CHAPTER VI
_Wherein We See Pinocchio's Heart_
All three of them were now up again. It was to be for them a day ofgreat gladness. Yet all three were in a bad humor. They didn't eventalk. Captain Teschisso, dressed in a brand-new uniform, couldn't tearhimself away from the mirror, which he addressed in a low voice:
"Just see what they have made of me. I can't go on this way.... I amnot presentable. Without an ear, with a slash on the cheek, half mybeard gone ... I look like a wild animal to be shown at a circus.Lord! How many kicks I'd like to give those dogs! They've botched meso I'm no longer fit for this world.... It's against the regulations,but before I die I want to devour heaps of those curs! Who allows themto make war like this? Who permits them to reduce a captain of Alpinetroops to such a sight? It would be better for me to die at once. I'mnot good for anything, and that dog of a Cutemup might have made abetter job of me. Let him show himself and I'll give him a piece of mymind."
Poor Teschisso! He was right! His ugly scar did disfigure him. Anotherman would have wept at seeing himself thus; he trembled with eagernessto be revenged.
Pinocchio, too, was grumbling like a stewpot, giving vent to his illhumor. They had put on him a wooden leg that was a real triumph ofmechanism. It was jointed like a real one and moved with an automaticmotion in harmony with his sound leg. Pinocchio had tried to run, tojump, and to balance, and had to convince himself that he had not lostanything by the exchange. But the leg had one fault--when he extendedit it unbent too rapidly, hitting the heel on the ground with a noisyand annoying sound. And in addition to this the mechanism, which wasstill so new, rattled.
"Plague take it! My own didn't need to be oiled. Who knows how muchoil this one will expect me to give it? But that I'll make Mr. Cutemuppay for. If he comes up to me and repeats that I am better than Iused to be I'll plant another kick in his stomach, then I'll ask howhe would manage to walk if it were his, on the tip of his toes, withthis heel that beats like a drumstick."
The Bersaglierino, too, had a wooden left arm. You wouldn't even havenoticed it. He could move it in any direction, and the glovedartificial hand which came out of the sleeve of his gray jacket,although a little stiff, could be moved as easily as a real hand. Thewound that furrowed his forehead didn't disfigure him; indeed, it gaveto his gentle features a certain air of nobility and fierceness. Butthe Bersaglierino was sad, so sad that if you had looked into hiseyes you would have been certain that he had to make a great effortnot to cry. Pinocchio noticed it.
"Tell me, Bersaglierino, what was your business before the war?"
"What's that to you?"
"Oh, I just want to know."
"I was a journalist, a writer."
"Hm! Must be a horrid profession."
"Why?"
"Because you have to work so hard not to die of hunger."
"Who told you so?"
"Nobody. But if you had made a lot of money in your job you wouldn'thave left it to volunteer, and as you get only fourteen cents a day asa volunteer at the front, as a civilian you must have been hard up allthe year. Then ... you needn't make a face ... you don't write withthe left hand ... so you can go back to being a journalist, even with... the Austrian improvement."
He hoped to drive away his sadness by saying it in this way, butinstead he only increased it.
"Leave me in peace, puppet!" he said, roughly and with such a sterntone that Pinocchio in his turn longed to cry.
At this moment the door of the room was opened with great violence andMajor Cutemup, as if hurled by a catapult, made his appearance,followed by Fatina and by a regiment of soldiers and nurses. He wasred as the comb of a cock at his first crow, wheezed every now andthen like a pair of bellows, and dripped sweat as a bucket just out ofthe well drips water.
"Sister Fatina, I rely on you ... I rely on you to see that everythingis in order. Four soldiers will wash the windows ... six will scrubthe floors, which must shine like a mirror, and everything must bedone in ten minutes. And you, boys, put on your special uniforms.... Ihave great news for you. His Majesty has announced his visit to thehospital; with his own august hands he will bestow the decorations.You, Bersaglierino, who are among these fortunate ones, take care tobe irreproachable in your appearance. You, Captain ..."
