"A-ah! A-ah!"
They set off, the fisherman walking on naked feet beside the donkey.
"Then we have to go down to the sea?"
"No, Signor Dottore. There were others on the road, Antonio and—"
"The rest of you going to the boats—I know. Well?"
"And the signora would have him carried up to Monte Amato."
"She could give directions?"
"Si, signore. She ordered everything. When she came out of the sea she was all wet, the poor signora, but she was calm. I called the others. When they saw the signore they all cried out. They knew him. Some of them had been to the fishing with him. Oh, they were sorry! They all began to speak and to try to—"
"Diavolo! They could only make things worse! If the breath of life was in the signore's body they would drive it out. Per Dio!"
"But the signora stopped them. She told them to be silent and to carry the signore up to the Casa del Prete. Signore, she—the povera signora—she took his head in her hands. She held his head and she never cried, not a tear!"