Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 21, 2025
So they parted Trenta with Enrica descending flight after flight of steps, leading from terrace to terrace, down to the villa; Nobili mounting upward to the forest with Fra Pacifico toward Corellia, to await the marchesa's answer. Fra Pacifico, with Adamo and Pipa, had labored ever since-daybreak to arrange the rooms at the villa before the marchesa rose.
"I must go now to Corellia. I will return soon. That Enrica still lives is full of hope." Fra Pacifico said this, turning toward the little bed with its modest shroud of white linen curtains. "But I can do nothing. The feeble spark of life that still lingers in her frame would fly forever if tormented by remedies. I have hope in God only." And he gave a heavy sigh.
Pipa curtsied in silence, and closed the marchesa's door. Midnight had struck from the church-clock at Corellia. The strokes seemed to come slower by night than day, and sounded hollower. Hours ago the last light had gone out. The moon had set behind the cleft summits of La Pagna. Distant thunder had died away among the rocks. The night was close and still.
Alas! alas! what a pasticcio! made by herself made by herself and her lawsuits about the defunct Guinigi damn them!" It was seldom that the cavaliere used bad words excuse him. The road from Lucca to Corellia lies at the foot of lofty mountains, over-mantled by chestnut-forests, and cleft asunder by the river Serchio the broad, willful Serchio, sprung from the flanks of virgin fastnesses.
Adamo and Fra Pacifico stand upon the lower rungs, to steady it. The stranger throws his cloak below, the better to descend. "Who is he?" That strong, well-knit frame, those square shoulders, that curly chestnut hair, the pleasant smile upon his glowing face, proclaim him. It is Count Nobili! He has lands along the Serchio, between Barga and Corellia, and was well known as a keen sportsman.
"My niece has a headache; leave her alone," answers the marchesa, curtly. "Do not speak to her, Mr. Sindaco. She will visit Corellia another day; meanwhile, adieu." The marchesa waves her hand majestically, and signs for him to retire. This the sindaco does with an inward groan at the thought of what is coming on him.
His strength and daring were acknowledged by all the mountain-folks from Corellia to Barga, hardy fellows, and judges of what a man can do. Moreover, Fra Pacifico was more than six feet high and who does not respect a man of such inches? In fair fight he had killed his man a brigand chief who prowled about the mountains toward Carrara. His band had fled and never returned.
"What! a new difficulty? When will this torture end?" "It will end to-morrow morning, Count Nobili. To-morrow morning I shall have the honor of waiting upon you, in company with the Mayor of Corellia, for the civil marriage. Every requisition of the law will then have been complied with." Maestro Guglielmi bows and moves toward the door.
The olives bore a little last season, but Corellia is a cold place too cold for olives; the trees, too, are very old. This year there will be no crop at all. As for the grapes " "Accidente to the grapes!" interrupts the marchesa, reddening. "The grapes always fail. Every thing fails under you." Silvestro shrinks back in terror at the sound of her harsh voice.
"I shall not perform the ceremony," answered Fra Pacifico, his full, deep voice ringing through the room, "at your bidding only. Enrica must also consent. Enrica must consent in my presence." As the light of the lamp struck upon Fra Pacifico, the lines about his mouth deepened, and that look of courage and of command the people of Corellia knew so well was marked upon his countenance.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking