Crazy Radio eBooks

What would it be to-night? Her heart cried out for a crescendo. Within
her, at that moment, was a desire like the motorist's for speed. More!
more! More wind! More sea! More uproar from the elements!
And San Francesco all alone in this terrific blackness! Had he not
been dashed from his pedestal by the waves? Was the light at his feet
still burning?
"Il Santo!" she said to Gaspare.
He bent his head till it was close to her lips.
"Il Santo! What has become of him, Gaspare?"
"He will be there, Signorina."
So Gaspare, too, held to the belief of the seamen of the Bay. He had
confidence in the obedience of the sea, this sea that roared around
them like a tyrant. Suddenly she had no doubt. It would be so. The
saint would be untouched. The light would still be burning. She looked
for it. And now she remembered her mother. She must tell her mother
directly she saw it. But all was blackness still.
And the launch seemed weary, like a live thing whose strength is
ebbing, who strains and pants and struggles gallantly, not losing
heart but losing physical force.


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