CHAPTER VI
It is in obedience to the precept of Horace that I have begun byplunging _in media res_. Now that every one is asleep--the beautifulColomba, the colonel, and his daughter--I will seize the opportunityto acquaint my reader with certain details of which he must not beignorant, if he desires to follow the further course of this veracioushistory. He is already aware that Colonel della Rebbia, Orso's father,had been assassinated. Now, in Corsica, people are not murdered, as theyare in France, by the first escaped convict who can devise no bettermeans of relieving a man of his silver-plate. In Corsica a man ismurdered by his enemies--but the reason he has enemies is often verydifficult to discover. Many families hate each other because it has beenan old-standing habit of theirs to hate each other; but the tradition ofthe original cause of their hatred may have completely disappeared.
The family to which Colonel della Rebbia belonged hated several otherfamilies, but that of the Barricini particularly. Some people assertedthat in the sixteenth century a della Rebbia had seduced a lady of theBarricini family, and had afterward been poniarded by a relative of theoutraged damsel. Others, indeed, told the story in a different fashion,declaring that it was a della Rebbia who had been seduced, and aBarricini who had been poniarded. However that may be, there was, touse the time-honoured expression, "blood between the two houses."Nevertheless, and contrary to custom, this murder had not resultedin others; for the della Rebbia and the Barricini had been equallypersecuted by the Genoese Government, and as the young men had all leftthe country, the two families were deprived, during several generations,of their more energetic representatives. At the close of the lastcentury, one of the della Rebbias, an officer in the Neapolitan service,quarrelled, in a gambling hell, with some soldiers, who called him aCorsican goatherd, and other insulting names. He drew his sword,but being only one against three, he would have fared very ill if astranger, who was playing in the same room, had not exclaimed, "I, too,am a Corsican," and come to his rescue. This stranger was one of theBarricini, who, for that matter, was not acquainted with his countryman.After mutual explanations, they interchanged courtesies and vowedeternal friendship. For on the Continent, quite contrary to theirpractice in their own island, Corsicans quickly become friends. Thisfact was clearly exemplified on the present occasion. As long as dellaRebbia and Barricini remained in Italy they were close friends. Oncethey were back in Corsica, they saw each other but very seldom, althoughthey both lived in the same village; and when they died, it was reportedthat they had not spoken to each other for five or six years. Their sonslived in the same fashion--"on ceremony," as they say in the island;one of them Ghilfuccio, Orso's father, was a soldier; the other GiudiceBarricini, was a lawyer. Having both become heads of families, and beingseparated by their professions, they scarcely ever had an opportunity ofseeing or hearing of each other.
One day, however, about the year 1809, Giudice read in a newspaper atBastia that Captain Ghilfuccio had just been decorated, and remarked,before witnesses, that he was not at all surprised, considering that thefamily enjoyed the protection of General -----. This remark was reportedat Vienna to Ghilfuccio, who told one of his countrymen that, when hegot back to Corsica, he would find Giudice a very rich man, because hemade more money out of the suits he lost than out of those he won. Itwas never known whether he meant this as an insinuation that the lawyercheated his clients, or as a mere allusion to the commonplace truth thata bad cause often brings a lawyer more profit than a good one. Howeverthat may have been, the lawyer Barricini heard of the epigram, and neverforgot it. In 1812 he applied for the post of mayor of his commune,and had every hope of being appointed, when General ----- wrote to theprefect, to recommend one of Ghilfuccio's wife's relations. The prefectlost no time in carrying out the general's wish, and Barricini felt nodoubt that he owed his failure to the intrigues of Ghilfuccio. In 1814,after the emperor's fall, the general's protege was denounced as aBonapartist, and his place was taken by Barricini. He, in his turn, wasdismissed during the Hundred Days, but when the storm had blown over,he again took possession, with great pomp, of the mayoral seal and themunicipal registers.
