hy was that?" asked Lucrezia, with reverence.

"They told her in Marechiaro that it was not safe for a lady to live up
here alone, that when the night came no one could tell what would
happen."

"But, Gaspare--"

"Does Gaspare know every grotto on Etna? Has Gaspare lived eight years
with the briganti? And the Mafia--has Gaspare--"

He paused, laughed, pulled his mustache, and added:

"If the signora had not been assured of my protection she would never
have come up here."

"But now she has a husband."

"Yes."

He glanced again round the room.

"One can see that. Per Dio, it is like the snow on the top of Etna."

Lucrezia got up actively from the floor and came close to Sebastiano.

"What is the padrona like, Sebastiano?" she asked. "I have seen her, but
I have never spoken to her."

"She is simpatica--she will do you no harm."

"And is she generous?"

"Ready to give soldi to every one who is in trouble. But if you once
deceive her she will never look at you again."

"Then I will not deceive her," said Lucrezia, knitting her brows.

"Better not. She is not like us. She thinks to tell a lie is a sin
against the Madonna, I believe."

"But then what will the padrone do?" asked Lucrezia, innocently.

"Tell his woman the truth, like all husbands," replied Sebastiano, with a
broadly satirical grin. "As your man will some day, Lucrezia mia. All
husbands are good and faithful. Don't you know that?"

"Macche!"

She laughed loudly, with an incredulity quite free from bitterness.

"Men are not like us," she added. "They tell us whatever they please, and
do always whatever they like. We must sit in the doorway and keep our
back to the street for fear a man should smile at us, and they can stay
out all night, and come back in the morning, and say they've been fishing
at Isola Bella, or sleeping out to guard the vines, and we've got to say,
'Si, Salvatore!' or 'Si, Guido!' when we know very well--"

"What, Lucrezia?"

She looked into his twinkling eyes and reddened slightly, sticking out
her under lip.

"I'm not going to tell you."

"You have no business to know."

"And how can I help--they're coming!"

Sebastiano's dog had barked again on the terrace. Sebastiano lifted the
ceramalla quickly from the window-sill and turned round, while Lucrezia
darted out through the door, across the sitting-room, and out onto the
terrace.

"Are they there, Sebastiano? Are they there?"

He stood by the terrace wa