"Where are we going, signorino? Are we going back to the town?"
Instinctively, Maurice was following in the direction taken by Gaspare.
He wanted to meet fate half-way, to still, by action, the tumult of
feeling within him.
"Aren't the best things to be bought there?" he replied. "By the church
where all those booths are? I think so."
Maddalena began to walk a little faster. The moment had come. Already she
felt the blue dress rustling about her limbs, the ear-rings swinging in
her ears.
Maurice did not try to hold her back. Nor did it occur to him that it
would be wise to meet Hermione without Maddalena. He had done no actual
wrong, and the pale face of Artois had made him defiant. Hermione came to
him with her friend. He would come to her with his. He did not think of
Maddalena as a weapon exactly, but he did feel as if, without her, he
would be at a disadvantage when he and Hermione met.
They were in the first street now. People were beginning to flow back
from the watercourse towards the centre of the fair. They walked in a
crowd and could not see far before them. But Maurice thought he would
know when Hermione was near him, that he would feel her approach. The
crowd went on slowly, retarding them, but at last they were near to the
church of Sant' Onofrio and could hear the sound of music. The
"Intermezzo" from "Cavalleria Rusticana" was being played by the Musica
Mascagni. Suddenly, Maurice started. He had felt a pull at his arm.
"Signorino! Signorino!"
Gaspare was by his side, streaming with perspiration and looking
violently excited.
"Gaspare!"
He stopped, cast a swift look round. Gaspare was alone.
"Signorino"--the boy was breathing hard--"the signora"--he gulped--"the
signora has come back."
The time had come for acting. Maurice feigned surprise.
"The signora! What are you saying? The signora is in Africa."
"No, signore! She is here!"
"Here in San Felice!"
"No, signore! But she was in the train. I saw her at the window. She
waved her hand to me and called out--when the train was on the bridge. I
ran to the station; I ran fast, but when I got there the train had just
gone. The signora has come back, and we are not there to meet her!"
His eyes were tragic. Evidently he felt that their absence was a matter
of immense importance, was a catastrophe.