And he smiled at the weeping boy almost sweetly, as if he could have found it in his heart to caress such a murderer.
"Row in to land," Maurice said.
He began to put on his clothes. Salvatore turned the boat round and they drew near to the rocks. The vapors were lifting now, gathering themselves up to reveal the blue of the sky, but the sea was still gray and mysterious, and the land looked like a land in a dream. Presently Gaspare put his fists to his eyes, lifted his head, and sat up. He looked at his master gloomily, as if in rebuke, and under this glance Maurice began to feel guilty, as if he had done something wrong in yielding to his strange impulses in the sea.
"I was only swimming under water, Gaspare," he said, apologetically.
The boy said nothing.
"I know now," continued Maurice, "that I shall never come to any harm with you to look after me."
Still Gaspare said nothing. He sat there on the floor of the boat with his dripping clothes clinging to his body, staring before him as if he were too deeply immersed in gloomy thoughts to hear what was being said to him.
"Gaspare!" Maurice exclaimed, moved by a sudden impulse. "Do you think you would be very unhappy away from your 'paese'?"
Gaspare shifted forward suddenly. A light gleamed in his eyes.
"D'you think you could be happy with me in England?"