seeing the distance at which the boat lay, she did not have the courage to leap down, but fell back upon the deck. The other women had nearly all fainted, and were as dead.
“A boy!” shouted the sailors.
At that shout, the Sicilian lad and his companion, who had remained up to that moment petrified in a supernatural stupor, were suddenly aroused again by a violent instinct to save their lives. They left the mast, and rushed together to the side of the vessel, shrieking: “Take me!” and trying in turn, to drive the other back, like furious beasts.
“The smaller!” shouted the sailors. “The boat is overloaded! The smaller!”
On hearing these words, the girl dropped her arms, as though struck by lightning, and stood motionless, staring at Mario with lustreless eyes.
Mario looked at her for a moment,—saw the spot of blood on her bodice,—remembered. The gleam of a divine thought flashed across his face.
“The smaller!” shouted the sailors again impatiently. “We are going!”
And then Mario, with a voice which no longer seemed his own, cried: “She is the lighter! It is for you, Giulietta! You have a father and mother! I am alone! I give you my place! Go down!”
“Throw her into the sea!” shouted the sailors.
Mario seized Giulietta by the body, and threw her into the sea.
The girl uttered a cry and made a splash; a sailor Seized her by the arm, and dragged her into the boat.
