ry of excitement
and determination.

"Signora!" he cried, staring as if ready to be offended.

Then he looked at Maurice, who was laughing, too, threw himself back
against the wall, opened his mouth, and joined in with all his heart. But
suddenly he stopped. His face changed, became very serious.

"I may go, signora?" he asked. "No one can fish as I can. The others will
not go in far, and they soon get cold and want to put on their clothes.
And the padrone! I must take care of the padrone! Guglielmo, the
contadino, will sleep in the house, I know. Shall I call him? Guglielmo!
Guglielmo!"

He vanished like a flash, they scarcely knew in what direction.

"He's alive!" exclaimed Maurice. "By Jove, he's alive, that boy!
Glorious, glorious life! Oh, there's something here that--"

He broke off, looked down at the broad sea shimmering in the sun, then
said:

"The sun, the sea, the music, the people, the liberty--it goes to my
head, it intoxicates me."

"You'll go to-night?" she said.

"D'you mind if I do?"

"Mind? No. I want you to go. I want you to revel in this happy time, this
splendid, innocent, golden time. And to-morrow we'll watch for you,
Lucrezia and I, watch for you down there on the path. But--you'll bring
us some of the fish, Maurice? You won't forget us?"

"Forget you!" he said. "You shall have all--"

"No, no. Only the little fish, the babies that Carmela rejects from the
frittura."

"I'll go into the sea with Gaspare," said Maurice.

"I'm sure you will, and farther out even than he does."

"Ah, he'll never allow that. He'd swim to Africa first!"

That night, at twenty-one o'clock, Hermione and Lucrezia stood under the
arch, and watched Maurice and Gaspare springing down the mountain-side as
if in seven-leagued boots. Soon they disappeared into the darkness of the
ravine, but for some time their loud voices could be heard singing
lustily:

"Ciao, ciao, ciao,
Morettina bella ciao,
Prima di partire
Un bacio ti voglio da';
Un bacio al papa,
Un bacio alla mamma,
Cinquanta alla mia fidanzata,
Che vado a far solda'."

"I wish I were a man, Lucrezia," said Hermione, when the voices at length
died away towards the sea.

"Signora, we were made for the men. They weren't made for us. But I like
being a girl."

"To-night. I know why, Luc