his eyes, he gave a deep short sigh, he muttered a deadly oath; then he retraced his steps and went back to the harbour where, in the shallow salt water, the lateen craft in which he had come hither was lying moored, the sun on its one white sail. In another moment he had leaped into the boat and cast her loose.
There was wind blowing, a hot wind straight from the east, and full of sand.
He set the boat's head towards far Sardinia, lying hidden in the pallid clouds of heat.
A little way out of the town, as she reached the shade of the pine-woods that lined the shore, the woman Pomfilia overtook her.
'Let me go with you,' she cried. 'You are not well enough to go alone; let me go with you. My husband and the sheep are on the moors; I could go by the boats, but I would rather walk with you.'
'You are kind to think of it,' said Musa; 'but I would sooner be alone.'
'Ah, you have had a rude time,' sighed the shepherd's wife, 'and never might I have heard of it but for that good Sicilian skipper who came up upon my hills at home and
