Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 16, 2025
A man passed him who sold melon seeds and aquavitæ, and Stefanone drank a glass of the one and bought a measure of the other. The Romans are fond of the taste of the tiny dry kernel which is found inside the broad white shell of the seed. Presently Lord Redin came out, wiping his mouth with his handkerchief, and went on.
Dalrymple uttered an exclamation of surprise and incredulity. "It is as I say," continued Stefanone. "They found him lying across the way, in the street, with knife-wounds in him, as many as you please." "That is horrible!" exclaimed Dalrymple, turning, and calmly trimming his lamp, which burned badly at first. "Then dress yourself, Signore!" said Stefanone, impatiently. "You must come!" "Why?
A 'ciociaro' is a hill-man who wears 'cioce, or rags, bound upon his feet with leathern sandals and thongs. He is generally a shepherd, and is held in contempt by the more respectable people of the larger mountain towns. To call a man a 'ciociaro' is a bitter insult. Stefanone in his anger had half risen from his seat.
It was Angus Dalrymple, returning from a botanizing expedition in the hills, after being absent all day. "That is a very uncomfortable way of fighting," he observed, as he stood still in the doorway. "You cannot hit a man across a table broader than your arm is long, Signor Stefano." The effect of his words was instantaneous. Stefanone fell back into his seat.
The man stood on the doorstep, with his umbrella hanging backward over his shoulder, and she could see his face distinctly, a typical Roman face with small aquiline features, keen dark eyes, a square jaw, and iron-grey hair. "Yes, Signora. Stefanone of Subiaco, wine merchant, to serve you. If you wish wine of Subiaco, ask for me at Piazza Montanara. Signora, it rains columns.
"Of course," admitted the doctor, "he is a Protestant. But then he has a passport. Let us therefore let him alone." The existence of the passport indispensable in those days was a strong argument in the eyes of the simple Stefanone. He could not conceive that a magician whose soul was sold to the devil could possibly have a passport and be under the protection of the law.
The common people never came there, because Stefanone did not sell his cheap wine at retail, but sent it all to Rome, or took it thither himself for the sake of getting a higher price for it.
And then pray, pray, sing, sing! It needs a chest! Poor lungs! I will go to my home and get ready blisters mustard a lancet they will not allow a barber in the convent to bleed them. Well I make myself the barber! What a life, what a life! If you wish to die young, be a doctor at Subiaco, Sor Angoscia. Good night, dear friend. Good night, Stefanone.
"For this, we are people of the mountains," he answered slowly. "We can walk." "Why do you wish to kill that signore?" inquired Griggs, calmly. Stefanone looked up, and the pale lids of his keen eyes were contracted as he stared hard and long at the other's face. "What are you saying?" he asked, with a short, harsh laugh. "What is passing through your head? What have I to do with the Englishman?
I also may say it once. It was he. He took our daughter. Stefanone went after them, but they had the beast of the convent gardener. It was a good beast, and they made it run. Stefanone heard of them all the way to the sea, but the twenty-four hours had passed, and the war-ship was far out. He could see it. Could he go to the war-ship? It had cannons. They would have killed him.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking