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The day after to-morrow, somewhere about eleven o'clock, I shall come and ask you to let me taste that mountain bruccio of yours, which you say is so vastly superior to what we get in the town. "Farewell, dear Signorina Colomba. "Your affectionate "Then she hasn't received my second letter!" exclaimed Orso.
We will send you a message when we start for your mountains, and I shall take the liberty of writing to Signorina Colomba to ask her to give me a bruccio, ma solenne! Meanwhile, give her my love. I use her dagger a great deal to cut the leaves of a novel I brought with me. But the doughty steel revolts against such usage, and tears my book for me, after a most pitiful fashion. Farewell, sir!
One would have imagined that he meant to stop us going farther along the road. "Here, Bruccio, Bruccio!" cried my guide; then, leaning towards me, he said: "That's Quastana's dog. A ferocious animal. He has no equal for keeping watch." Turning to the dog again, he called out: "That's all right, old fellow! Do you take us for policemen?"
Ah! if the prefect hadn't thrown himself in front of Vincentello, we should have had one less to deal with." All this was said with the same calm air as that with which she had spoken, an instant previously, of her preparations for making the bruccio. Orso, quite dumfounded, gazed at his sister with an admiration not unmixed with alarm.
"What horse will you ride to-morrow, Ors' Anton'?" "The black. Why do you ask?" "So as to make sure he has some barley." When Orso went up to his room, Colomba sent Saveria and the herdsmen to their beds, and sat on alone in the kitchen, where the bruccio was simmering. Now and then she seemed to listen, and was apparently waiting very anxiously for her brother to go to bed.
The very last night I slept in her room she told me she would be sorry to leave Corsica without having seen a good vendetta. If you choose, Orso, you might let her see an assault on our enemies' house." "Do you know, Colomba," said Orso, "Nature blundered when she made you a woman. You'd have made a first-rate soldier." "Maybe. Anyhow, I'm going to make my bruccio." "Don't waste your time.
Between two and three hours passed in this way, and I had some difficulty in keeping awake in the stuffy air of the hut and the long stretches of silence broken only by an occasional exclamation: "Seventeen!" "Eighteen!" From time to time I was aroused by a heavy gust of wind, or a dispute between the players. Suddenly there was a savage bark from Bruccio, like a cry of alarm.
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