"Magari!" she said again.

He did not know what the word meant, but he thought it sounded like the
most complete expression of satisfaction he had ever heard.

"I wish," he said, pressing her hand--"I wish I were a Sicilian of
Marechiaro."

At this moment, while he was speaking, he heard in the distance the
shrill whistle of an engine. It ceased. Then it rose again, piercing,
prolonged, fierce surely with inquiry. He put his hands to his ears.

"How beastly that is!" he exclaimed.

He hated it, not only for itself, but for the knowledge it sharply
recalled to his mind, the knowledge of exactly what he was doing, and of
the facts of his life, the facts that the very near future held.

"Why do they do that?" he added, with intense irritation.

"Because of the bridge, signorino. They want to know if they can come
upon the bridge. Look! There is the man waving a flag. Now they can come.
It is the train from Palermo."

"Palermo!" he said, sharply.

"Si, signore."

"But the train from Palermo comes the other way, by Messina!"

"Si, signore. But there are two, one by Messina and one by Catania.
Ecco!"

From the lemon groves came the rattle of the approaching train.

"But--but----"

He caught at his watch, pulled it out.

Five o'clock!

He had taken his hand from Maddalena's, and now he made a movement as if
to get up. But he did not get up. Instead, he pressed back against the
olive-tree, upon whose trunk he was leaning, as if he wished to force
himself into the gnarled wood of it. He had an instinct to hide. The
train came on very slowly. During the two or three minutes that elapsed
before it was in his view Maurice lived very rapidly. He felt sure that
Hermione and Artois were in the train. Hermione had said that they would
arrive at Cattaro at five-thirty. She had not said which way they were
coming. Maurice had assumed that they would come from Messina because
Hermione had gone away by that route. It was a natural error. But now? If
they were at the carriage window! If they saw him! And surely they must
see him. The olive-trees were close to the line and on a level with it.
He could not get away. If he got up he would be more easily seen.
Hermione would call out to him. If he pretended not to hear she might,
she probably would, get out of the train at the San Felice station and
come into the fair. She was impulsive. It was just the sort of thing she
might do. She would do it. He was sure she would do