with his thumb, he
stared down at the depths below, transparent here almost to the sea
bed. His eyes were wide with reverie. He seemed another boy, not the
gay singer of five minutes ago. But then he had been in the blaze of the
sun. Now he was in the shade. And swiftly he had caught the influence of
the dimmer light, the lack of motion, the delicate hush at the feet of
San Francesco.

This time he did not know that he was being watched. His reverie,
perhaps, was too deep, or their gaze less concentrated than it had been
before. And after a moment, Hermione moved away.

"You are going in, Madre?"

"Yes."

"Do you mind if I give something to that boy?"

"Do you mean money?"

"Oh no. But the poor thing's eating dry bread, and--"

"And what, you puss?"

"Well, he's a very obedient boy."

"How can you know that?"

"He was idling in the boat, and I called out to him to jump into the
sea, and he jumped in immediately."

"Do you think because he heard you?"

"Certainly I do."

"You conceited little creature! Perhaps he was only pleasing himself!"

"No, Madre, no. I think I should like to give him a little reward
presently--for his singing too."

"Get him a dolce, then, from Carmela, if there is one. And you can give
him some cigarettes."

"I will. He'll love that. Oh dear! I wish he didn't make me dissatisfied
with myself!"

"Nonsense, Vere!"

Hermione bent down and kissed her child. Then she went rather quickly
away from the pavilion and entered the Casa del Mare.

CHAPTER II

After her mother had gone, Vere waited for a moment, then ran lightly to
the house, possessed herself of a dolce and a packet of cigarettes, and
went down the steps to the Pool of San Francesco, full of hospitable
intentions towards the singing boy. She found him still sitting astride
of the boat's prow, not yet free of his reverie apparently; for when
she gave a low call of "Pescator!" prolonging the last syllable with the
emphasis and the accent of Naples, but always softly, he started, and
nearly dropped into the sea the piece of bread he was lifting to his
mouth. Recovering himself in time to save the bread deftly with one
brown hand, he turned half round, leaning on his left arm, and stared at
Vere with large, inquiring eyes. She stood by the steps and beckoned to
him, lifting up the packet of cigarettes, then pointing to his sleeping
companions:

"Come here for a minute!"

The boy smiled, sprang up, and leaped