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Updated: June 19, 2025
What do I care if I am taken? But take away Miss Lydia. For God's sake, don't let anybody see her here!" "I won't leave you," said Brandolaccio, who had come up on Colomba's heels. "The sergeant in charge is the lawyer's godson. He'll shoot you instead of arresting you, and then he'll say he didn't do it on purpose." Orso tried to rise; he even took a few steps. But he soon halted.
Then off he started again, tearing up the slope almost as fast as he had come down it, to meet a man, who, in spite of its steepness, was rapidly descending. "Help, Brando!" shouted Orso, as soon as he thought he was within hearing. "Hallo! Ors' Anton'! are you wounded?" inquired Brandolaccio, as he ran up panting. "Is it in your body or your limbs?" "In the arm." "The arm oh, that's nothing!
But before he moved away he had slipped the money into he bandit's wallet, unperceived by him. "Good-bye, Ors' Anton'," quoth the theologian. "We shall meet again in the maquis, some day, perhaps, and then we'll continue our study of Virgil." Quite a quarter of an hour after Orso had parted company with these worthies, he heard a man running after him, as fast as he could go. It was Brandolaccio.
"If I talk French, 'tis because, look you, maxima debetur pueris reverentia! We have made up our minds, Brandolaccio and I, that the little girl shall turn out well, and go straight." "When she is turned fifteen," remarked Chilina's uncle, "I'll find a good husband for her. I have one in my eye already." "Shall you make the proposal yourself?" said Orso. "Of course!
This was our old acquaintance Brusco, who recognised Colomba at once and undertook to be her guide. After many windings through the narrow paths in the maquis they were met by two men, armed to the teeth. "Is that you, Brandolaccio?" inquired Colomba. "Where is my brother?" "Just over there," replied the bandit. "But go quietly. He's asleep, and for the first time since his accident.
But Colomba heard it all unmoved. Only she twisted her damask napkin till it seemed as if she must tear it in pieces. She interrupted the child, five or six times over, to make her repeat again that Brandolaccio had said the wound was not dangerous, and that he had seen many worse.
The bandit stuck his tongue in his cheek, and smacked it ironically, but he made no reply. Orso got up to go away. "By the way," said Brandolaccio, "I haven't thanked you for your powder. It came just when I needed it. Now I have everything I want . . . at least I do still want shoes . . . but I'll make myself a pair out of the skin of a moufflon one of these days."
"If I were a rogue," continued Brandolaccio, "a blackguard, a forger, I should only have to hold my wallet open, and the five-franc pieces would rain into it." "Then is there something inside your wallet that attracts them?" said Orso. "Nothing. But if I were to write to a rich man, as some people have written, 'I want a hundred francs, he would lose no time about sending them to me.
You who have studied projectiles, tell me whether you think that idea is truth or fiction?" Orso infinitely preferred discussing this question of physics to arguing with the licentiate as to the morality of his action. Brandolaccio, who did not find their scientific disquisition entertaining, interrupted it with the remark that the sun was just going to set.
They had walked, or rather run, some five hundred paces in this fashion when Brandolaccio vowed he could go no further, and dropped on the ground, regardless of all Colomba's exhortations and reproaches. "Where is Miss Nevil?" was Orso's one inquiry.
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