From this moment his star shone brighter than ever. Colonel dellaRebbia, now living on half-pay at Pietranera, had to defend himselfagainst covert and repeated attacks due to the pettifogging malignity ofhis enemy. At one time he was summoned to pay for the damage his horsehad done to the mayor's fences, at another, the latter, under pretenceof repairing the floor of the church, ordered the removal of a brokenflagstone bearing the della Rebbia arms, which covered the grave ofsome member of the family. If the village goats ate the colonel's youngplants, the mayor always protected their owners. The grocer who kept thepost-office at Pietranera, and the old maimed soldier who had beenthe village policeman--both of them attached to the della Rebbiafamily--were turned adrift, and their places filled by Barricini'screatures.
The colonel's wife died, and her last wish was that she might be buriedin the middle of the little wood in which she had been fond of walking.Forthwith the mayor declared she should be buried in the villagecemetery, because he had no authority to permit burial in any otherspot. The colonel, in a fury, declared that until the permit came, hiswife would be interred in the spot she had chosen. He had her grave dugthere. The mayor, on his side, had another grave dug in the cemetery,and sent for the police, that the law, so he declared, might be dulyenforced. On the day of the funeral, the two parties came face to face,and, for a moment, there was reason to fear a struggle might ensue forthe possession of Signora della Rebbia's corpse. Some forty well-armedpeasants, mustered by the dead woman's relatives, forced the priest,when he issued from the church, to take the road to the wood. On theother hand, the mayor, at the head of his two sons, his dependents, andthe gendarmes, advanced to oppose their march. When he appeared, andcalled on the procession to turn back, he was greeted with howls andthreats. The advantage of numbers was with his opponents, and theyseemed thoroughly determined. At sight of him several guns were loaded,and one shepherd is even said to have levelled his musket at him, butthe colonel knocked up the barrel, and said, "Let no man fire withoutmy orders!" The mayor, who, like Panurge, had "a natural fear of blows,"refused to give battle, and retired, with his escort. Then the funeralprocession started, carefully choosing the longest way, so as to passin front of the mayor's house. As it was filing by, an idiot, who hadjoined its ranks, took it into his head to shout, "Vive l'Empereur!"Two or three voices answered him, and the Rebbianites, growing hotter,proposed killing one of the mayor's oxen, which chanced to bar theirway. Fortunately the colonel stopped this act of violence.
It is hardly necessary to mention that an official statement was at oncedrawn up, or that the mayor sent the prefect a report, in his sublimeststyle, describing the manner in which all laws, human and divine, hadbeen trodden under foot--how the majesty of himself, the mayor, and ofthe priest had been flouted and insulted, and how Colonel della Rebbiahad put himself at the head of a Bonapartist plot, to change the orderof succession to the throne, and to excite peaceful citizens to takearms against one another--crimes provided against by Articles 86 and 91of the Penal Code.
The exaggerated tone of this complaint diminished its effect. Thecolonel wrote to the prefect and to the public prosecutor. One of hiswife's kinsmen was related to one of the deputies of the island, anotherwas cousin to the president of the Royal Court. Thanks to this interest,the plot faded out of sight, Signora della Rebbia was left quiet in thewood, and the idiot alone was sentenced to a fortnight's imprisonment.
Lawyer Barricini, dissatisfied with the result of this affair, turnedhis batteries in a different direction. He dug out some old claim,whereby he undertook to contest the colonel's ownership of a certainwater-course which turned a mill-wheel. A lawsuit began and draggedslowly along. At the end of twelve months, the court was about to giveits decision, and according to all appearances in favour of the colonel,when Barricini placed in the hands of the public prosecutor a letter,signed by a certain Agostini, a
well-known bandit, threatening him, themayor, with fire and sword if he did not relinquish his pretensions. Itis well known that in Corsica the protection of these brigands ismuch sought after, and that, to oblige their friends, they frequentlyintervene in private quarrels. The mayor was deriving considerableadvantage from this letter, when the business was further complicated bya fresh incident. Agostini, the bandit, wrote to the public prosecutor,to complain that his handwriting had been counterfeited, and hischaracter aspersed, by some one who desired to represent him as a manwho made a traffic of his influence. "If I can discover the forger," hesaid at the end of his letter, "I will make a striking example of him."
