He held a glass full of wine to Delarey's lips. Delarey drank.
"But you've got a man's voice, Gaspare!" he said, putting down the glass
and beginning to get into his clothes.
"Per Dio! Would you have me squeak like a woman, signore?"
Delarey laughed and said no more. But he knew it was not Gaspare's voice
he had heard.
The net was drawn up now for the last time, and as soon as Delarey had
dressed they set out to walk to the caves on the farther side of the
rocks, where they meant to sleep till Carmela was about and ready to make
the frittura. To reach them they had to clamber up from the beach to the
Messina road, mount a hill, and descend to the Caffè Berardi, a small,
isolated shanty which stood close to the sea, and was used in summer-time
by bathers who wanted refreshment. Nito and the rest walked on in front,
and Delarey followed a few paces behind with Gaspare. When they reached
the summit of the hill a great sweep of open sea was disclosed to their
view, stretching away to the Straits of Messina, and bounded in the far
distance by the vague outlines of the Calabrian Mountains. Here the wind
met them more sharply, and below them on the pebbles by the caffè they
could see the foam of breaking waves. But to the right, and nearer to
them, the sea was still as an inland pool, guarded by the tree-covered
hump of land on which stood the house of the sirens. This hump, which
would have been an islet but for the narrow wall of sheer rock which
joined it to the main-land, ran out into the sea parallel to the road.
On the height, Delarey paused for a moment, as if to look at the wide
view, dim and ethereal, under the dying moon.
"Is that Calabria?" he asked.
"Si, signore. And there is the caffè. The caves are beyond it. You cannot
see them from here. But you are not looking, signorino!"
The boy's quick eyes had noticed that Delarey was glancing towards the
tangle of trees, among which was visible a small section of the gray wall
of the house of the sirens.
"How calm the sea is there!" Delarey said, swiftly.
"Si, signore. That is where you can see the light in the window from our
terrace."
"There's no light now."
"How should there be? They are asleep. Andiamo?"
They followed the others, who were now out of sight. When they reached
the caves, Nito and the boys had already flung themselves down upon the
sand and were sleeping. Gaspare scooped out a hollow for Delarey, rolled
up his jacket as a pillow for his padrone's head, murmured a "Buon
riposo!" lay down near him, buried his face in his arms, and almost
directly began to breathe with a regularity that told its tale of
youthful, happy slumber.