How different from an English boy's reticence was this frank confession! and yet what English boy was ever more manly than this mountain lad?
"Why—but then you saved the padrone's life! God bless you!"
Hermione had stopped, and she now put her hand on Gaspare's arm.
"Oh, signora, there were two of us. We had the boat."
"But"—another thought came to her—"but, Gaspare, after such a thing as that, how could you let the padrone go down to bathe alone?"
Gaspare, a moment before credited with a faithful action, was now to be blamed for a faithless one. For neither was he responsible, if strict truth were to be regarded. But he had insisted on saving his padrone from the sea when it was not necessary. And he knew his own faithfulness and was secretly proud of it, as a good woman knows and is proud of her honor. He had borne the praise therefore. But one thing he could not bear, and that was an imputation of faithlessness in his stewardship.
"It was not my fault, signora!" he cried, hotly. "I wanted to go. I begged to go, but the padrone would not let me."
"Why not?"
Hermione, peering in the darkness, thought she saw the ugly look come again into the boy's face.
"Why not, signora?"