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Updated: September 7, 2025
The dead creature's comrades rose and fled with astonishing swiftness, and though another herdsman fired at them they reached a thicket and disappeared into it, safe and sound. "Idiots!" cried Orso. "You've been taking pigs for wild boars!" "Not a bit, Ors' Anton'," replied Polo Griffo. "But that herd belongs to the lawyer, and I've taught him, now, to mutilate our horses."
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!
There'll be talk about that gun, Ors' Anton'!" "Evvviva Ors' Anton'!" chorused the herdsmen. "We were sure you'd come back, at last!" "Ah! Ors' Anton'!" cried a tall fellow, with a skin tanned brick red. "How happy your father would be, if he were here to welcome you! The dear, good man!
"Yesterday, on the contrary, I was more cheery and happy than I generally am. I had seen how kind, how indulgent, you were to my sister. The colonel and I were coming home in a boat. Do you know what one of the boatmen said to me in his infernal patois? 'You've killed a deal of game, Ors' Anton', but you'll find Orlanduccio Barricini a better shot than you!"
"Yes, I do reckon on you. But at this moment I need no help, and no personal danger threatens me. Now face round at once, and be off with you to your goats. I know my way to Pietranera, and I want no guides." "Fear nothing, Ors' Anton'," said the old man. "They would never dare to show their noses to-day. The mouse runs back to its hole when the tom-cat comes out!"
"Just as I told you," one old man went on. "Ors' Anton' has lived too much on the mainland to carry things through like a man of mettle." "Yet," responded a Rebbianite, "you may notice it is the Barricini who have gone across to him. They are suing for mercy." "It's the prefect who had wheedled them all round," answered the old fellow.
That's what people learn on the mainland, Memmo!" "Yes, and if any one finds out it was you who killed that pig there'll be a suit against you, and Ors' Anton' won't speak to the judges, nor buy off the lawyer for you. Luckily nobody saw, and you have Saint Nega to help you out."
The man had caught the horse, but he had dropped both saddle and bridle, and seemed quite paralyzed with horror, while the horse, remembering the wound it had received during the night, and trembling for its other ear, was rearing, kicking, and neighing like twenty fiends. "Now then! Make haste!" shouted Orso. "Ho, Ors' Anton'! Ho, Ors' Anton'!" yelled the herdsman.
"Tom-cat yourself, old gray-beard!" said Orso. "What's your name?" "What! don't you remember me, Ors' Anton'? I who have so often taken you up behind me on that biting mule of mine! You don't remember Polo Griffo? I'm an honest fellow, though, and with the della Rebbia, body and soul.
"With her fortune, you might buy the Falsetta woods, and the vineyards below ours. I would build a fine stone house, and add a story to the old tower in which Sambucuccio killed so many Moors in the days of Count Henry, il bel Missere." "Colomba, you're talking nonsense," said Orso, cantering forward. "You are a man, Ors' Anton', and of course you know what you ought to do better than any woman.
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