There was a loud report close to them, a whizzing noise, a deep murmur
from the crowd, and in the clear sky above Etna the first rocket burst,
showering down a cataract of golden stars, which streamed towards the
earth, leaving trails of fire behind them.
The sound of the grinding organ and of the shepherd boy's flute ceased in
the dancing-room, and the crowd within rushed out into the market-place.
"Signorino! Signorino! Come with me! We cannot see properly here! I know
where to go. There will be wheels of fire, and masses of flowers, and a
picture of the Regina Margherita. Presto! Presto!"
Gaspare had hold of Maurice by the arm.
"E' finito!" Maurice murmured.
It seemed to him that the last day of his wild youth was at an end.
"E' finito!" he repeated.
But there was still an hour.
And who can tell what an hour will bring forth?