwing him all the time."
Alessandro smiled, in spite of his reverence for the Senora. "I once lay down on one myself, Senora," he said, "and that was what I said to my father. It was like a wild horse under me, making himself ready to buck. I thought perhaps the invention was of the saints, that men should not sleep too long."
"There is a pile of raw-hides," said Juan, "well cured, but not too stiff; Juan Jose was to have sent them off to-day to be sold; one of those will be just right. It must not be too dry."
"The fresher the better," said Alessandro, "so it have no dampness. Shall I make the bed, Senora?" he asked, "and will the Senora permit that I make it on the veranda? I was just asking Juan Can if he thought I might be so bold as to ask you to let me bring Senor Felipe into the outer air. With us, it is thought death to be shut up in walls, as he has been so long. Not till we are sure to die, do we go into the dark like that."
The Senora hesitated. She did not share Alessandro's prejudice in favor of fresh air.
"Night and day both?" she said. "Surely it is not well to sleep out in the night?"
"That is the best of all, Senora," replied Alessandro, earnestly. "I beg the Senora to try it. If Senor Felipe have not mended greatly after the first night he had so slept, then Alessandro will be a liar."
"No, only mistaken," said the Senora, gently. She felt herself greatly drawn to this young man by his devotion, as she thought, of Felipe. "When I die and leave Felipe here," she had more than once said to herself, "it would be a great good to him to have such a servant as this on the place."
"Very well, Alessandro," she replied; "make the bed, and we will try it at once."
This was early in the forenoon. The sun was still high in the west, when Ramona, sitting as usual in the veranda, at her embroidery, saw Alessandro coming, followed by two men, bearing the raw-hide bed.
"What can that be?" she said. "Some new invention of Alessandro's, but for what?"
"A bed for the Senor Felipe, Senorita," said Alessandro, running lightly up the steps. "The Senora has given permission to place it here on the veranda, and Senor Felipe is to lie here day and night; and it will be a marvel in your eyes how he will gain strength. It is the close room which is keeping him weak now; he has no illness."
"I believe that is the truth, Alessandro," exclaimed Ramona; "I have been thinking the same thing. My head aches after I am in that room but an hour, and when I come here I am well. But the nights too, Alessandro? Is it not harmful to sleep out in the night air?"
"Why, Senorita?" asked Alessandro, simply.
And Ramona had no answer, except, "I do not know; I have always heard so."
"My people do not think so," replied Alessandro; "unless it is cold, we like it better. It is good, Senorita, to look up at the sky in the night."
"I should think it would be," cried Ramona. "I never thought of it. I should like to do it."
Alessandro was busy, with his face bent down, arranging the bedstead in a sheltered corner of the veranda. If his face had been lifted, Ramona would have seen a look on it that would have startled her more than the one she had surprised a few days previous, after the incident with Margarita. All day there had been coming and going in Alessandro's brain a confused procession of thoughts., vague yet intense. Put in words, they would have been found to be little more than ringing changes on this idea: "The Senorita Ramona has Indian blood in her veins. The Senorita Ramona is alone. The Senora loves her not. Indian blood! Indian blood!" These, or something like them, would have been the words; but Alessandro did not put them in words. He only worked away on the rough posts
Alessandro smiled, in spite of his reverence for the Senora. "I once lay down on one myself, Senora," he said, "and that was what I said to my father. It was like a wild horse under me, making himself ready to buck. I thought perhaps the invention was of the saints, that men should not sleep too long."
"There is a pile of raw-hides," said Juan, "well cured, but not too stiff; Juan Jose was to have sent them off to-day to be sold; one of those will be just right. It must not be too dry."
"The fresher the better," said Alessandro, "so it have no dampness. Shall I make the bed, Senora?" he asked, "and will the Senora permit that I make it on the veranda? I was just asking Juan Can if he thought I might be so bold as to ask you to let me bring Senor Felipe into the outer air. With us, it is thought death to be shut up in walls, as he has been so long. Not till we are sure to die, do we go into the dark like that."
The Senora hesitated. She did not share Alessandro's prejudice in favor of fresh air.
"Night and day both?" she said. "Surely it is not well to sleep out in the night?"
"That is the best of all, Senora," replied Alessandro, earnestly. "I beg the Senora to try it. If Senor Felipe have not mended greatly after the first night he had so slept, then Alessandro will be a liar."
"No, only mistaken," said the Senora, gently. She felt herself greatly drawn to this young man by his devotion, as she thought, of Felipe. "When I die and leave Felipe here," she had more than once said to herself, "it would be a great good to him to have such a servant as this on the place."
"Very well, Alessandro," she replied; "make the bed, and we will try it at once."
This was early in the forenoon. The sun was still high in the west, when Ramona, sitting as usual in the veranda, at her embroidery, saw Alessandro coming, followed by two men, bearing the raw-hide bed.
"What can that be?" she said. "Some new invention of Alessandro's, but for what?"
"A bed for the Senor Felipe, Senorita," said Alessandro, running lightly up the steps. "The Senora has given permission to place it here on the veranda, and Senor Felipe is to lie here day and night; and it will be a marvel in your eyes how he will gain strength. It is the close room which is keeping him weak now; he has no illness."
"I believe that is the truth, Alessandro," exclaimed Ramona; "I have been thinking the same thing. My head aches after I am in that room but an hour, and when I come here I am well. But the nights too, Alessandro? Is it not harmful to sleep out in the night air?"
"Why, Senorita?" asked Alessandro, simply.
And Ramona had no answer, except, "I do not know; I have always heard so."
"My people do not think so," replied Alessandro; "unless it is cold, we like it better. It is good, Senorita, to look up at the sky in the night."
"I should think it would be," cried Ramona. "I never thought of it. I should like to do it."
Alessandro was busy, with his face bent down, arranging the bedstead in a sheltered corner of the veranda. If his face had been lifted, Ramona would have seen a look on it that would have startled her more than the one she had surprised a few days previous, after the incident with Margarita. All day there had been coming and going in Alessandro's brain a confused procession of thoughts., vague yet intense. Put in words, they would have been found to be little more than ringing changes on this idea: "The Senorita Ramona has Indian blood in her veins. The Senorita Ramona is alone. The Senora loves her not. Indian blood! Indian blood!" These, or something like them, would have been the words; but Alessandro did not put them in words. He only worked away on the rough posts