It was quite clear that Agostini did not write the threatening letterto the mayor. The della Rebbia accused the Barricini of it and _viceversa_. Both parties broke into open threats, and the authorities didnot know where to find the culprit.
In the midst of all this Colonel Ghilfuccio was murdered. Here arethe facts, as they were elicited at the official inquiry. On the 2d ofAugust, 18--, toward nightfall, a woman named Maddalena Pietri, who wascarrying corn to Pietranera, heard two shots fired, very close together,the reports, as it seemed to her, coming from the deep lane leading tothe village, about a hundred and fifty paces from the spot on which shestood. Almost immediately afterward she saw a man running, crouchingalong a footpath among the vines, and making for the village. The manstopped for a minute, and turned round, but the distance prevented thewoman Pietri from seeing his features, and besides, he had a vine-leafin his mouth, which hid almost the whole of his face. He made a signalwith his head to some comrade, whom the witness could not see, and thendisappeared among the vines.
The woman Pietri dropped her burden, ran up the path, and found Coloneldella Rebbia, bathed in his own blood from two bullet wounds, but stillbreathing. Close beside him lay his gun, loaded and cocked, as if he hadbeen defending himself against a person who had attacked him in front,just when another had struck him from behind. Although the rattle wasin his throat, he struggled against the grip of death, but he could notutter a word--this the doctors explained by the nature of the wounds,which had cut through his lungs: the blood was choking him, it flowedslowly, like red froth. In vain did the woman lift him up, and ask himseveral questions. She saw plainly enough that he desired to speak, buthe could not make himself understood. Noticing that he was trying to gethis hand to his pocket, she quickly drew out of it a little note-book,which she opened and gave to him.
The wounded man took the pencil out of the note-book and tried towrite. In fact, the witness saw him form several letters, but with greatdifficulty. As she could not read, however, she was unable to understandtheir meaning. Exhausted by the effort, the colonel left the note-bookin the woman's hand, which he squeezed tightly, looking at herstrangely, as if he wanted to say (these are the witness's own words):"It is important--it is my murderer's name!"
Maddalena Pietri was going up to the village, when she met Barricini,the mayor, with his son Vincentello. It was then almost dark. She toldthem what she had seen. The mayor took the note-book, hurried up to hishouse, put on his sash, and fetched his secretary and the gendarmes.Left alone with young Vincentello, Maddalena Pietri suggested that heshould go to the colonel's assistance, in case he was still alive, butVincentello replied that if he were to go near a man who had been thebitter enemy of his family, he would certainly be accused of havingkilled him. A very short time afterward the mayor arrived, found thecolonel dead, had the corpse carried away, and drew up his report.
In spite of the agitation so natural on such an occasion, MonsieurBarricini had hastened to place the colonel's note-book under seal, andto make all the inquiries in his power, but none of them resulted in anydiscovery of importance.
When the examining magistrate arrived the note-book was opened, and ona blood-stained page were seen letters written in a trembling hand, butstill quite legible; the sheet bore the word _Agosti_--and the judgedid not doubt that the colonel had intended to point out Agostini as hismurderer. Nevertheless, Colomba della Rebbia, who had been summoned bythe magistrate, asked leave to examine the note-book. After turning theleaves for a few moments, she stretched out her hand toward the mayorand cried, "There stands the murderer!" Then with a precision and aclearness which were astonishing, considering the passion of sorrowthat shook her, she related that, a few days previously, her father hadreceived a letter from his son, which he had burned, but that beforedoing so he had written Orso's address (he had just changed hisgarrison) in the note-book with his pencil. Now, his address was nolonger in the note-book, and Colomba concluded that the mayor had tornout the leaf on which it was written, which probably was that on whichher father had traced the murderer's name, and for that name the mayor,according to Colomba, had substituted Agostini's. The magistrate, infact, noticed that one sheet was missing from the quire on which thename was written, but he remarked also that leaves were likewise missingfrom other quires in the same note-book, and certain witnesses testifiedthat the colonel had a habit of tearing out pages when he wanted tolight a cigar--therefore nothing was more probable than that, by anoversight, he had burned the address he had copied. Further, it wasshown that the mayor could not have read the note-book on receiving itfrom Maddalena Pietri, on account of the darkness, and it was provedthat he had not stopped an instant before he went into his house, thatthe sergeant of the gendarmes had gone there with him, and had seen himlight a lamp and put the note-book into an envelope which he had sealedbefore his eyes.
