The Call of the Blood

"Like that."

Sebastiano moved his hand to and fro in the air, keeping it absolutely

level. Gaspare continued to explain with gathering excitement and

persuasiveness, talking to his master as much by gesture as by the words

that Maurice could only partially understand.

"The sea is calm. Nito has the net, but he will not go into the sea. Per

Dio, he is birbante. He will say he has the rheumatism, I know, and walk

like that." (Gaspare hobbled to and fro before them, making a face of

acute suffering.) "He has asked for me. Hasn't Nito asked for me,

Sebastiano?"

Here Gaspare made a grimace at Sebastiano, who answered, calmly: "Yes, he has asked for you to come with the padrone."

"I knew it. Then I shall undress. I shall take one end of the net while

Nito holds the other, and I shall go out into the sea. I shall go up to

here." (He put his hands up to his chin, stretching his neck like one

avoiding a rising wave.) "And I shall wade, you'll see!--and if I come to

a hole I shall swim. I can swim for hours, all day if I choose."

"And all night too?" said Hermione, smiling at his excitement.

"Davvero! But at night I must drink wine to keep out the cold. I come out

like this." (He shivered violently, making his teeth chatter.) "Then I

drink a glass and I am warm, and when they have taken the fish I go in

again. We fish all along the shore from Isola Bella round by the point

there, where there's the Casa delle Sirene, and to the caves beyond the

Caffè Berardi. And when we've got enough--many fish--at dawn we sleep on

the sand. And when the sun is up Carmela will take the fish and make a

frittura, and we all eat it and drink more wine, and then--"

"And then--you're ready for the Campo Santo?" said Hermione.

"No, signora. Then we will dance the tarantella, and come home up the

mountain singing, 'O sole mio!' and 'A mezzanotte a punto,' and the song

of the Mafioso, and--"

Hermione began to laugh unrestrainedly. Gaspare, by his voice, his face,

his gestures, had made them assist at a veritable orgie of labor,

feasting, sleep, and mirth, all mingled together and chasing one another

like performers in a revel. Even his suggestion of slumber on the sands

was violent, as if they were to sleep with a kind of fury of excitement

and determination.