Manly Wade Wellman - Novel 1940 Read Online Free Page A

In her way, she was
nearly as impressive to me as Guaracco had been. Not tall, of a full but fine
figure and as graceful as a dancer, she paused on the threshhold as though
timid at sight of a stranger. Her face was finely oval, with large, soft eyes
of midnight blue and a shy, close-held little mouth that was so darkly red as
to be purple. These spots of color glowed the more vividly because of the
smooth ivory pallor of her skin.
    Her hair was thick and sooty black, combed neatly straight
under a coif as snug as a helmet. She wore a chemise of sober brown with a
black bodice over it, and a black woollen skirt so full and long as to hide her feet.
    In her thin, steady hands she held a flat iron box, the
sewing kit Guaracco had commanded.
    Have I described a beautiful woman?
    She was that, and nobly modest as well. And so I call her
impressive.
    "Lisa, I present to you Ser Leo, a new servant of my
will," said Guaracco to her. "He is to be of value to me, therefore
be courteous to him. Begin by altering this doublet to his measure. Rip the
seams here and here, and sew them again in a fuller manner."
    He turned to address me. "Ser Leo, this girl Lisa is
for you a model of obedience and single-hearted helpfulness." He raked her
with his eyes, not contemptuously, but with a dispassionate pride, as though she
were a fine piece of furniture. "I bought her, my friend, of her beggarly parents,
eighteen years gone. She was no more than six months old. I have been father
and mother and teacher to her. She has known no other lord than myself , no other motive than mine."
    The girl bowed her head, as if to; hide her confusion at
being thus lectured upon, and busied herself with scissors
and needle. I pulled Guaracco's red cloak around my naked shoulders. My
self-appointed master smiled a trifle.
    "That flaming mantle becomes you well. Take it as a
present from me. But to return to Lisa—I trust her as I trust few. She and the
two imps you have seen are the closest to me of my unorthodox household. She
cooks for me, sews for me, keeps this house for me. I, in turn, shelter and
instruct her. Some day, if it will profit me greatly, I may let her go to a new
master— some great lord who will thank me for a handsome, submissive present. She
will cherish that great lord, and learn his secrets for me. Is that not so,
Lisa?"
    She bowed her head the lower, and the ivory of her cheeks
showed pink, like the sky at the first touch of morning.
    I shared her embarrassment, but Guarracco chuckled
quietly, and poured himself a half-goblet of wine. This he drank slowly,
without inviting me to join him.
    In a surprisingly short time, Lisa had finished broadening
the doublet for me, and it fitted my torso like wax. Guaracco was moved to
another of his suave compliments on the appearance I made.
     
    AS evening was drawing near, the three of us took a meal.
It was served in the hedged yard where Guaracco's dupes had prayed to infernal powers
for rain. Whether by prayer or by coincidence, the rain did
arrive not long after we had finished the bread, chicken and salad that Lisa
set before us. As the first drops fell, we went indoors and took wine
and fresh peaches and honey by way of dessert, in a great front room that was
luxuriously furnished with gilded couches, tables and tapestries.
    After the supper, Guaracco conducted me to his workshop, a
great flag-floored cellar. Here was a bench, with lamps, retorts and labeled
flasks for experimentation in chemistry, and in this branch of science I was to
find my host—or captor—amazingly learned.
    The greater part of the space, however, was filled with
tools and odds and ends of machinery, both of wood and metal.
    At Guaracco's command, I busied myself among these. But my
strange memory-fault — I was beginning to think of it as partial amnesia—came
to muddle me again. I could make only the most slovenly demonstrations, and when
I sought to explain, I found myself failing wretchedly.
    "You cannot be blamed