, and presently the strong red light of their
fire shot up through the shadows, lending new contrasts to the scene.
And there they slung their kettle on an oar and patiently waited for the
water to boil, while the man known as the Gull, always cook in every
crew in which he chanced to find himself, sat with the salt on one side
of him and a big bundle of macaroni on the other, prepared to begin
operations at any moment.

Ruggiero stood a little apart, his back against a boulder, his arms
crossed and his eyes fixed on Beatrice's face. His keen sight could
distinguish the changing play of her expression as readily at that
distance as though he had been standing beside her, and he tried to
catch the words she spoke, listening with a sort of hurt envy to the
little silvery laugh that now and then echoed across the open space and
lost itself in the crannies of the rocks. It all hurt him, and yet for
nothing in the world would he have turned away or shut his ears. More
than once, too, the thoughts that had disturbed him while he was
steering in the afternoon, came upon him with renewed and startling
strength. He had in him some of that red old blood that does not stop
for trifles such as life and death when the hour of passion burns, and
the brain reels with overmastering love.

And Bastianello was not in a much better case, though his was less hard
to bear. The pretty Teresina had seated herself on a smooth rock in the
moonlight, not far from the table, and as the dishes came back, the
young sailor waited on her and served her with unrelaxed attention.
Since Ruggiero would not take advantage of the situation, his brother
saw no reason for not at least enjoying the pleasure of seeing the
adorable Teresina eat and drink as it were from his hand. Why Ruggiero
was so cold, and stood there against his rock, silent and glowering,
Bastianello could not at all understand; nor had he any thought of
taking an unfair advantage. Ruggiero was first and no one should
interfere with him, or his love; but Bastianello, judging from what he
felt himself, fancied that she might have given him some good advice.
Teresina's cheeks flushed with pleasure and her eyes sparkled each time
he brought her some dainty from the master's table, and she thanked him
in the prettiest way imaginable, so that her voice reminded him of the
singing of the yellow-beaked blackbird he kept in a cage at home--which
was saying much, for the blackbird sang well and sw