t seems to me you have done it with admirable thoroughness," said
Artois.

"Grazie, Signor Barone, grazie!"

"Grazie, grazie, Signor Barone!" added the Cancelliere.

"Grazie, Signor Barone!" said the deep voice of the Maresciallo.

The authorities now slowly prepared to take their departure.

"You are coming with us, Signor Barone?" said the Pretore.

Artois was about to say yes, when he saw pass across the aperture of the
doorway of the cottage the figure of a girl with bent head. It
disappeared immediately.

"That must be Maddalena!" he thought.

"Scusi, signore," he said, "but I have been seriously ill. The ride down
here has tired me, and I should be glad to rest for a few minutes longer,
if--" He looked at Salvatore.

"I will fetch a chair for the signore!" said the fisherman, quickly.

He did not know what this stranger wanted, but he felt instinctively that
it was nothing that would be harmful to him.

The Pretore and his companions, after polite inquiries as to the illness
of Artois, took their leave with many salutations. Only Gaspare remained
on the edge of the plateau staring at the sea. As Salvatore went to fetch
the chair Artois went over to the boy.

"Gaspare!" he said.

"Si!" said the boy.

"I want you to go up with the Pretore. Go to the signora. Tell her the
inquiry is finished. It will relieve her to know."

"You will come with me, signore?"

"No."

The boy turned and looked him full in the face.

"Why do you stay?"

For a moment Artois did not speak. He was considering rapidly what to
say, how to treat Gaspare. He was now sure that there had been a tragedy,
with which the people of the sirens' house were, somehow, connected. He
was sure that Gaspare either knew or suspected what had happened, yet
meant to conceal his knowledge despite his obvious hatred for the
fisherman. Was the boy's reason for this strange caution, this strange
secretiveness, akin to his--Artois's--desire? Was the boy trying to
protect his padrona or the memory of his padrone? Artois wondered. Then
he said:

"Gaspare, I shall only stay a few minutes. We must have no gossip that
can get to the padrona's ears. We understand each other, I think, you and
I. We want the same thing. Men can keep silence, but girls talk. I wish
to see Maddalena for a minute."

"Ma--"

Gaspare stared at him almost fiercely. But something in the face of
Artois inspired him with confidence. Suddenly his reserve disappeared. He
p