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On the height, Delarey paused for a moment, as if to look at the wide view, dim and ethereal, under the dying moon. "Is that Calabria?" he asked. "Si, signore. And there is the caffè. The caves are beyond it. You cannot see them from here. But you are not looking, signorino!"
He had cried out, and his friend had heard and had answered. And Delarey had been left alone with the sun. "I'm afraid you must feel as if I were your enemy," he said. And as he spoke he was thinking, "Have I been this man's enemy?" "Oh no. Why?" "I deprived you of your wife. You've been all alone here." "I made friends of the Sicilians."
Kemp, however, had returned to the Zwartruggens. After the Vlakfontein affair he found columns approaching him from all sides and dissolved his command. Delarey had gone south, and was now in the Orange River Colony.
Delarey could not understand much of what she said, but he caught the words mare and pescatore, and by her gestures knew that she was telling him she had been on the rocks and had seen his mishap.
At Belmont a body of Free Staters under Jacob Prinsloo was found strongly posted on the heights east of the line, and although reinforced by Delarey from Kimberley, it was unable to hold to its positions, and was compelled to retreat eastwards on November 23.
The next three weeks were occupied in the pursuit of Delarey by two columns under Shekleton and Babington, at first in directions which he had not taken. They started westward from Ventersdorp, not conceiving it possible that, after the repulse at Lichtenburg, he would have the audacity to throw himself across their left front in an attempt to reach Klerksdorp.
It struck both Hermione and Delarey as almost monstrous that anybody with whom they were connected should be feeling coldly unhappy at this moment. Life presented itself to them in a glorious radiance of sunshine, in a passionate light, in a torrent of color.
He got up, put his pipe into a case, and the case into his pocket, and said: "Hermione, if the analyst may have a word " "Yes now." "Don't let Monsieur Delarey, whatever his character, see now, or in the future, the dirty little beggar staring at the angel. I use your own preposterously inflated phrase. Men can't stand certain things and remain true to the good in their characters.
Her mother's face had fallen. "New York!" Ella murmured. "There is wonderful music there, and Mr. Delarey knows it so well." Lord Ashleigh nodded portentously. "I have not finished yet. Mr. Delarey wound up his letter by promising to cable me his final decision in the course of a few days.
As soon as he realized that, Artois closed his window. He could not look with the curious on that procession. He went back into his sitting-room, which faced the sea. But he felt the procession going past, and was enveloped in the black wonder of death. That he should be alive and Delarey dead! How extraordinary that was!
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