disappointments?"
"Signore," said Longfellow. "We must know what you taught Mr. Galvin. He speaks and reads Italian now?"
Bachi threw his head back and laughed. "As little as you please! The man couldn't read English if Noah Webster were standing by his side! He always dressed in your American soldier's blue duds and gold buttons. He wanted Dante, Dante, Dante. It did not occur to him he must learn the language first. Che stranezza!"
"Did you lend him your translation?" Longfellow asked.
Bachi shook his head. "It was my hope to keep that enterprise entirely secret. I am sure we all know how your Mr. Fields reacts to any who try to rival his authors. In all events, I tried gratifying Signor Calvin's strange wishes. I suggested we conduct the introductory Italian lessons by reading the Commedia together, line by line. But it was like reading alongside a dumb beast. Then he wished me to give a sermon on Dante's Hell, but I refused on principle - if he wanted to engage me as a tutor, he must learn Italian."
"You told him you would not continue the lessons?" asked Lowell.
"That would have given me the greatest pleasure, Professore. But one day he stopped calling on me. I have not been able to find him since - and have still not been compensated."
"Signore," said Longfellow. "This is very important. Did Mr. Galvin ever speak of individuals in our own time, our own city, whom he envisioned in his understanding of Dante? You must consider whether he ever mentioned anyone at all. Perhaps persons connected in some way with the College who are interested in discrediting Dante."
Bachi shook his head. "He hardly spoke at all, Signor Longfellow, like a dumb ox. Is this something to do with the College's present campaign against your work?"
Lowell's attention perked up. "What do you know of it?"
"I warned you of it when you came to see me, signore," Bachi said. "I told you to take care of your Dante class, didn't I? Do you recall when you saw me on the College Yard some weeks before that? I had received a message to meet a gentleman for a confidential interview - oh, how convinced I was that the Harvard fellows wanted me to return to my post! Imagine my stupidity! In truth, that blasted rogue was on some assignment to prove Dante's ill effects on students, and wished me to assist."
"Simon Camp," Lowell said through clenched teeth.
"I almost punched his face in, I can tell you," Bachi reported.
"I wish to God you had, Signor Bachi," Lowell said, sharing a smile with him. "He yet may prove the ruin of Dante through all this. What did you reply to him?"
"How was I to respond? 'Go to the Devil' was all I could think to say. Here I am, barely able to buy my bread after so many years with the College, and who in the administration hires that jackass?"
Lowell snickered. "Who else? It was Dr. Mann - " He stopped suddenly and whirled around with a significant glance at Longfellow. "Dr. Manning."
Caroline Manning swept up broken glass. "Jane - mop!" She called out to the maid for the second time, sulking at the pool of sherry drying on the rug of her husband's library.
As Mrs. Manning made her way out of the room, a ring sounded at the door. She pulled back the curtain just an inch to see Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Now, where was he coming from at this hour? She could hardly look at the poor man these last years the few times she saw him around Cambridge. She did not know how one could live through so much. How undefeatable he seemed. And here she was with a dustpan, looking positively like a housekeeper.
Mrs. Manning apologized: Dr. Manning was not at home. She explained that he had earlier been expecting a guest and had wished privacy. He and his guest must have gone for a walk, though she found this a bit queer in such ghastly weather. And they had left some broken glass in the library. "But you know how men drink sometimes," she added.
"Could they have taken the carriage out?" Longfellow asked.
Mrs. Manning said that the horse distemper would have precluded that: Dr. Manning had strictly forbidden even the brief removal of their horses. But she agreed to walk Longfellow to the barn.
"For Heaven's sake," she said when they found no trace of Dr. Manning's coach and horses. "Something is the matter, isn't it, Mr. Longfellow?