CHAPTER IX
Meanwhile Orso was riding along beside his sister. At first the speed atwhich their horses moved prevented all conversation, but when the hillsgrew so steep that they were obliged to go at a foot's pace, theybegan to exchange a few words about the friends from whom they had justparted. Colomba spoke with admiration of Miss Nevil's beauty, of hergolden hair, and charming ways. Then she asked whether the colonelwas really as rich as he appeared, and whether Miss Lydia was his onlychild.
"She would be a good match," said she. "Her father seems to have a greatliking for you----"
And as Orso made no response, she added: "Our family was rich, in daysgone by. It is still one of the most respected in the island. All these_signori_ about us are bastards. The only noble blood left is in thefamilies of the corporals, and as you know, Orso, your ancestors werethe chief corporals in the island. You know our family came from beyondthe hills, and it was the civil wars that forced us over to this side.If I were you, Orso, I shouldn't hesitate--I should ask Colonel Nevilfor his daughter's hand." Orso shrugged his shoulders. "With herfortune, you might buy the Falsetta woods, and the vineyards below ours.I would build a fine stone house, and add a story to the old tower inwhich Sambucuccio killed so many Moors in the days of Count Henry, _ilbel Missere_."
"Colomba, you're talking nonsense," said Orso, cantering forward.
"You are a man, Ors' Anton', and of course you know what you ought todo better than any woman. But I should very much like to know whatobjection that Englishman could have to the marriage. Are there anycorporals in England?"
After a somewhat lengthy ride, spent in talking in this fashion, thebrother and sister reached a little village, not far from Bocognano,where they halted to dine and sleep at a friend's house. They werewelcomed with a hospitality which must be experienced before it can beappreciated. The next morning, their host, who had stood godfather to achild to whom Madame della Rebbia had been godmother, accompanied them aleague beyond his house.
"Do you see those woods and thickets?" said he to Orso, just as theywere parting. "A man who had met with a misfortune might live therepeacefully for ten years, and no gendarme or soldier would ever come tolook for him. The woods run into the Vizzavona forest, and anybody whohad friends at Bocognano or in the neighbourhood would want for nothing.That's a good gun you have there. It must carry a long way. Blood of theMadonna! What calibre! You might kill better game than boars with it!"
Orso answered, coldly, that his gun was of English make, and carried"the lead" a long distance. The friends embraced, and took theirdifferent ways.
Our travellers were drawing quite close to Pietranera, when, at theentrance of a little gorge, through which they had to pass, they beheldseven or eight men, armed with guns, some sitting on stones, otherslying on the grass, others standing up, and seemingly on the lookout.Their horses were grazing a little way off. Colomba looked at them fora moment, through a spy-glass which she took out of one of the largeleathern pockets all Corsicans wear when on a journey.
"Those are our men!" she cried, with a well-pleased air. "Pieruccio haddone his errand well!"
"What men?" inquired Orso.
"Our herdsmen," she replied. "I sent Pieruccio off yesterday eveningto call the good fellows together, so that they may attend you home. Itwould not do for you to enter Pietranera without an escort, and besides,you must know the Barricini are capable of anything!"
"Colomba," said Orso, and his tone was severe, "I have asked you,over and over again, not to mention the Barricini and your groundlesssuspicions to me. I shall certainly not make myself ridiculous by ridinghome with all these loafers behind me, and I am very angry with you forhaving sent for them without telling me."
"Brother, you have forgotten the ways of your own country. It is mybusiness to protect you, when your own imprudence exposes you to danger.It was my duty to do what I have done."
Just at that moment the herdsmen, who had caught sight of them, hastenedto their horses, and galloped down the hill to meet them.
"Evvviva Ors' Anton'!" shouted a brawny, white-bearded old fellow,wrapped, despite the heat, in a hooded cloak of Corsican cloth, thickerthan the skins of his own goats. "The image of his father, only tallerand stronger! What a splendid gun! There'll be talk about that gun, Ors'Anton'!"
"Evvviva Ors' Anton'!" chorused the herdsmen. "We were sure you'd comeback, at last!"
"Ah! Ors' Anton'!" cried a tall fellow, with a skin tanned brick red."How happy your father would be, if he were here to welcome you! Thedear, good man! You would have seen him now, if he would have listenedto me--if he would have let me settle Guidice's business! . . . But hewouldn't listen to me, poor fellow! He knows I was right, now!"
"Well, well!" said the old man. "Guidice will lose nothing by waiting."
"Evvviva Ors' Anton'!" And the reports of a dozen guns capped theplaudit.
Very much put out, Orso sat in the midst of the group of mounted men,all talking at once, and crowding round to shake hands with him. Forsome time he could not make himself heard. At last, with the air he puton when he used to reprimand the men of his company, or send one of themto the guard-room, he said:
"I thank you, friends, for the affection you show for me, and for thatwhich you felt for my father! But I do not want advice from any of you,and you must not offer it. I know my own duty."
"He's right! He's right!" cried the herdsmen. "You know you may reckonon us!"
"Yes, I do reckon on you. But at this moment I need no help, and nopersonal danger threatens me. Now face round at once, and be off withyou to your goats. I know my way to Pietranera, and I want no guides."
"Fear nothing, Ors' Anton'," said the old man. "They would never dareto show their noses to-day. The mouse runs back to its hole when thetom-cat comes out!"
"Tom-cat yourself, old gray-beard!" said Orso. "What's your name?"
