"Signora!" he cried, staring as if ready to be offended.

Then he looked at Maurice, who was laughing, too, threw himself back

against the wall, opened his mouth, and joined in with all his heart. But

suddenly he stopped. His face changed, became very serious.

"I may go, signora?" he asked. "No one can fish as I can. The others will

not go in far, and they soon get cold and want to put on their clothes.

And the padrone! I must take care of the padrone! Guglielmo, the

contadino, will sleep in the house, I know. Shall I call him? Guglielmo!

Guglielmo!"

He vanished like a flash, they scarcely knew in what direction.

"He's alive!" exclaimed Maurice. "By Jove, he's alive, that boy!

Glorious, glorious life! Oh, there's something here that--"

He broke off, looked down at the broad sea shimmering in the sun, then

said: "The sun, the sea, the music, the people, the liberty--it goes to my

head, it intoxicates me."

"You'll go to-night?" she said.

"D'you mind if I do?"

"Mind? No. I want you to go. I want you to revel in this happy time, this

splendid, innocent, golden time. And to-morrow we'll watch for you,

Lucrezia and I, watch for you down there on the path. But--you'll bring

us some of the fish, Maurice? You won't forget us?"

"Forget you!" he said. "You shall have all--"

"No, no. Only the little fish, the babies that Carmela rejects from the

frittura."

"I'll go into the sea with Gaspare," said Maurice.

"I'm sure you will, and farther out even than he does."

"Ah, he'll never allow that. He'd swim to Africa first!"

That night, at twenty-one o'clock, Hermione and Lucrezia stood under the

arch, and watched Maurice and Gaspare springing down the mountain-side as

if in seven-leagued boots. Soon they disappeared into the darkness of the

ravine, but for some time their loud voices could be heard singing

lustily: "Ciao, ciao, ciao,

Morettina bella ciao,

Prima di partire

Un bacio ti voglio da';

Un bacio al papà,

Un bacio alla mammà,

Cinquanta alla mia fidanzata,

Che vado a far solda'."

"I wish I were a man, Lucrezia," said Hermione, when the voices at length

died away towards the sea.

"Signora, we were made for the men. They weren't made for us. But I like

being a girl."

"To-night. I know why, Lucrezia."

And then the padrona and the cameriera sat down together on the terrace

under the stars, and talked together about the man the cameriera loved,

and his exceeding glory.




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