"Yes. Are you not coming with me to the auction? It will be better for you to be there to choose the things."
For an instant Maurice felt irritated. Was he never to be allowed a moment alone with Maddalena?
"Oh, but I'm no good at——" he began.
Then he stopped. To-day he must be birbante—on his guard. Once the auction was in full swing—so he thought—Salvatore and Gaspare would be as they were when they gambled beside the sea. They would forget everything. It would be easy to escape. But till that moment came he must be cautious.
"Of course I'll come," he exclaimed, heartily. "But you must do the bidding, Gaspare."
The boy looked less sullen.
"Va bene, signorino. I shall know best what the things are worth. And Salvatore"—he glanced viciously at the fisherman—"can go to the donkeys. I have seen them. They are poor donkeys this year."
Salvatore returned his vicious glance and said something in dialect which Maurice did not understand. Gaspare's face flushed, and he was about to burst into an angry reply when Maurice touched his arm.
"Come along, Gaspare!"
As they got up, he whispered: