hunted me out and brought me here in time.'
'Did he do that?'
She coloured with pain and vexation; she could not bear to think she owed so much to him.
'Ay, that did he,' said the woman of the Apennines. 'To my thinking, but for him those brutes would have caged you for half your life and more. It would be well if you could care for him; he has a good heart and loves the ground you tread on. I know not what the other one is, nor where; but for sure he left you alone in your trouble and your adversity, and merits nothing.'
She paused, frightened at the look of the eyes which silenced her without any need of speech.
'Go you by the boats,' Musa said curtly. 'For me be not afraid; I know my way home. I thank you for all you have done, and when you want shelter or food come to me. But, if ever you dare speak to me of the Sicilian again, I will not see you ever any more.'
The shepherd's wife shrank away humbly, and went back to the sea-wall, where boats were always coming and going.
