LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

behind the largest trunk for cover, and to fire at the least sign of hostility. His wife walked close behind him holding her reloaded gun and her cartridges. It was the duty of a good housewife, in case of a conflict, to reload her husband's arms.

      On his side, the adjutant was very uneasy at the sight of Mateo advancing thus upon them with measured steps, his gun pointed and finger on trigger.

      "If it happens that Gianetto is related to Mateo," thought he, "or he is his friend, and he means to protect him, two of his bullets will be put into two of us as sure as a letter goes to the post, and he will aim at me in spite of our kinship! … "

      In this perplexity, he put on a bold face and went forward alone towards Mateo to tell him what had happened, greeting him like an old acquaintance. But the brief interval which separated him from Mateo seemed to him of terribly long duration.

      "Hullo! Ah! my old comrade," he called out. "How are you, old fellow? I am your cousin Gamba."

      Mateo did not say a word, but stood still; and while the other was speaking, he softly raised the muzzle of his rifle in such a manner that by the time the adjutant came up to him it was pointing sky-wards.

      "Good day, brother,"[5] said the adjutant, holding out his hand. "It is a very long time since I saw you."

      "Good day, brother."

      "I just called in when passing to say 'good day' to you and cousin Pepa. We have done a long tramp to-day; but we must not complain of fatigue, for we have taken a fine catch. We have got hold of Gianetto Sanpiero."

      "Thank Heaven!" exclaimed Giuseppa. "He stole one of our milch goats last week."

      Gamba rejoiced at these words.

      "Poor devil!" said Mateo, "he was hungry."

      "The fellow fought like a lion," continued the adjutant, slightly nettled. "He killed one of the men, and, not content to stop there, he broke Corporal Chardon's arm; but that is not of much consequence, for he is only a Frenchman. … Then he hid himself so cleverly that the devil could not have found him. If it had not been for my little cousin Fortunato, I should never have discovered him."

      "Fortunato?" cried Mateo.

      "Fortunato?" repeated Giuseppa.

      "Yes; Gianetto was concealed in your haycock there, but my little cousin showed me his trick. I will speak of him to his uncle the corporal, who will send him a nice present as a reward. And both his name and yours will be in the report which I shall send to the superintendent."

      "Curse you!" cried Mateo under his breath.

      By this time they had rejoined the company. Gianetto was already laid on his litter, and they were ready to set out. When he saw Mateo in Gamba's company he smiled a strange smile; then, turning towards the door of the house, he spat on the threshold.

      "It is the house of a traitor!" he exclaimed.

      No man but one willing to die would have dared to utter the word "traitor" in connection with Falcone. A quick stroke from a dagger, without need for a second, would have immediately wiped out the insult. But Mateo made no other movement beyond putting his hand to his head like a dazed man.

      Fortunato went into the house when he saw his father come up. He reappeared shortly carrying a jug of milk, which he offered with downcast eyes to Gianetto.

      "Keep off me!" roared the outlaw.

      Then, turning to one of the soldiers, he said——

      "Comrade, give me a drink of water."

      The soldier placed the flask in his hands, and the bandit drank the water given him by a man with whom he had but now exchanged gunshots. He then asked that his hands might be tied crossed over his breast instead of behind his back.

      "I prefer," he said, "to lie down comfortably."

      They granted him his request. Then, at a sign from the adjutant, they set out, first bidding adieu to Mateo, who answered never a word, and descended at a quick pace towards the plain.

      Well-nigh ten minutes elapsed before Mateo opened his mouth. The child looked uneasily first at his mother, then at his father, who leant on his gun, looking at him with an expression of concentrated anger.

      "Well, you have made a pretty beginning," said Mateo at last in a voice calm, but terrifying, to those who knew the man.

      "Father," the boy cried out, with tears in his eyes, just ready to fall at his knees.

      "Out of my sight!" shouted Mateo.

      The child stopped motionless a few steps off his father, and began to sob.

      Giuseppa came near him. She had just seen the end of the watch-chain hanging from out his shirt.

      "Who gave you that watch?" she asked severely.

      "My cousin the adjutant."

      Falcone seized the watch, and threw it against a stone with such force that it broke into a thousand pieces.

      "Woman," he said, "is this my child?"

      Giuseppa's brown cheeks flamed brick-red.

      "What are you saying, Mateo? Do you know to whom you are speaking?"

      "Yes, very well. This child is the first traitor of his race."

      Fortunato's sobs and hiccoughs redoubled, and Falcone kept his lynx eyes steadily fixed on him. At length he struck the ground with the butt end of his gun; then he flung it across his shoulder, retook the way to the mâquis, and ordered Fortunato to follow him. The child obeyed.

      Giuseppa ran after Mateo, and seized him by the arm.

      "He is your son," she said in a trembling voice, fixing her black eyes on those of her husband, as though to read all that was passing in his mind.

      "Leave go," replied Mateo; "I am his father."

      Giuseppa kissed her son, and went back crying into the hut. She threw herself on her knees before an image of the Virgin, and prayed fervently. When Falcone had walked about two hundred yards along the path he stopped at a little ravine and went down into it. He sounded the ground with the butt end of his gun, and found it soft and easy to dig. The spot seemed suitable to his purpose.

      "Fortunato, go near to that large rock."

      The boy did as he was told, then knelt down.

      "Father, father, do not kill me!"

      "Say your prayers!" repeated Mateo in a terrible voice.

      The child repeated the Lord's Prayer and the Creed, stammering and sobbing. The father said "Amen!" in a firm voice at the close of each prayer.

      "Are those all the prayers you know?"

      "I know also the Ave Maria and Litany, that my aunt taught me, father."

      "It is long, but never mind."

      The child finished the Litany in a faint voice.

      "Have you finished?"

      "Oh, father, forgive me! forgive me! I will never do it again. I will beg my cousin the corporal with all my might to pardon Gianetto!"

      He went on imploring. Mateo loaded his rifle and took aim.

      "May God forgive you!" he said.

      The boy made a frantic effort to get up and clasp his father's knees, but he had no time. Mateo fired, and Fortunato fell stone dead.

      Without throwing a single glance at the body, Mateo went back to his house to fetch a spade with which to bury his son. He had only returned a little way along the path when he met Giuseppa, who had run out alarmed by the sound of firing.

      "What have you done?" she cried.

      "Justice!"

Скачать книгу