When this officer had concluded his deposition, Colomba,half-distracted, cast herself at his feet, and besought him, by all heheld most sacred, to say whether he had not left the mayor alone for asingle moment. After a certain amount of hesitation, the man, who wasevidently affected by the young girl's excitement, admitted that he hadgone into the next room to fetch a sheet of foolscap, but that he hadnot been away a minute, and that the mayor had talked to him all thetime he was groping for the paper in a drawer. Moreover, he deposed thatwhen he came back the blood-stained note-book was still on the table, inthe very place where the mayor had thrown it when he first came in.
Monsieur Barricini gave his evidence with the utmost coolness. He madeallowances, he said, for Mademoiselle della Rebbia's excitement, and wasready to condescend to justify himself. He proved that he had spent hiswhole evening in the village, that his son Vincentello had been with himin front of the house at the moment when the crime was committed, andthat 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 oneof them had been recently discharged. He added, that, as regarded thenote-book, he had at once realized its importance; that he had sealed itup, and placed it in the hands of his deputy, foreseeing that he himselfmight be suspected, on account of his quarrel with the colonel. Finally,he reminded the court that Agostini had threatened to kill the man whohad written a letter in his name, and he insinuated that this ruffianhad probably suspected the colonel, and murdered him. Such a vengeance,for a similar reason, is by no means unprecedented in the history ofbrigandage.
Five days after Colonel della Rebbia's death, Agostini was surprised bya detachment of riflemen, and killed, fighting desperately to the last.On his person was found a letter from Colomba, beseeching him to declarewhether he was guilty of the murder imputed to him, or not. As thebandit had sent no answer, it was pretty generally concluded that he hadnot the courage to tell a daughter he had murdered her father. Yet thosewho claimed to know Agostini's nature thoroughly, whispered that ifhe had killed the colonel, he would have boasted of the deed. Anotherbandit, known by the name of Brandolaccio, sent Colomba a declarationin which he bore witness "on his honour" to his comrade's innocence--butthe only proof he put forward was that Agostini had never told him thathe suspected the colonel.
The upshot was that the Barricini suffered no inconvenience, theexamining magistrate was loud in his praise of the mayor, and the mayor,on his side, crowned his handsome behaviour by relin
quishing all hisclaims over the stream, concerning which he had brought the lawsuitagainst Colonel della Rebbia.
According to the custom of her country, Colomba improvised a _ballata_in presence of her father's corpse, and before his assembled friends. Init she poured out all her hatred against the Barricini, formally chargedthem with the murder, and threatened them with her brother's vengeance.It was this same _ballata_, which had grown very popular, that thesailor had sung before Miss Lydia. When Orso, who was in the north ofFrance, heard of his father's death, he applied for leave, but failed toobtain it. A letter from his sister led him to believe at first in theguilt of the Barricini, but he soon received copies of all the documentsconnected with the inquiry and a private letter from the judge, whichalmost convinced him that the bandit Agostini was the only culprit.Every three months Colomba had written to him, reiterating hersuspicions, which she called her "proofs." In spite of himself, theseaccusations made his Corsican blood boil, and sometimes he was very nearsharing his sister's prejudices. Nevertheless, every time he wrote toher he repeated his conviction that her allegations possessed no solidfoundation, and were quite unworthy of belief. He even forbade her, butalways vainly, to mention them to him again.
Thus two years went by. At the end of that time Orso was placed onhalf-pay, and then it occurred to him to go back to his own country--notat all for the purpose of taking vengeance on people whom he believedinnocent, but to arrange a marriage for his sister, and the sale of hisown small property--if its value should prove sufficient to enable himto live on the Continent.
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