"What! What did he say? Do you think I can let his Majesty see me inthis frightful condition? Half a beard, half a mustache, minus an ear,half a face ..."
"But ... I don't know what you can do about it. Fix it up the best youcan."
"Certainly I'll fix it up, I'll ... Good Heavens! man, let me go to abarber who can make me look like a Christian, because you, MajorCutemup, have made me resemble one of Menelik's crew."
"But ..."
"But I swear that I won't let the dogs who got me in this conditionstick their fingers on my face, I tell you."
"Teschisso!"
"No, I won't let them touch me."
"Captain Teschisso, I must remind you of the respect due ..."
"What's that? Major Cutemup ... did you think I was talking of you?Not a thought of doing so. I meant those dogs of Austrians."
"A-a-a-h! Then be off to the barber's."
"Thanks. I'll have him fix me up in a minute."
"Boy, hurry up. His Majesty is coming."
* * * * *
Ten minutes later everything was shining like a mirror. The soldierswere already at work in the adjoining room. Pinocchio had disappeared.Teschisso had gone to be shaved. Fatina was arranging the whitewindow-curtains. The Bersaglierino was seated on his bed, his rightarm resting on his knee and his chin held in the hollow of his hand.
"What's the matter? What is it, Bersaglierino?"
He didn't answer, and Fatina, after having looked at him a minute withher large, soft eyes, came up nearer and sat down beside him on thelittle white bed.
"Tell me what's the trouble, Bersaglierino. Why are you crying? Whydon't you make yourself handsome? Didn't you hear? The King is comingto give you the medal."
"Why should I care about that? What do you think that means to me,Fatina?"
And then, since she seemed much astonished at his words, he continued,vehemently:
"Why, indeed, should I care about that?... After they have sent meaway from here I shall go back to living alone like a dog ... tofighting every day for my existence. Who will get any satisfactionfrom the reward the King's hand has bestowed on me? No one. Perhapsthe day will come when I shall have to pin the medal on my coat tokeep the boys in the streets from making fun of me, the poor maimedcreature who will wander about playing a street-organ."
"Oh, Bersaglierino! I never imagined you could talk like that. I don'twant you to talk so."
And she spoke with so much feeling that he, fearing he had offendedher, started to beg her pardon:
"Fatina ..."
"Tell me, aren't you glad to have done your duty, to have given yourblood for your country? Didn't you volunteer? Didn't you go willinglythrough the barbed wire to open a road of victory for your country?And now you are almost blaming yourself for the good you have done,for fear of the morrow. And you think yourself destined to end as alaughing-stock of horrid little children? Oh, but you are bad! Tellme, are you really so sure that you are alone in the world, that thereis no one who will rejoice to see shining on your breast the medalyour country has bestowed on you?"
"Ah, if it were so, Fatina, if it were true!"
"Do you believe that no one has followed you in thought through allyour dangers on the field of honor, that no one suffered, knowing youwere wounded, or trembled at the thought of your bed of pain? Do youreally believe that there is no one to rejoice at seeing you take upagain your place in the world? You are young, full of ardor andintelligence ..."
"But I am poor, so poor!"
"You can get rich by working. You fought the war with weapons;continue it with the pen. Write what you have seen; you will make aname for yourself and some day will be the pride
of your family."
"I! Don't make fun of me, Fatina. I, wounded, maimed, will never finda woman to link her life with mine."
"Bersaglierino, I, too, am alone in the world, free to dispose ofmyself. I am not rich, but I have enough to live on; I am not aprofessor, but I am widely educated.... I will be frank; if to-morrowa brave man like you, in the same condition, should come and ask me..."
"To be his wife?"
"I should say yes, and I should be proud. Do you understand? Proud ofhim and of the medal shining on his breast, which would seem like myown...."
"Oh! Fatina, Fatina!"
He could say no more. Tears choked him. But she looked at him tenderlywith her kind eyes, and in them, too two large tears were shining.
