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Why, Emilio, even when I was in the sea, when
I was doing the seal, I could read the Signorina's character. She
showed me from the boat that she wanted me to come, that she wished to
know me. Ah, che simpatica! Che simpatica ragazza!"
The Marchesino looked once more at Ruffo.
"Come here a minute!" he said, in a low voice, not wishing to wake the
still sleeping fishermen.
The boy jumped lightly out and came to them. When he stood still the
Marchesino said, in his broadest Neapolitan:
"Now then, tell me the truth! I'm a Neapolitan, not a forestiere.
You've seen me for years at the Mergellina."
"Si, Signore."
"You're a Napolitano."
"No, Signore. I am a Sicilian."
There was a sound of pride in the boy's voice.
"I am quite sure he speaks the truth," Artois said, in French.
"Why do you come here?" asked the Marchesino.
"Signore, I come to fish."
"For cigarettes?"
"No, Signore, for sarde. Buona notte, Signore."
He turned away from them with decision, and went back to his boat.


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