The Children of the King | Page 9

never seen a Christian before?" he inquired in a deep gruff
voice.
He did not seem to be in a good humour. The boys drew back

somewhat in awe, and sat down to rest on the stones by the wall. Still
Antonino's eyes followed them, though he did not move. Sebastiano
looked up at him uneasily from time to time, but Ruggiero gazed
steadily at the sea with the affectation of proud indifference to scrutiny,
which is becoming in a boy of twelve years. At last the old man stirred,
turned slowly as on a pivot and went into the shop.
"Is it not better to speak to him?" asked Sebastiano of his brother in a
whisper.
"No. He is deaf. If he did not understand us he would be angry and
would give us no bread."
Presently Don Antonino came out again. He held half a loaf and a big
slab of goat's-milk cheese between his huge thumb and finger. He
paused exactly on the spot where he had stood so long, and seemed
about to become absorbed in the contemplation of the empty fishing
boats lying in the sun. Sebastiano watched him with hungry eyes, but
Ruggiero again stared at the sea. After several minutes the old
boatswain got under way again and came to them, holding out the food
to them both.
"Eat," he said laconically.
They both jumped up and thanked him, and pulled at their ragged caps
before they took the bread and cheese from his hand. He nodded
gravely, which was his way of explaining that he could not hear but
that it was all right, and then he watched them as they set to work.
"Like wolves," he said solemnly, as he looked on.
The place was quite deserted at that hour. Only now and then a woman
passed, with an earthen jar of water on her head and her little tin bucket
and rope in her hand. The public well is not fifty yards from Antonino's
house, up the brook and on the left of it. The breeze was dying away
and it was very hot, though the sun was already behind the high rocks
of the cape.

"Where are the beasts?" asked Don Antonino, as the boys swallowed
their last mouthful.
Ruggiero threw his head back and stuck out his chin, which signifies
negation in the south. He knew it was of little use to speak unless he
could get near the old man's ear and shout.
"And what are you doing here?" asked the latter.
Speech was now unavoidable. Ruggiero stood on tiptoe and the old
man bent over sideways, much as a heavily laden Dutch galliot heels to
a stiff breeze.
"The mother is dead!" bawled the boy in his high strong voice.
Oddly enough the tears came into his eyes for the first time, as he
shouted at the deaf old man, and at the same moment little Sebastiano's
lower lip trembled. Antonino shook his head in rough sympathy.
"We have also beaten Don Pietro Casale, and so we have run away,"
yelled the boy.
Antonino grunted thoughtfully and his grey eyes twinkled as he slowly
righted himself and stood up again. Very deliberately he went into the
shop again and presently came back with a big measure of weak wine
and water.
"Drink," he said, holding out the jug.
Again the two boys pulled at their caps and each raised the jug
respectfully toward the old man before drinking.
"To health," each said, and Antonino nodded gravely.
Then Ruggiero took the jug inside and rinsed it, as he knew it was his
duty to do and set it on the table. When he came back he stood beside
his brother, waiting for Don Antonino to speak. A long silence
followed.

"Sleep," said the old man. "Afterwards we will talk."
He took his old place in the doorway and stared steadily out to sea. The
boys lay down beside the house and having eaten and drunk their fill
and walked a matter of fifteen miles, were sound asleep in three
minutes.
At sunset Ruggiero sat up suddenly and rubbed his eyes. Don Antonino
was no longer at the door, and the sound of several men's voices came
from within, mingled with the occasional dull rattle of coarse glasses
on wooden tables.
"O!" Ruggiero called softly to his brother. Then he added a syllable and
called again, "O-e!" Little Sebastiano woke, sat up and looked about
him, rubbing his eyes in his turn.
"What has happened?" he inquired, only half awake.
"By the grace of God we have eaten, we have drunk and we have
slept," said Ruggiero by way of answer.
Both got up, shook themselves and stood with their hands in their
pockets, looking at the sea. They were barefooted