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Updated: June 25, 2025
All the trust and candour and sweetness of his nature turned to gall. He listened, a sullen, savage darkness stealing over his countenance. "And our rights? Theirs? mine?" he said as Don Silverio paused. "For all rights taken away they will give legal compensation." "You dare repeat that, sir?" Don Silverio controlled his indignation with difficulty. "I dare do whatever I deem right to do.
Had he retained the coolness of reason the youth would have known and acknowledged that in the position of Don Silverio no other course would have been possible or decent. But reason had long left him, and inaction and impulse alone remained. He would not allow that a wrong might be condemned, and yet endured. To him all endurance had in it the meanness of condonation.
"Oh no; quite true. The matter is the sale of the land known under the title of the Terra Vergine." "Thank Heaven I am here, and not Adone," thought Don Silverio. Aloud he answered, "What sale? The proprietor has heard of none." "He must have heard. It can be no news to you that the works about to be made upon the river Edera will necessitate the purchase of the land known as the Terra Vergine."
Don Silverio read the letter twice, its stately and correct Latinity not serving to disguise the mean and harsh fact of its truly modern logic. "Because we are few and poor and weak we have no rights!" he said bitterly. "Because the water comes from others, and goes to others, it is not ours whilst in our land!" He did not blame his friend at San Beda.
Don Silverio made a low bow, and left him free to go to his awaiting councillors, who were already gathered round a long table covered by green cloth, in a vaulted and stately chamber, stories from Greek mythology carved on its oaken doors and stone cornices.
"Pray that your sons may deal otherwise with you when your turn shall come," said Don Silverio; and then he went through them, unmoved by their prayers and cries, and passed across the rough grass-land out of sight.
As regards yourself, Reverend Sir, I regret that you appear to forget that the chief duty of your sacred office is to inculcate to your flock unquestioning submission to Governmental decrees." "Is that your Excellency's last word?" "It is my first, and my last, word." Don Silverio bowed low. "You may regret it, sir," he said simply, and left the writing-table and crossed the room.
That which had been his sheet-anchor in all doubts and contrition, his faith in and his reverence for Don Silverio, availed him nothing now. A blind sympathy with his most violent instincts was the only thing which could now content or console him. He was in that state to which all counsels of moderation appear but so much treason and unkindness.
My dear friend, you are a woman of sense and foresight; try to see this thing as it is." "I will hear what Adone says, sir," replied Clelia Alba doggedly. "If he bids me burn the house, I shall burn it." Don Silverio was heart-sick and impatient. What use was it to argue with such minds as these? As well might he waste his words on the trunks of the olives, on the oxen in their stalls.
There had been nothing to use, nothing to eat, nothing to wear, and the rain and the snow and the wind had come in on them where they had lain huddled together on their bed of rotten leaves. Now and then she said something of that rude childhood of hers to Adone; she was afraid of the women, but not of him; she trotted after him as the little white curly dog Signorino trotted after Don Silverio.
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