Pinocchio could not stand any more of this. For half an hour he hadbeen hidden under the bed, had therefore listened to this nobledialogue, and had had to bite his lips to keep from crying. But as itwas not amusing he could not stand it any longer. He crawled veryquietly from his hiding-place, approached Fatina and Bersaglierinocautiously and without their seeing him or being able to put up anyresistance, he gathered the two heads in his arms, brought them closetogether, and held them close, covering them both with kisses.
Pinocchio's generous and lovable impulse had found the way to unitethese two beings whom destiny had brought together. The picture theymade was interesting and touching and would have touched every one whoknew them, if at this moment Captain Teschisso had not entered, quitemade over by the barber.
"What ... what are you doing? Aren't you preparing for the augustvisit?"
"Augusta? Who's she?"
"What? Don't you know that the King, the commander-in-chief of ourarmy, the first soldier of New Italy, the head of the state, thecorporal of the Zouaves, like his grandfather before him, the flowerof gentlemen, a good father of his family, one of the wisestsovereigns of Europe...? In short, you'll see him soon. Hurry up,because when I came in the royal automobile had been sighted.... Don'tyou think that dog of a barber fixed me up fine? Anyway, he was ableto get rid of the half of my beard which the Germans shaved with ashell."
The King? This short word frightened Pinocchio terribly. This man whocommanded everybody, who could put everybody in prison, who was namedMajesty, August, and Victor Emanuel all at the same time, who causedthe rooms to be polished in five minutes, who set Cutemup totrembling, who kept all the wounded in the hospital in order, all ofthem men of valor who had held their own against hundreds of thefoe--frightened him like a hobgoblin or something similar. At thevery thought of having his glance fall upon him he felt goose-fleshall over his body.
"It isn't fear; it is lack of courage or something of that sort, but Imust get out of the way. I have never had anything to do with kingsand I don't know much about the way they think. If Augusta, or hisMajesty, is in a bad humor and should find my presence among thesoldiers out of order, he can bat his eye at Cutemup, make him a sign,and ... whack! ... my head would roll on the ground. Wouldn't thatmurderer of a surgeon be glad to be revenged for the kick I gave himin the stomach? Yes, I must find some way ..."
His musings were interrupted by three bugle notes which brought everyone to attention.
"There he is! There he is!"
Then resounded enthusiastic hurrahs for the King.
Pinocchio disappeared under Bersaglierino's bed ... popped up again,disguised himself, and no one noticed that ...
Captain Teschisso and the Bersaglierino stood at attention at the footof their beds, straight and immovable, awaiting the royal visit. TheKing in his soldier way entered without ceremony, followed by hisaide-de-camp, General Win-the-War, Major Cutemup, and a number ofother officers of the garrison, Red Cross nurses, and other woundedwho had come from their rooms to take part in the ceremony. It didn'tseem possible that the room could hold so many persons, but all ofthem crowded in, squeezing together in order to see the King and to benear to him. And his face, which was wrinkled, was illuminated by akindly smile that spread out from his thick mustache grown prematurelywhite. He gave Teschisso a military salute, then shook his handvigorously and said:
"I am so pleased to see you recovered. I am sure that when you go backto your regiment I shall hear more of you. You Alpine troopers are allof you wonderful soldiers."
"For Italy and for our King, your Majesty."
"For our Italy greater than ever."
"She shall be, if we have to shed all our blood."
"Such is my belief."
Major Cutemup had suddenly turned crimson with rage, and approachedFatina, his large, angry eyes scowling at her from behind hiseyeglasses.
"Why have you treated me so?" he asked, in a low, furious voice.
"I?"
"Yes. I told you to put everything in order."
"Well?"
"Look at that mess!" and he nodded toward a kind of clothes-hangernear the head of Bersaglierino's bed, on which were hung a hat withcock plumes, a coat, with a pair of trousers all torn and ragged anddirty. It was the uniform the brave young soldier had worn on thefield and which Fatina had hidden under the bed a little while ago.
