The boy remained at the vessel's side, with his head held high, his hair streaming in the wind,—motionless, tranquil, sublime.
The boat moved off just in time to escape the whirlpool made by the vessel as it sank, and which threatened to overturn it.
Then the girl, who had been stunned until that moment, raised her eyes to the boy, and burst into a storm of tears.
“Good-bye, Mario!” she cried, amid her sobs, with her arms outstretched towards him. “Good-bye! Good-bye! Good-bye!”
“Good-bye!” replied the boy, raising his hand.
The boat went swiftly away across the troubled sea, beneath the dark sky. No one on board the vessel shouted any longer. The water was lapping the edge of the deck.
Suddenly the boy fell on his knees, with his hands folded and his eyes raised to heaven.
The girl covered her face.
When she raised it again, she cast a glance over the sea.
The vessel was gone.
