after
him, sank down in the bottom of the boat, caught him by the arms, stared
into his face, saw him smiling.

"Sta bene Lei?" he cried. "Sta bene?"

"Benissimo."

The boy let go of him and, still staring at him, burst into a passion of
tears that seemed almost angry.

"Gaspare! What is it? What's the matter?"

He put out his hand to touch the boy's dripping clothes.

"What has happened?"

"Niente! Niente!" said Gaspare, between violent sobs. "Mamma mia! Mamma
mia!"

He threw himself down in the bottom of the boat and wept stormily,
without shame, without any attempt to check or conceal his emotion. As in
the tarantella he had given himself up utterly to joy, so now he gave
himself up utterly to something that seemed like despair. He cried
loudly. His whole body shook. The sea-water ran down from his matted hair
and mingled with the tears that rushed over his brown cheeks.

"What is it?" Maurice asked of Salvatore.

"He thought the sea had taken you, signore."

"That was it? Gaspare--"

"Let him alone. Per Dio, signore, you gave me a fright, too."

"I was only swimming under water."

He looked at Gaspare. He longed to do something to comfort him, but he
realized that such violence could not be checked by anything. It must
wear itself out.

"And he thought I was dead!"

"Per Dio! And if you had been!"

He wrinkled up his face and spat.

"What do you mean?"

"Has he got a knife on him?"

He threw out his hand towards Gaspare.

"I don't know to-day. He generally has."

"I should have had it in me by now," said Salvatore.

And he smiled at the weeping boy almost sweetly, as if he could have
found it in his heart to caress such a murderer.

"Row in to land," Maurice said.

He began to put on his clothes. Salvatore turned the boat round and they
drew near to the rocks. The vapors were lifting now, gathering themselves
up to reveal the blue of the sky, but the sea was still gray and
mysterious, and the land looked like a land in a dream. Presently Gaspare
put his fists to his eyes, lifted his head, and sat up. He looked at his
master gloomily, as if in rebuke, and under this glance Maurice began to
feel guilty, as if he had done something wrong in yielding to his strange
impulses in the sea.

"I was only swimming under water, Gaspare," he said, apologetically.

The boy said nothing.

"I know now," continued Maurice, "that I shall never come to any harm
with you to look after me."

Stil