Fatina didn't know what to say. The sudden appearance of thisclothes-hanger, ... those clothes spread out, affected her so that shehad no thought of the major or of his rage, which escaped in suchviolent outbursts that they would have started a windmill going.
The King had approached Bersaglierino, and General Win-the-Warpresented him, with these words:
"Your Majesty, this brave soldier has been proposed for the medal ofvalor for the following reasons: enrolled as a volunteer, he took partin the first battles with the enemy, giving an example of courage anddiscipline; he volunteered to blow up the enemy wire defenses; hecarried out the assignment given him, and, unhurt himself, he tried tofree a comrade caught on the barbed wire and managed to put to flightan enemy patrol which attacked him. Then he was hit several times bymachine-gun fire. Carried to the first-aid station, he showed thegreatest self-control and cheered for his King and his country when helearned that his efforts had enabled his company to take an importanttrench from the enemy."
The King took from the hand of his adjutant a silver medal hung from alight-blue ribbon and pinned it on Bersaglierino's breast, who was sopale with emotion that he looked as if he would faint, then claspedthe soldier's right hand in both of his and said:
"Bravo! Bravo! Bravo! You have done your duty as an Italian soldier.Treasure this medal which your country gives you by the hand of yourKing. Wear it always proudly on your breast. Every one should knowthat you deserve it and that they should follow your example.... Youare crying? But it is with happiness, is it not?"
"Yes, your Majesty."
"And now that you have recovered, what will you do?"
"I shall go back to my profession. I am a journalist."
"And ... will you be able?"
"I hope so. I was very severely wounded, but ..."
"You cured him, Major Cutemup?"
"I myself, your Majesty; he was one of the worst cases. The left armcarried away by a shell splinter, wounded on the temple, andthreatened with damage to his eye, wounded in his third upper rib andanother wound in the groin with lesion in the intestines. An abdominaloperation was performed, his arm was amputated and there was a suturein the occipital region.... The poor fellow has certainly had hisshare."
"You can see that by looking at his glorious uniform; it is indeed adocument."
The uniform in question trembled and the plumed hat shook.
"Yes ... truly ... but ..."
"Would you deny it?"
"No, your Majesty, I wanted to say that that uniform shouldn't bethere just now. It is a glorious object, but in a hospital ward it mayhave infectious germs.... I had given orders to ... but ... and ifyour Majesty will permit, I will give orders to remove it at once."
He had scarcely finished speaking when the coat, trousers, and hatsuddenly fell to the ground with such a curious noise that Cutemupcould not help running up to see w
hat had happened. Imagine how helooked when he found himself face to face with Pinocchio, cold withterror. He tried to hide him with the glorious garments in order tocarry him off, bundled up in them, but the King turned and asked:
"What's happened?"
"Your Majesty, I don't know how to explain it.... Under these clotheswas hidden a wretch who ..."
"Ah! I saw. I know him. Pinocchio is one of my old and dearacquaintances. I am glad to see him among my soldiers, insemi-military garb. Leave to Bersaglierino this uniform that is dearto him. It will be a glorious souvenir for his family. Good-by, bravesoldier; remember your King. I called to you in the hour of need; ifto-morrow you have need of me, remember that I shall never forgetthose who have served me on the battle-field."
And the good King, the loving father, the model soldier, turned toleave, followed by his suite.
Before he had crossed the threshold Pinocchio had sprung to his feet,flung him two kisses with the tips of his fingers, and began to dancelike mad with happiness. His wooden leg made a horrible noise. Fatina,fearing Cutemup's anger, begged him to behave.
"What? What? If Cutemup scolds me, woe to him. Did you hear? The Kingis an old acquaintance of mine. If he gets offended with me, I'll takeout my paper and pen and inkstand and I will write: 'Dear King, youare the best and kindest man in the world, but do me the favor to cutoff the head, or some other organ, from the major who amputated my legwithout permission. In this world an eye for an eye, a head for a leg.Many kisses from your Pinocchio.'"