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Updated: June 24, 2025
The evenness, the simplicity, the loneliness of Adone's existence, made it open to impressions, and absorbed by them, as busy and changeful lives never are; it was like the heather plants around them, it would not bear transplanting; its birthplace would be its tomb. "Let us go back to your mother," he said. "Why should you shun her? What you feel she feels also. Why leave her alone?"
In a second of time the priest had leaped through the water to his side, seized the adder, and killed it. "Good boy," he said to the child. "If you had moved your foot the creature would have bitten you." Adone's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you, sir; thank you for mother," he said very gently, for he was a shy child, though courageous. The priest stroked his curls.
"Can you manage them, little one?" "Oh, yes; they love me." "Go then; but take care." "She is a good child!" said Gianna. "The beasts won't hurt her. They know their friends." Clelia Alba, to whom her own and her son's dignity was dear, said nothing of her own displeasure and surprise at Adone's absence. But she was only the more distressed by it.
So the child remained there; but her presence troubled Adone's mother, though Nerina was humble as a homeless dog, was noiseless and seldom seen, was obedient, agile, and became useful in many manners, and learned with equal eagerness the farm work taught her by Gianna, and the doctrine taught her by Don Silverio, for she was intelligent and willing in every way.
He told me he went to a meeting of men at the Three Pines, at what they call the Tomb of the Barbarian." Don Silverio was silent. "It is very grave," he said at last. "Aye, sir, grave indeed," said Gianna. "Would that it were love between them, sir. Love is sweet and wholesome and kind, but there is no such thing in Adone's heart. There it is only, alas!
Adone's ruddy cheeks grew pale as he glanced over it; he thrust it into the soil and drove his spade through it. The old man waiting, in hopes to get a draught of wine, looked at him in dismay. "Is that a way to treat their Honours' commands?" he said aghast.
She stood by Adone's side, knitting her brows under her auburn curling locks, clenching her hands. "Is there one who does this evil most of all?" she said at length. "One we could reach?" "You are a brave child, Nerina!" said Adone, and his words made her proud. "I fear there is a crowd. Such men are like locusts; they come in swarms. But the first man who touches the water "
The night seemed long to her in the lone stone entrance, with the owls hooting round the house, and the winds blowing loud and tearing the tiles from the roof. Above, in her chamber, Adone's mother walked to and fro all night sleepless. Gianna before it was dawn went out in the hope that she might meet Adone on his return, and be able to speak to him before he could see his mother.
Go to your chamber, Sior' Clelia, and entreat Heaven to soften your heart. There is sorrow enough in store for you without your creating misery out of suspicion and unbelief. This house will not long be either yours or Adone's." He left the kitchen and went out into the air; Clelia Alba was too proud, too dogged, in her obstinancy to endeavour to detain him or to ask him what he meant.
Her face was stern and dark. Nernia did not answer; her gay courage forsook her; she trembled. "Why?" asked Adone's mother. "I was going out," answered the child. Her voice shook. She was clothed as usual in the daytime, but she had over her head a woollen wrapper. She had not her musket, for she kept it in the hen-house, and was accustomed to take it as she passed that place. "Going out!
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