Bastianello of course carried the bag upstairs for Teresina, and Ruggiero stayed below.
He was very calm and quiet throughout that day, busying himself from time to time with some detail of the preparations for the evening's excursion, but sitting for the most part alone, far out on the breakwater where the breeze was blowing and the light surf breaking just high enough to wet his face from time to time with fine spray.

He had made up his mind, and he calmly thought over all that he meant to do, that it might be well done, quickly and surely, without bungling.
To-morrow, he would not be sitting out there, breathing in the keen salt air and listening to the music of the surging water, which was the only harmony he had ever loved.
His was a very faithful and simple nature, and since he had loved Beatrice, it had been even further simplified.

He thought only of her, he had but one object, which was to serve her, and all he did must tend to the attainment of that one result.

Now, too, he had seen with his eyes and had understood in other ways that she was to be married against her will to a man she hated and despised, and who was already betraying her.

He did not try to understand how it all was, but his instinct told him that she had been tricked into saying the words she had spoken to San Miniato at Tragara, and that she had never meant them.