The Call of the Blood - Page 275/317

She had stopped for a minute, and was just going to walk on, when she

heard a sound that, though faint and distant, was sharp and imperative.

It seemed to her to be a violent beating on wood, and it was followed by

the calling of a voice. She waited. The sound died away. She listened,

straining her ears. In this absolutely still night sound travelled far.

At first she had no idea from what direction came this noise which had

startled her. But almost immediately it was repeated, and she knew that

it must be some one striking violently and repeatedly upon wood--probably

a wooden door.

Then again the call rang out. This time she recognized, or thought she

recognized, Gaspare's voice raised angrily, fiercely, in a summons to

someone. She looked across the ebon water at the ebon mass of the trees

on its farther side, and realized swiftly that Gaspare must be there. He

had gone to the only house between the two bathing-places to ask if its

inhabitants had seen anything of the padrone.

This seemed to her to be a very natural and intelligent action, and she

waited eagerly and watched, hoping to see a light shine out as

Salvatore--yes, that had been the name told to her by Gaspare--as

Salvatore got up from sleep and came to open. He might know something,

know at least at what hour Maurice had left the sea.

Again came the knocking and the call, again--four, five times. Then there

was a long silence. Always the darkness reigned, unbroken by the

earth-bound star, the light she looked for. The silence began to seem to

her interminable. At first she thought that perhaps Gaspare was having a

colloquy with the owner of the house, was learning something of Maurice.

But presently she began to believe that there could be no one in the

house, and that he had realized this. If so, he would have to return

either to the road or the beach. She could see no boat moored to the

shore opposite. He would come by the wall of rock, then, unless he swam

the inlet. She went back a little way to a point from which dimly she saw

the wall, and waited there a few minutes. Surely it would be dangerous to

traverse that wall on such a dark night! Now, to her other fear was added

fear for Gaspare. If an accident were to happen to him! Suddenly she

hastened back to the path which led from the high-road along the spit of

cultivated land to the wall, turned from the road, traversed the spit,

and went down till she stood at the edge of the wall. She looked at the

black rock, the black sea that lay motionless far down on either side of

it. Surely Gaspare would not venture to come this way. It seemed to her

that to do so would mean death, or, if not that, a dangerous fall into

the sea--and probably there were rocks below, hidden under the surface of

the water. But Gaspare was daring. She knew that. He was as active as a

cat and did not know the meaning of fear for his own safety. He might-Out of the darkness on the land beyond the wall, something came, the form

of some one hurrying.