ghed.

"Si Signore. Marias and Maddalenas--you find them everywhere. Why, my
own mamma is Maddalena, and my wife is Maria, and so is my sister."

"Exactly. And your name? I want it, so that when next I take a boat here
I can ask for yours."

"Fabiano, Signore, Lari Fabiano, and my boat is the _Stella del Mare_."

"Thank you, Fabiano."

Artois put a lira into his hand.

"I shall take the _Star of the Sea_ very soon."

"This evening, Signore; it will be fine for sailing this evening."

"If not this evening, another day. A rivederci, Fabiano."

"A rivederci, Signore. Buon passeggio."

The man went back to his companions, and, as Artois walked on began
talking eagerly to them, and pointing after the stranger.

Artois did not know what he would do later on in the evening, but he
had decided on the immediate future. He would walk up the hill to the
village of Posilipo, then turn down to the left, past the entrance to
the Villa Rosebery, and go to the Antico Giuseppone, where he could
dine by the waterside. It was quiet there, he knew; and he could have a
cutlet and a zampaglione, a cup of coffee and a cigar, and sit and watch
the night fall. And when it had fallen? Well, he would not be far from
the island, nor very far from Naples, and he could decide then what to
do.

He followed out this plan, and arrived at the Giuseppone at evening. As
he came down the road between the big buildings near the waterside he
saw in the distance a small group of boys and men lounging by the three
or four boats that lie at the quay, and feared to find, perhaps, a
bustle and noise of people round the corner at the ristorante. But when
he turned the corner and came to the little tables that were set out
in the open air, he was glad to see only two men who were bending over
their plates of fish soup. He glanced at them, almost without noticing
them, so preoccupied was he with his thoughts, sat down at an adjoining
table and ordered his simple meal. While it was being got ready he
looked out over the sea.

The two men near him conversed occasionally in low voices. He paid no
heed to them. Only when he had dined slowly and was sipping his black
coffee did they attract his attention. He heard one of them say to the
other in French:

"What am I to do? It would be terrible for me! How am I to prevent it
from happening?"

His companion replied:

"I thought you had been wandering all the winter in the desert."

"I have. What has th