* * *
As per their plan,after breakfast the following morning, Toby led Diana and the children on a tour of the island.
Feeling strangely eager to show the place off—to share the small sights he held fondly in his memories—he ushered them first to the piazza and halted by the well. “The path we took from the dock to here is part of the path that runs all the way around the island, generally one house back from the shore. There’s only one path, although there are several short alleys giving off it. Today, I suggest we go clockwise and follow the main path all the way around the island.”
“So we go back to the dock?” Bryce asked, plainly eager to be off.
“Not all the way.” Toby waved the children toward the western end of the piazza. “We go back to the basilica, to the base of the tower, and head on from there.”
The children happily trotted forward, leather soles pattering on the flagstones. Toby glanced at Diana. With her eyes closed, she’d been angling her face to the sunshine.
A smile curved her lips, and she opened her eyes and looked at him, then she noticed the vanishing children and, smiling at their enthusiasm, she started in their wake, and he fell in, strolling beside her.
The island’s main thoroughfare followed the square base of the basilica’s tower to where a series of steps led on. He took Diana’s hand to steady her as she climbed and retained possession as they followed the children onward.
She threw him a glance but made no effort to retrieve her hand. After several moments, she observed, “The sun is hot, but the air is so mild. It’s almost chilly in the shadows.”
He smiled. “The breeze off the Alps passes over the lake and keeps the temperatures down.”
Ahead, the children were intent on exploring, and he was happy to encourage their interest. They walked slowly on, keeping to the path as it passed between the outer walls of houses and walled gardens. Every now and then, they came to a spot where they could pause and, between houses, look out at the lake and the mountains to the west.
At one such halt, while the children peered through the iron railings of a private garden at local fishermen in their boats on the lake below, Toby turned his attention to the houses above. When Diana followed his gaze, he explained, “There’s a circle of houses above us, and above them, more or less filling the higher central part of the island, are more of the seminary’s buildings and grounds.”
With one hand anchoring the hat he’d bought her, she tipped up her head, surveying the sight. “The cypresses soften the stone. Combined with the jumble of building styles, the whole is very pretty.” Returning her gaze to his face, she added, “There are more houses than I’d supposed.”
“There’s a village-sized community here.” As the children were now waiting, he waved them on and, together with Diana, followed. “Many of the families have lived here for generations.”
In proof of that, a minute later, they encountered an exceedingly old lady, still spry and sprightly, who was heading in the opposite direction. She returned their nods and smiles and paused to exchange greetings with Toby.
After that, he and Diana walked on, with the children enthusiastically exploring several niches in the enclosing walls and sitting on stone benches set at the corners where the path turned. Along the way, whenever the opportunity arose, the children and Diana paused to peer through wrought iron gates into private gardens.
Several of the alleys they passed led to the lake, some with stone jetties barely big enough to accommodate the smallest rowboat.
“The locals use these mostly to fish from,” Toby told the others.
The boys fixed big eyes on his face.
“We are going to learn how to fish while we’re here, aren’t we?” Roland asked.
Toby grinned. “Perhaps you can start this afternoon. We’ll see.”
The latter words were drowned by the boys’ cheers, and with such a carrot dangling, they were very ready to continue their circuit of the island.
They set off again, but Toby noticed Diana was faintly frowning. “What is it?”
She glanced at him. “Is it possible for someone—any of our pursuers—to hire a boat from elsewhere on the lake’s shore, row across, and come onto the island via one of these smaller piers? Could they reach the island without alerting your friends at Orta?”
He smiled. “No. The right to ferry people and goods to and from the island is very jealously guarded. It’s a commercial as well as traditional license, and no one in the area would want to get on the wrong side of the people of Orta or the island community. No one local would allow strangers to rent a rowboat capable of reaching the island.”
Her expression eased. “Ah. I see.”
As they strolled on, Toby was conscious of feeling unexpectedly content, as if in total, if temporary, charity with all in his life. He hadn’t felt such unalloyed contentment in quite some time, and it felt strange to be experiencing such a feeling while in the middle of a mission.
Then again, as he’d acknowledged earlier, in coming to the island, he’d intentionally stepped out of the mission.
He directed the others’ attention to various notable houses they passed, and they stopped to examine several frescos painted on garden walls.
On reaching the mouth of the next alley leading to the lake, they spied two fishermen sitting on a pier, mending nets. The men saw them and instantly hailed Toby, and he waved and called back.
