The Call of the Blood

"Poor old Emile!" she said to herself. "If only I could do something for

him!"

The thought of Maurice sleeping calmly close to her made her long to say

"Thank you" for her great happiness by performing some action of

usefulness, some action that would help another--Emile for choice--to

happiness, or, at least, to calm.

This longing was for a moment so keen in her that it was almost like an

unconscious petition, like an unuttered prayer in the heart, "Give me an

opportunity to show my gratitude."

She stood by the wall for a moment, looking over into the ravine and at

the mountain flank opposite. Etna was startlingly clear to-day. She

fancied that if a fly were to settle upon the snow on its summit she

would be able to see it. The sea was like a mirror in which lay the

reflection of the unclouded sky. It was not far to Africa. She watched a

bird pass towards the sea. Perhaps it was flying to Kairouan, and would

settle at last on one of the white cupolas of the great mosque there, the

Mosque of Djama Kebir.

What could she do for Emile? She could at least write to him. She could

renew her invitation to him to come to Sicily.

"Lucrezia!" she called, softly, lest she might waken Maurice.

"Signora?" said Lucrezia, appearing round the corner of the cottage.

"Please bring me out a pen and ink and writing-paper, will you?"

"Si, signora."

Lucrezia was standing beside Hermione. Now she turned to go into the

house. As she did so she said: "Ecco, Antonino from the post-office!"

"Where?" asked Hermione.

Lucrezia pointed to a little figure that was moving quickly along the

mountain-path towards the cottage.

"There, signora. But why should he come? It is not the hour for the post

yet."

"No. Perhaps it is a telegram. Yes, it must be a telegram."

She glanced at the letter in her hand.

"It's a telegram from Africa," she said, as if she knew.

And at that moment she felt that she did know.

Lucrezia regarded her with round-eyed amazement.

"But, signora, how can you--"

"There, Antonino has disappeared under the trees! We shall see him in a

minute among the rocks. I'll go to meet him."

And she went quickly to the archway, and looked down the path where the

lizards were darting to and fro in the sunshine. Almost directly Antonino

reappeared, a small boy climbing steadily up the steep pathway, with a

leather bag slung over his shoulder.