Father Elia was the head man of the company of blind singers, who always collected there. He had long white hair and beard, and was beautiful as one of the holy patriarchs. He, like all the others, went forward to Father Succi. He sat down beside him, and leaned his head against the coffin. Donna Elisa went up to Father Elia and spoke to him. “Father Elia,” she said, “_you_ ought to go to the syndic.” The old man recognized Donna Elisa’s voice, and he answered her, in his thick, old-man’s tones:-- “Do you suppose that I have waited to have you say that to me? Don’t you know that my first thought was to go to the syndic?” He spoke with such a hard and distinct voice that the workmen stopped hammering and listened, thinking some one had begun to preach. “I told him that we blind singers are a company, and that the Jesuits opened their church for us more than three hundred years ago, and gave us the right to gather here to select new members and try new songs. “And I said to him that there are thirty of us in the company; and that the holy Lucia is our patroness; and that we never sing in the streets, only in courts and in rooms; and that we sing legends of the saints and mourning-songs, but never a wanton song; and that the Jesuit, Father Succi, opened the church for us, because the blind are Our Lord’s singers. “I told him that some of us are _recitatori_, who can sing the old songs, but others are _trovatori_, who compose new ones. I said to him that we give pleasure to many on the noble isle. I asked him why he wished to deprive us of life. For the homeless cannot live. “I said to him that we wander from town to town through all Etna, but the church of Lucia is our home, and mass is held here for us every morning. Why should he refuse us the comfort of God’s word? “I told him that the Jesuits once changed their attitude towards us and wished to drive us away from their church, but they did not succeed. We received a letter from the Viceroy that we might hold our meetings in perpetuity in Santa Lucia in Gesù. And I showed him the letter.” “What did he answer?” “He laughed at me.” “Can none of the other gentlemen help you?” “I have been to them, Donna Elisa. All the morning I have been sent from Herod to Pilatus.” “Father Elia,” said Donna Elisa with lowered voice, “have you forgotten to call on the saints?” “I have called on both the black Madonna and San Sebastiano and Santa Lucia. I have prayed to as many as I could name.” “Do you think, Father Elia,” said Donna Elisa, and lowered her voice still more, “that Don Antonio Greco was helped, because he promised money to Donna Micaela’s railway?” “I have no money to give,” said the old man, disconsolately.