train jerked back, jangled, crept forward once more, this time a
little faster. In a moment they would begone. Thank God! But what was
Hermione doing? She started. She leaned further forward, staring into
the watercourse. Maurice saw her face changing. A look of intense
surprise, of intense inquiry, came into it. She took one hand swiftly
from the door, put it behind her--ah, she had a pair of opera-glasses at
her eyes now! The train went on faster. It was nearly off the bridge. But
she was waving her hand. She was calling. She had seen Gaspare. And he?
Maurice saw him start forward as if to run to the bridge. But the train
was gone. The boy stopped, hesitated, then dashed away across the stones.

"Signorino! Signorino!"

Maurice said nothing.

"Signorino!" repeated Maddalena. "Look at Gaspare! Is he mad? Look! How
he is running!"

Gaspare reached the bank, darted up it, and disappeared into the village.

"Signorino, what is the matter?"

Maddalena pulled his sleeve. She was looking almost alarmed.

"Matter? Nothing."

Maurice got up. He could not remain still. It was all over now. The fair
was at an end for him. Gaspare would reach the station before the train
went on, would explain matters. Hermione would get out. Already Maurice
seemed to see her coming down to the watercourse, walking with her
characteristic slow vigor. It did not occur to him at first that Hermione
might refuse to leave Artois. Something in him knew that she was coming.
Fate had interfered now imperiously. Once he had cheated fate. That was
when he came to the fair despite Hermione's letter. Now fate was going to
have her revenge upon him. He looked at Maddalena. Was fate working for
her, to protect her? Would his loss be her gain? He did not know, for he
did not know what would have been the course of his own conduct if fate
had not interfered. He had been trifling, letting the current take him.
It might have taken him far, but--now Hermione was coming. It was all
over and the sun was still up, still shining upon the sea.

"Let us go into the fair. It is cooler now."

He tried to speak lightly.

"Si, signore."

Maddalena shook out her skirt and began to smile. She was thinking of the
blue dress and the ear-rings. They went down into the watercourse.

"Signorino, what can have been the matter with Gaspare?"

"I don't know."

"He was looking at the train."

"Was he? Perhaps he saw a friend in it. Yes, that must have been it. He
s