Suddenly a
voice sounded in his ears causing him to start visibly:
"Surely, it must be a pleasant occupation to be a pigeon fancier."
The tone was ingratiating, but resenting the intrusion, Paolo looked
around and caught an expression that belied the smooth words, and made him
instinctively distrust the stranger who had accosted him.
He did not answer, and the man pursued: "No wonder, when you have so fine a
bird. May I ask for what particular purpose you are training him?"
"Only for a boy's pleasure," was the short reply. Paolo immediately
surmised that this was he of whom Andrea had told him.
As he rose to go, the man went on, still more suavely: "By the way, I have
a very special reason why I should like a carrier pigeon." He lowered his
voice. "And am prepared to pay any amount for him; will you not set a
price?"
Paolo emphatically shook his head. "He can't be bought! I tell you the bird
is not for sale!" And with that the old caretaker walked away.
He was troubled, and the remainder of the time before the steamer sailed
walked the narrow streets, too much disturbed over the incident to notice
the women in the doorways making lace and the children sitting on the
ground beside the narrow footpaths, their fingers busy knitting or
stringing beads.
He did not know that the Austrian followed him, and that, on reaching the
quay, the intruder chose a seat on the other side of the steamer. It is
no wonder that the artists go wild over the harbor, dotted as it is with
picturesque sails of yellow, blue, or red.
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