They fell into conversation. She
asked him about his family, his life, whether he would have to be a
soldier; whether he had a sweetheart. She forced herself to listen
attentively to his replies. He was a responsive boy and soon began to
talk volubly, letting the oars trail idly in the water. With energy he
paraded his joyous youth before her. Even in his touches of melancholy
there was hope. His happiness confirmed her in her resolution. She put
herself in contrast with this boy, and her heart sank below the sources
of tears into a dry place, like the valley of bones.
"Will you turn towards Casa Feli--towards the house now," she said
presently.
The boat swung round, and instantly the boy began to sing.
"Yes, I can do it to-night," she thought.
His happy singing entered like iron into her soul.
When the pale facade of Casa Felice was visible once more, detaching
itself from the surrounding darkness, she said to the boy carelessly:
"Where do you put the boat at night?"
"The signora has not seen?"
"No."
"Under the house. There is deep water there. One can swim for five
minutes without coming out into the open."
"I should like to see that place. Can I get out of the boat there?"
"Si, signora. There is a staircase leading into the piazza by the
waterfall."
"Then row in."
"Si, signora."
He was beginning to sing again, but suddenly he stopped, looked over his
shoulder and listened.
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