The Call of the Blood Part 34

He had caught sight of her among the olive-trees watching them, with her two hands held flat against her breast.

"Addio, Maddalena!"

The girl started, waved her hand, drew back, and disappeared.

"I'm glad she saw us."

Gaspare laughed, but said nothing. They put on their boots and stockings, and started briskly off towards Monte Amato. When they had crossed the road, and gained the winding path that led eventually into the ravine, Maurice said:

"Well, Gaspare?"

"Well, signorino?"

"Have you forgiven me?"

"It is not for a servant to forgive his padrone, signorino," said the boy, but rather proudly.

Maurice feared that his sense of injury was returning, and continued, hastily:

"It was like this, Gaspare. When you and Lucrezia had gone I felt so dull all alone, and I thought, 'every one is singing and dancing and laughing except me.'"

"But I asked you to accompany us, signorino," Gaspare exclaimed, reproachfully.

"Yes, I know, but--"

"But you thought we did not want you. Well, then, you do not know us!"

"Now, Gaspare, don't be angry again. 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."

Gaspare laughed; not rudely, but as a boy laughs who is sure he knows the world from the outer sh.e.l.l to inner kernel.

"Oh, signore, why did you go down to the sea instead of coming to the festa?"

Maurice did not answer at once. He was asking himself Gaspare's question.

Why had he gone to the Sirens' Isle? Gaspare continued:

"May I say what I think, signore? You know I am Sicilian, and I know the Sicilians."

"What is it?"

"Strangers should be careful what they do in my country."

"Madonna! You call me a stranger?"

It was Maurice's turn to be angry. He spoke with sudden heat. The idea that he was a stranger--a straniero--in Sicily seemed to him ridiculous--almost offensive.

"Well, signore, you have only been here a little while. I was born here and have never been anywhere else."

"It is true. Go on then."

"The men of Sicily are not like the English or the Germans. They are jealous of their women. I have been told that in your country, on festa days, if a man likes a girl and she likes him he can take her for a walk.

Is it true?"

"Quite true."

"He cannot walk with her here. He cannot even walk with her down the street of Marechiaro alone. It would be a shame."

"But there is no harm in it."

"Who knows? It is not our custom. We walk with our friends and the girls walk with their friends. If Salvatore, the father of Maddalena, knew--"

He did not finish his sentence, but, with sudden and startling violence, made the gesture of drawing out a knife and thrusting it upward into the body of an adversary. Maurice stopped on the path. He felt as if he had seen a murder.

"Ecco!" said Gaspare, calmly, dropping his hand, and staring into Maurice's face with his enormous eyes, which never fell before the gaze of another.

"But--but--I mean no harm to Maddalena."

"It does not matter."

"But she did not tell me. She is ready to talk with me."

"She is a silly girl. She is flattered to see a stranger. She does not think. Girls never think."

He spoke with utter contempt:

"Have you seen Salvatore, signore?"

"No--yes."

"You have seen him?"

"Not to speak to. When I came down the cottage was shut up. I waited--"

"You hid, signore?"

Maurice's face flushed. An angry word rose to his lips, but he checked it and laughed, remembering that he had to deal with a boy, and that Gaspare was devoted to him.

"Well, I waited among the trees--birbante!"