"I don't know—but I think I can guess," was the answer whose light-hearted yet earnest frankness was particularly boyish and provoked a smile on the part of the older man. In repose his face was grave. His English interlocutor went on after a pause. "You deserted from your ship to join a hermit in a wilderness simply because the tone of his voice appealed to your heart. Is that your meaning?"
"You have guessed it, signorino. Perhaps there was more in it than that. There is no doubt about it that I did desert from my ship."
"And where was that?"
"On the coast of South America," answered the man from the other side of the big gun, with sudden curtness. "And now it is time for us to part."
But neither of them stirred and for some time they remained silent, growing shadowy to each other on the massive tower, which itself, in the advancing night, was but a gray shadow above the dark and motionless sea.
"How long did you stay with that hermit in the desert?" asked Cosmo. "And how did you leave him?"
"Signore, it was he who left me. After I had buried his body I had nothing more to do there. I had learned much during that year."
"What is it you learned, my friend? I should like to know."
"Signore, his wisdom was not like that of other men and it would be too long to explain to you here on this tower and at this late hour of the day. I learned many things. How to be patient, for instance. . . . Don't you think, signore, that your friends or the servants at the inn may become uneasy at your long absence?"
"I tell you I haven't been much more than two hours in this town and I have spoken to nobody in it till I came upon you, except of course to the people at the inn."