The Call of the Blood - Page 308/317

"Grazie."

Artois sat down. He was very tired, but he scarcely knew it. The

fisherman stood by him, looking at him with a sort of shifty expectation,

and Artois, as he noticed the hard Arab type of the man's face, the

glitter of the small, cunning eyes, the nervous alertness of the thin,

sensitive hands, understood a great deal about Salvatore. He knew Arabs

well. He had slept under their tents, had seen them in joy and in anger,

had witnessed scenes displaying fully their innate carelessness of human

life. This fisherman was almost as much Arab as Sicilian. The blend

scarcely made for gentleness. If such a man were wronged, he would be

quick and subtle in revenge. Nothing would stay him. But had Maurice

wronged him? Artois meant to assume knowledge and to act upon his

assumption. His instinct advised him that in doing so he would be doing

the best thing possible for the protection of Hermione.

"Can you make much money here?" he said, sharply yet carelessly.

The fisherman moved as if startled.

"Signore!"

"They tell me Sicily's a poor land for the poor. Isn't that so?"

Salvatore recovered himself.

"Si, signore, si, signore, one earns nothing. It is a hard life, Per

Dio!"

He stopped and stared hard at the stranger with his hands on his hips.

His eyes, his whole expression and attitude said, "What are you up to?"

"America is the country for a sharp-witted man to make his fortune in,"

said Artois, returning his gaze.

"Si, signore. Many go from here. I know many who are working in America.

But one must have money to pay the ticket."

"Yes. This terreno belongs to you?"

"Only the bit where the house stands, signore. And it is all rocks. It is

no use to any one. And in winter the winds come over it. Why, it would

take years of work to turn it into anything. And I am not a contadino.

Once I had a wine-shop, but I am a man of the sea."

"But you are a man with sharp wits. I should think you would do well in

America. Others do, and why not you?"

They looked at each other hard for a full minute. Then Salvatore said,

slowly: "Signore, I will tell you the truth. It is the truth. I would swear it

with sea-water on my lips. If I had the money I would go to America. I

would take the first ship."

"And your daughter, Maddalena? You couldn't leave her behind you?"