for she loved it. Perhaps that
night no words could have quite convinced her of his desperate honesty
of soul in that moment, perhaps no sound of his voice could have quite
convinced her. But the unconsciously cruel pressure of his hands upon
her convinced her absolutely. She felt as if it was his soul--the truth
of his soul--which was grasping her--which was closing upon her. And she
felt that only a thing that needed could grasp, could close like that.

And even in the midst of her chaos of misery and doubt she felt, she
knew, that it was herself that was needed.

"I will not forbid you to seek it," she said.

He sighed deeply. His hands dropped down from her. They stood for a
moment quite still. Then he said, in a low voice:

"You took the _fattura della morte_?"

"Yes," she answered. "It was in--in her room at Mergellina to-day."

"Have you got it still?"

"Yes."

She held out her right hand. He took the death-charm from her.

"She made it--the woman who wronged you made it to bring death into the
Casa del Mare."

"Not to me?"

"No, to Peppina. Has it not brought another death? Or, at least, does it
not typify another death to-night, the death of a great lie? I think it
does. I look upon it as a symbol. But--but--?"

He looked at her. He was at the huge doorway of the palace. The sea
murmured below him. Hermione understood and bent her head.

Then Artois threw the death-charm far away into the sea.

"Let me take you to the boat. 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. As she had trembled then, she began to tremble now. She
felt exhausted, that she could bear no more, that she must rest, be
guarded, cared for, protected, loved. The boat touched shore. Gaspare
leaped out. He cast an eager, fiery look of scrutiny on his Padrona. She
returned it. Then, suddenly, he seized her hand, bent down and kissed
it.

She trembled more. He lifted his head, stared at her again. Then he
took her up in his strong arms, as if she were a child, and carried her
gently and carefully to the stern of the boat.

"Lei si riposi!" he whispered, as he set her down.

She shut her eyes, leaning back agai