wrong to Maddalena.
His spirits were high, and he sang as he leaped down, agile as a goat, to
the sea. He meant to return as he had come, and at the water's edge he
stripped off his clothes once more, tied them into a bundle, plunged into
the sea, and struck out for the beach opposite. As he did so, as the
cold, bracing water seized him, he heard far above him the musical cry
of the siren of the night. He answered it with a loud, exultant call.

That was her farewell and his--this rustic Hero's good-bye to her
Leander.

When he reached the Caffe Berardi its door stood open, and a middle-aged
woman was looking out seaward. Beyond, by the caves, he saw figures
moving. His companions were awake. He hastened towards them. His morning
plunge in the sea had given him a wild appetite.

"Frittura! Frittura!" he shouted, taking off his hat and waving it.

Gaspare came running towards him.

"Where have you been, signorino?"

"For a walk along the shore."

He still kept his hat in his hand.

"Why, your face is all wet, and so is your hair."

"I washed them in the sea. Mangiamo! Mangiamo!"

"You did not sleep?"

Gaspare spoke curiously, regarded him with inquisitive, searching eyes.

"I couldn't. I'll sleep up there when we get home."

He pointed to the mountain. His eyes were dancing with gayety.

"The frittura, Gasparino, the frittura! And then the tarantella, and then
'O sole mio'!"

He looked towards the rising sun, and began to sing at the top of his
voice:

"O sole, o sole mio,
Sta 'n fronte a te,
Sta 'n fronte a te!"

Gaspare joined in lustily, and Carmela in the doorway of the Caffe
Berardi waved a frying-pan at them in time to the music.

"Per Dio, Gaspare!" exclaimed Maurice, as they raced towards the house,
each striving to be first there--"Per Dio, I never knew what life was
till I came to Sicily! I never knew what happiness was till this
morning!"

"The frittura! The frittura!" shouted Gaspare. "I'll be first!"

Neck and neck they reached the caffe as Nito poured the shining fish into
Madre Carmela's frying-pan.

VIII

"They are coming, signora, they are coming! Don't you hear them?"

Lucrezia was by the terrace wall looking over into the ravine. She could
not see any moving figures, but she heard far down among the olives and
the fruit trees Gaspare's voice singing "O sole mio!" and while she
listened another voice joined in, the voice of