In the mean time, Lauretta had slipped into the boat, and seated herself, first pushing the jacket on one side without saying a word. The young fisherman let it be, and muttered something between his teeth. Then he pushed stoutly against the beach, and the little bark flew lightly out into the bay.
"What have you got in your bundle?" asked the padre, as they swept over the sea, just beginning to be freckled with the first sunbeams.
"Thread, silk, and a little loaf, padre, I am going to sell the silk to a woman in Capri, who makes ribbons, and the thread to another."
"Did you spin it yourself?"
"Yes, padre."
"If I remember rightly, you have learned to weave ribbons too?"
"Yes, padre, but my mother is so much worse, that I cannot leave her for long at a time; and we are too poor to buy a loom."
"Much worse! Dear, dear, when I saw her at Easter, she was sitting up."
"The spring is always the worst time for her. Since we had the great storm and the earthquake, she has been obliged to keep her bed from pain."
"Don't weary of prayers and supplications to the Holy Virgin, my child,--she alone can help her. And be good and industrious, that your prayers may be heard."