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Only four days ago he gave me a bundle of cigars, and Vincentello he was always so cheery. Of course you've only done what you had to do, and indeed the shot was such a splendid one, nobody could regret it. But I, you see, had nothing to do with your vengeance. I know you're perfectly in the right. When one has an enemy one must get rid of him. But the Barricini were an old family.
"If my sister were to play me such tricks," said Vincentello, "I'd soon cure her fancy for beginning them again." The words, and the tone in which they were uttered, offended Orso, and diminished his good-will. Glances that were anything but friendly were exchanged between him and the two young men.
Just come over and look at Vincentello; he's kneeling here with his head against the wall, as if he were asleep. You may say he sleeps like lead, this time, poor devil." Orso turned his head in horror. "Are you certain he's dead?" "You're like Sampiero Corso, who never had to fire more than once. Look at it there, in his chest, on the left just where Vincileone was hit at Waterloo.
But Vincentello had his ready, and was rushing back into the room, when Colomba, snatching up a gun convinced him that the struggle must be unequal. At the same time the prefect threw himself between the combatants. "We shall soon meet, Ors' Anton'!" shouted Orlanduccio, and slamming the door of the room violently, he turned the key in the lock, so as to insure himself time to retreat.
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.
Well! there's one man who'll have a queer dessert to-day, and that's Lawyer Barricini! you want butcher's meat, do you? Well, here you have it. Now, who the devil will be the heir?" "What! is Vincentello dead too?" "Dead as mutton. Salute a noi! The good point about you is that you don't let them suffer.
As she could not read, however, she was unable to understand their meaning. Maddalena Pietri was going up to the village, when she met Barricini, the mayor, with his son Vincentello. It was then almost dark. She told them what she had seen. The mayor took the note-book, hurried up to his house, put on his sash, and fetched his secretary and the gendarmes.
He proved that he had spent his whole evening in the village, that his son Vincentello had been with him in front of the house at the moment when the crime was committed, and that his son Orlanduccio, who had had an attack of fever that very day, had never left his bed. He produced every gun in his house, and not one of them had been recently discharged.
There is Vincentello, who is a good-for-nothing fellow, and Orlanduccio, who is not much better. . . . Try to come on them separately, one to-day, the other to-morrow. . . . But be on the lookout, that's all I have to say to you!" "Thanks for the warning," said Orso. "But there is no quarrel between us. Until they come to look for me, I shall have nothing to say to them."
"The prefect will do his duty," said that gentleman sternly. "He will see the public order is not disturbed at Pietranera; he will take care justice is done. I say this to you all, gentlemen!" The mayor and Vincentello were outside the room already, and Orlanduccio was following them, stepping backward, when Orso said to him in an undertone: "Your father is an old man.
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