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And Maddalena? She would be there. His heart sickened. He was ready to face a man but not Maddalena. He thought of Gaspare's story of the fallen olive-branch upon which Salvatore had spat. It was strange to be here in this calm place with these two happy people, wife and friend, and to wonder what was waiting for him down there by the sea. How lonely our souls are! something like that he thought.
Nevertheless, access to the village was possible by the strip of rocks beneath it. Had Hermione gone to the village by the rocks? If she had, Gaspare's keen eyes would surely have seen her. Artois looked at the blank wall of the palace. This extended a little way, then turned at right angles. Just beyond the angle, in its shadow, there was a low and narrow doorway.
Let me take you back to the island." She did not answer him. But when he moved she followed him, till they came to the rocks and saw floating on the dim water the two white boats. "Gaspare!" "Vengo!" That cry what did it recall to Hermione? Gaspare's cry from the inlet beneath the Isle of the Sirens when he was bringing the body of Maurice from the sea.
When he had gone Hermione told herself that she was glad he was away. If he had been on the island she might have been tempted to take one of the boats, to ask him to row her to the Scoglio that evening. But now, of course, she would not go. It was true that she could easily get a boatman from the village on the mainland near by, but without Gaspare's companionship she would not care to go.
And with each toast the wine went down till Maurice called a halt. "I am a real Sicilian," he said. "But if I drink any more I shall be under the table. Get out the cards, Salvatore. Sette e mezzo, and I'll put down the stakes. No one to go above twenty-five centesimi, with fifty for the doubling. Gaspare's sure to win. He always does. And I've just one cigar apiece. There's no wind.
But as they saw Gaspare's light figure leaping over the hill edge, his dancing eyes fixed shrewdly, with a sort of boyish scolding, upon them, their hands fell apart, their faces relaxed. "Gasparino!" said Maurice. "It was you who called!" "Si, signore." He came up to them. Maddalena's oval face had flushed, and she dropped the full lids over her black eyes as she said: "Buon giorno, Gaspare."
"It would have been better if he had never come!" "Hermione," he said, "has it come to this, that I must defend Gaspare to you?" "I think Gaspare might have kept with Vere, ought to have kept with Vere." Artois felt a burning desire to make Hermione understand the Sicilian, but he only said, gently: "Some day, perhaps, you will know Gaspare's character better, you will understand all this."
It must be something surely in connection with his anxiety. Her mind worked rapidly. Maurice the sea bathing Gaspare's fear Maurice and Gaspare had bathed together often while she had been in Africa. "Gaspare," she said. "Walk beside me I wish it." He came up reluctantly. "You've bathed with the padrone lately?" "Si, signora." "Many times?" "Si, signora."
Sorrow had made her feel cold. "Mamma mia!" she began. But Gaspare's sharp eyes had spied the key lying on the window-sill. He darted to it and picked it up. Then he stared at the locked door and at Lucrezia. "But where is the padrone?" he said. "Oh, I know! He locked the door on the inside and then put the key out of the window. But why is the bedroom window shut? He always sleeps with it open!"
Remember that the padrona has gone away and that I depend on you for everything." At the last words Gaspare's face, which had been lowering, brightened up a little. But he was not yet entirely appeased. "You have Maddalena," he said. "She is only a girl." "Oh, girls are very nice." "Don't be ridiculous, Gaspare. I hardly know Maddalena."
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