"What! don't you remember me, Ors' Anton'? I who have so often takenyou up behind me on that biting mule of mine! You don't remember PoloGriffo? I'm an honest fellow, though, and with the della Rebbia, bodyand soul. Say but the word, and when that big gun of yours speaks, thisold musket of mine, as old as its master, shall not be dumb. Be sure ofthat, Ors' Anton'!"
"Well, well! But be off with you now, in the devil's name, and let us goon our way!"
At last the herdsmen departed, trotting rapidly off toward the village,but they stopped every here and there, at all the highest spots on theroad, as though they were looking out for some hidden ambuscade, alwayskeeping near enough to Orso and his sister to be able to come to theirassistance if necessary. And old Polo Griffo said to his comrades:
"I understand him! I understand him! He'll not say what he means to do,but he'll do it! He's the born image of his father. Ah! you may say youhave no spite against any one, my boy! But you've made your vow to SaintNega.[*] Bravo! I wouldn't give a fig for the mayor's hide--there won'tbe the makings of a wineskin in it before the month is out!"
[*] This saint is not mentioned in the calendar. To make a vow to Saint Nega means to deny everything deliberately.
Preceded by this troop of skirmishers, the last descendant of the dellaRebbia entered the village, and proceeded to the old mansion ofhis forefathers, the corporals. The Rebbianites, who had long beenleaderless, had gathered to welcome him, and those dwellers in thevillage who observed a neutral line of conduct all came to theirdoorsteps to see him pass by. The adherents of the Barricini remainedinside their houses, and peeped out of the slits in their shutters.
The village of Pietranera is very irregularly built, like most Corsicanvillages--for indeed, to see a street, the traveller must betakehimself to Cargese, which was built by Monsieur de Marboeuf. The houses,scattered irregularly about, without the least attempt at orderlyarrangement, cover the top of a small plateau, or rather of a ridge ofthe mountain. Toward the centre of the village stands a great evergreenoak, and close beside it may be seen a granite trough, into whichthe water of a neighbouring spring is conveyed
by a wooden pipe. Thismonument of public utility was constructed at the common expense of thedella Rebbia and Barricini families. But the man who imagined this tobe a sign of former friendship between the two families would be sorelymistaken. On the contrary, it is the outcome of their mutual jealousy.Once upon a time, Colonel della Rebbia sent a small sum of money tothe Municipal Council of his commune to help to provide a fountain.The lawyer Barricini hastened to forward a similar gift, and to thisgenerous strife Pietranera owes its water supply. Round about theevergreen oak and the fountain there is a clear space, known as "theSquare," on which the local idlers gather every night. Sometimes theyplay at cards, and once a year, in Carnival-time, they dance. At the twoends of the square stands two edifices, of greater height than breadth,built of a mixture of granite and schist. These are the _Towers_ ofthe two opposing families, the Barricini and the della Rebbia. Theirarchitecture is exactly alike, their height is similar, and it is quiteevident that the rivalry of the two families has never been absolutelydecided by any stroke of fortune in favor of either.
It may perhaps be well to explain what should be understood by thisword, "Tower." It is a square building, some forty feet in height, whichin any other country would be simply described as a pigeon-house. Anarrow entrance-door, eight feet above the level of the ground, isreached by a very steep flight of steps. Above the door is a window,in front of which runs a sort of balcony, the floor of which is piercedwith openings, like a machicolation, through which the inhabitants maydestroy an unwelcome visitor without any danger to themselves. Betweenthe window and the door are two escutcheons, roughly carved. One ofthese bears what was originally a Genoese cross, now so battered thatnobody but an antiquary could recognise it. On the other are chiselledthe arms of the family to whom the Tower belongs. If the reader willcomplete this scheme of decoration by imagining several bullet marks onthe escutcheons and on the window frames, he will have a fair idea ofa Corsican mansion, dating from the middle ages. I had forgotten to addthat the dwelling-house adjoins the tower, and is frequently connectedwith it by some interior passage.
The della Rebbia house and tower stand on the northern side of thesquare at Pietranera. The Barricini house and tower are on the southernside. Since the colonel's wife had been buried, no member of eitherfamily had ever been seen on any side of the square, save that assignedby tacit agreement to its own party. Orso was about to ride past themayor's house when his sister checked him, and suggested his turningdown a lane that would take them to their own dwelling without crossingthe square at all.
"Why should we go out of our way?" said Orso. "Doesn't the square belongto everybody?" and he rode on.
"Brave heart!" murmured Colomba. ". . . My father! you will be avenged!"
When they reached the square, Colomba put herself between her brotherand the Barricini mansion, and her eyes never left her enemy's windows.She noticed that they had been lately barricaded and provided with_archere_. _Archere_ is the name given to narrow openings likeloopholes, made between the big logs of wood used to close up thelower parts of the windows. When an onslaught is expected, this sort ofbarricade is used, and from behind the logs the attacked party can fireat its assailants with ease and safety.
"The cowards!" said Colomba. "Look, brother, they have begun to protectthemselves! They have put up barricades! But some day or other they'llhave to come out."
Orso's presence on the southern side of the square made a greatsensation at Pietranera, and was taken to be a proof of boldnesssavouring of temerity. It was subject of endless comment on the part ofthe neutrals, when they gathered around the evergreen oak, that night.
"It is a good thing," they said, "that Barricini's sons are not backyet, for they are not so patient as the lawyer, and very likely theywould not have let their enemy set his foot on their ground withoutmaking him pay for his bravado."
"Remember what I am telling you, neighbour," said an old man, thevillage oracle. "I watched Colomba's face to-day. She had some idea inher head. I smell powder in the air. Before long, butcher's meat will becheap in Pietranera!"
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