She gave him a smile over her shoulder, and she pushed her way upward through the chestnut boughs, carrying the Gesu folded to her bosom. Watching her thus depart, a sudden and new terror struck him. 'Wait,' he called to her. 'Will the priest be angered that I disturbed the graves, think you?' 'Nay, nay, not when he sees that you give him the image,' she called backward in answer. Then she disappeared in the green haze of foliage, and Caris struck onward in the opposite direction, to take the way which led to his cabin on Genistrello. Her words had awakened him to a consciousness of his bruised, befouled, and tattered state. He wished to avoid meeting anyone who might question him as to his condition. He got as quickly as he could by solitary paths to his home, and was met with rapture by his dog. He entered the house, and drank thirstily; he could not eat; he washed in the tank at the back of the hut, and clothed himself in the best that he had: what he wore on holy and on festal days. Then he set his house-door wide open to the gay morning light which, green and gleeful, poured through the trunks of the chestnuts and pines; and he sat down on his threshold with the dog at his feet, and waited. It would be a whole working-day lost, but what of that? A lover may well lose a day's pay for love's crown of joy. Hour after hour passed by, and his eyes strained and ached with looking into the green light of the woods. But Santina came not. The forenoon, and noontide and afternoon went by; and still no living thing came up to his solitary house. The whole day wore away, and he saw no one, heard nothing, had no visitant except the black stoat which flitted across the path, and the grey thrushes which flew by on their autumn flights towards lower ground. The long, fragrant, empty day crept slowly by, and at last ended. She had not come. He was still fasting. He drank thirstily, but he could not eat, though he fed the dog. He was in a state of nervous excitation almost delirious. The trees and the hills and the sky seemed to whirl around him. He dared not leave the hut, lest she should come thither in his absence. He stared till he was sightless along the green path which led down to the four roads. Now and then, stupidly, uselessly, he shouted aloud; and the mountains echoed his solitary voice. The dog knew that something was wrong with his master, and was pained and afraid. The evening fell. The night wore away. He put a little lamp in his doorway, thinking she might come, through shyness, after dark; but no one came. Of her there was no sign, or from her any word. When the day came he was still dressed and sleepless, seated before his door; the flame of the little lamp burnt on, garish and yellow in the sunshine. The sun mounted to the zenith; it was again noon. He went indoors, and took a great knife which he was accustomed to carry with him to Maremma. He put it in his belt inside his breeches, so that it was invisible.