at did they know of the various truths of the world? How should
one in Clapham judge one at the fair of San Felice? Avanti! Avanti!
Avanti along the blinding white road by the sea, to the village on which
great Etna looked down, not harshly for all its majesty. Nature
understood. And God, who made Nature, who was behind Nature--did not He
understand? There is forgiveness surely in great hearts, though the small
hearts have no space to hold it.

Something like this Maurice thought for a moment, ere a large
thoughtlessness swept over him, bred of the sun and the odors, the
movement, the cries and laughter of his companions, the gay gown and the
happy glances of Maddalena, even of the white dust that whirled up from
the feet of the cantering donkeys.

And so, ever laughing, ever joking, gayly, almost tumultuously, they
rushed upon the fair.

San Felice is a large village in the plain at the foot of Etna. It lies
near the sea between Catania and Messina, but beyond the black and
forbidding lava land. Its patron saint, Protettore di San Felice, is
Sant' Onofrio, and this was his festival. In the large, old church in the
square, which was the centre of the life of the fiera, his image,
smothered in paint, sumptuously decorated with red and gold and bunches
of artificial flowers, was exposed under a canopy with pillars; and thin
squares of paper reproducing its formal charms--the oval face with large
eyes and small, straight nose, the ample forehead, crowned with hair that
was brought down to a point in the centre, the undulating, divided beard
descending upon the breast, one hand holding a book, the other upraised
in a blessing--were sold for a soldo to all who would buy them.

The first thing the party from Isola Bella and from Marechiaro did, when
they had stabled their donkeys at Don Leontini's, in the Via Bocca di
Leone, was to pay the visit of etiquette to Sant' Onofrio. Their laughter
was stilled at the church doorway, through which women and men draped in
shawls, lads and little children, were coming and going. Their faces
assumed expressions of superstitious reverence and devotion. And, going
up one by one to the large image of the saint, they contemplated it with
awe, touched its hand or the hem of its robe, made the sign of the cross,
and retreated, feeling that they were blessed for the day.

Maddalena approached the saint with Maurice and Gaspare. She and Gaspare
touched the hand that held the book, made the s