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It must have been me you heard. When you went under the water I cried out. Drink some wine, signorino." He held a glass full of wine to Delarey's lips. Delarey drank. "But you've got a man's voice, Gaspare!" he said, putting down the glass and beginning to get into his clothes. "Per Dio! Would you have me squeak like a woman, signore?" Delarey laughed and said no more.
His manner, as he addressed his wife and daughter, was almost official. "I am to take it, I believe," he began, "that you have finally decided, Ella, to embrace our friend Delarey's suggestion and to leave us on Saturday for New York?" "If you please," Ella murmured, with glowing eyes. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you both for letting me go."
"I brought my mistress home from the Opera, sir. I rode on the box with Mrs. Delarey's chauffeur. After I had seen her safely in the hotel, I went up to my room for two minutes and left the hotel by the back entrance." "Any one see you go?" "The door-keeper, sir, and I passed a page upon the stairs." "Wasn't it rather late for you to go out?"
Joubert's absence on the raid towards the south did not sensibly diminish the retaining power of the attack, and although the loss of several thousand Free State burghers who were transferred to Cronje's command on the Modder or to Delarey's at Colesberg was in part made up by a reinforcement of Transvaalers, the force sitting round Ladysmith had to assist in the defence of the line of the Tugela against Duller; yet, albeit weakened by that necessity, it was still able without much effort to pin White down to the banks of the Klip River.
Yes, the passing hour would be forgotten. That was certain. It would be dawn ere Lucrezia and Gaspare returned. Delarey's cigar was burned to a stump. He took it from his lips and threw it with all his force over the wall towards the sea. Then he put his hands on the wall and leaned over it, fixing his eyes on the sea. The sense of injury grew in him.
The same military critic had mentioned a few paragraphs before that Delarey was being hard pressed by a column which was pursuing him under the command of Methuen. Methuen chased Delarey; and Delarey's activity was due to his being short of stores. Otherwise he would have stood quite still while he was chased.
It was like a game and like a duel, for Gaspare presently began almost to fight for supremacy as he watched Delarey's startling aptitude in the tarantella, which, till this moment, he had considered the possession of those born in Sicily and of Sicilian blood.
The capture of the Rhenosterfontein heights occurred at an opportune moment and perhaps averted a disaster. At Delarey's request Botha was on the point of sending reinforcements to the Boer right to enable it to drive away French and fall upon the weak British centre, when De Lisle's success vitally changed the situation.
Yet he could scarcely speak Gaspare's language, and knew nothing of his thoughts, his feelings, his hopes, his way of life. It was an odd sensation, a subtle sympathy not founded upon knowledge. It seemed to now into Delarey's heart out of the heart of the sun, to steal into it with the music of the "Pastorale." "I feel I feel almost as if I belonged here," he whispered to Hermione, at last.
In Sicily she actually loved and rejoiced in Delarey's mental shortcomings because they seemed to make for freshness, for boyishness, to link him more closely with the spring in their Eden. She adored in him something that was pagan, some spirit that seemed to shine on her from a dancing, playful, light-hearted world.
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