The Call of the Blood

For a moment he sat quite still in the glare of the sun, mentally

repeating to himself these words of his wife. So the inevitable had

happened. For he felt it was inevitable. Fate was against him. He was not

to have his pleasure.

"Signorino! Come sta lei? Lei sta bene?"

He started and looked up. He had heard no footstep. Salvatore stood by

him, smiling at him, Salvatore with bare feet, and a fish-basket slung

over his arm.

"Buon giorno, Salvatore!" he answered, with an effort.

Salvatore looked at Maurice's cigarette, put down the basket, and sat

down on the seat by Maurice's side.

"I haven't smoked to-day, signore," he began. "Dio mio! But it must be

good to have plenty of soldi!"

"Ecco!"

Maurice held out his cigarette-case.

"Take two--three!"

"Grazie, signore, mille grazie!"

He took them greedily.

"And the fair, signorino--only four days now to the fair! I have been to

order the donkeys for me and Maddalena."

"Davvero?" Maurice said, mechanically.

"Si, signore. From Angelo of the mill. He wanted fifteen lire, but I

laughed at him. I was with him a good hour and I got them for nine. Per

Dio! Fifteen lire and to a Siciliano! For he didn't know you were coming.

I took care not to tell him that."

"Oh, you took care not to tell him that I was coming!"

Maurice was looking over the wall at the platform of the station far down

below. He seemed to see himself upon it, waiting for the train to glide

in on the day of the fair, waiting among the smiling Sicilian facchini.

"Si, signore. Was not I right?"

"Quite right."

"Per Dio, signore, these are good cigarettes. Where do they come from?"

"From Cairo, in Egypt."

"Egitto! They must cost a lot."

He edged nearer to Maurice.

"You must be very happy, signorino."

"I!" Maurice laughed. "Madonna! Why?"

"Because you are so rich!"

There was a fawning sound in the fisherman's voice, a fawning look in his

small, screwed-up eyes.

"To you it would be nothing to buy all the donkeys at the fair of San

Felice."

Maurice moved ever so little away from him.

"Ah, signorino, if I had been born you how happy I should be!"

And he heaved a great sigh and puffed at the cigarette voluptuously.

Maurice said nothing. He was still looking at the railway platform. And

now he seemed to see the train gliding in on the day of the fair of San

Felice.