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Updated: May 5, 2025
We are all mad about it. And it won the first prize at last year's festa of Piedigrotta." "Comment donc?" exclaimed Artois, as if startled. "What? no yes. I like it. It's a capital song. Lemon? That's right and red pepper. Va bene!" And he bent over his plate rather hurriedly and began to eat. The piano-organ and the singing voice died away down the hill, going towards Mergellina.
To-day again the protective instinct was alive in him. It was that instinct which made him afraid, but it was also that instinct which kept him to his first intention, which pushed him on to Mergellina. No safety can be in ignorance for a strong man. He must know. Then he can act. When Artois reached Mergellina he looked about for Ruffo, but he could not see the boy.
The lodgings she had occupied since her arrival in Naples were situated on the Riviera di Chiaja, near the Villa Reale, and not far from the divergence into the Strada Mergellina.
Instead of living in a palace we shall take up our quarters in some poor little house over the sea, at Mergellina or Posilippo, with three rooms, a kitchen, and a pigsty at the back, and we shall eat macaroni and fried cuttle-fish every day, with an orange for dessert, and a drive in a curricolo on Sunday afternoons! How will that suit the delicate tastes of the Lady Ortensia Grimani?
Had she been asked to explain it she could not, perhaps, have done so. Presently, after a minute or two of hesitation, she went to the window that faced north, opened it, and stood by, listening. It was from the sea on this side that the fishermen who lived in the Mergellina, and in the town of Naples, came to the islet. It was from this direction that Ruffo had come three days ago.
"Or would it be less bother to row as far as Mergellina, and take a tram or carriage from there? "I can do that, Signora." He sounded a little more cheerful. "I think I'll write the note, Gaspare, then. And you might take it some time whenever you like. You might come and fetch it in five minutes." "Very well, Signora." He moved away and she went to her writing-table.
"They are canaglia," said Pasqualino, with the profound contempt of the Neapolitan coachman for those who get their living by the sea. He lived at Fuorigrotta, and thought Mergellina a place of outer darkness. "I like them," returned Artois. "You don't know them, Signore. I say they are canaglia. Where shall I drive you?"
And for a time she was not conscious where she was, and heard none of the noises round about her. It was the song of Mergellina, sung at some distance off in dialect, by a tenor voice to the accompaniment of a piano-organ. Hermione ceased from gazing at the drops on the glass, looked up, listened. The song came nearer.
With a quick movement the fellow was beside him on the other side of the wall. "I'll take your boat perhaps this evening." "At what hour, Signore?" "We'll see. But first perhaps you can tell me something." "What is it?" "You live here at Mergellina?" "Si, Signore." "Do you know any one called called Buonavista?" The eyes of Artois were fixed on the man's face. "Buonavista si, Signore." "You do?"
Then she looked him straight in the face and said: "To Mergellina." He met her eyes without flinching. His face was quite calm. "Shall I row you there, Signora?" "I meant to go to the village, and walk up and take the tram." "As you like, Signora. But I can easily row you there." "Aren't you tired after being out so early this morning?" "No, Signora." "Did you go far?" "Not so very far, Signora."
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