CHAPTER VII
Whether it was that the arrival of his sister had reminded Orso forciblyof his paternal home, or that Colomba's unconventional dress and mannersmade him feel shy before his civilized friends, he announced, thevery next day, his determination to leave Ajaccio, and to return toPietranera. But he made the colonel promise that when he went to Bastiahe would come and stay in his modest manor-house, and undertook, inreturn, to provide him with plenty of buck, pheasant, boar, and othergame.
On the day before that of his departure Orso proposed that, instead ofgoing out shooting, they should all take a walk along the shores ofthe gulf. With Miss Lydia on his arm he was able to talk in perfectfreedom--for Colomba had stayed in the town to do her shopping, andthe colonel was perpetually leaving the young people to fire shots atsea-gulls and gannets, greatly to the astonishment of the passers-by,who could not conceive why any man should waste his powder on suchpaltry game.
They were walking along the path leading to the Greek Chapel, whichcommands the finest view to be had of the bay, but they paid noattention to it.
"Miss Lydia," said Orso, after a silence which had lasted long enough tobecome embarrassing, "tell me frankly, what do you think of my sister?"
"I like her very much," answered Miss Nevil. "Better than you," sheadded, with a smile; "for she is a true Corsican, and you are rather toocivilized a savage!"
"Too civilized! Well, in spite of myself, I feel that I am growing asavage again, since I have set my foot on the island! A thousand horridthoughts disturb and torment me, and I wanted to talk with you a littlebefore I plunge into my desert!"
"You must be brave, monsieur! Look at your sister's resignation; shesets you an example!"
"Ah! do not be deceived! Do not believe in her resignation. She hasnot said a word to me as yet, but every look of hers tells me what sheexpects of me."
"What does she expect of you, then?"
"Oh, nothing! Except that I should try whether your father's gun willkill a man as surely as it kills a partridge."
"What an idea! You can actually believe that, when you have justacknowledged that she has said nothing to you yet? It really is toodreadful of you!"
"If her thoughts were not fixed on vengeance, she would have spokento me at once about our father; she has never done it. She would havementioned the names of those she considers--wrongly, I know--to be hismurderers. But no; not a word! That is because we Corsicans, yousee, are a cunning race. My sister realizes that she does not hold mecompletely in her power, and she does not choose to startle me while Imay still escape her. Once she has led me to the edge of the precipice,and once I turn giddy there, she will thrust me into the abyss."
Then Orso gave Miss Nevil some details of his father's death, andrecounted the principal proofs which had culminated in his belief thatAgostini was the assassin.
"Nothing," he added, "has been able to convince Colomba. I saw that byher last letter. She has sworn the Barricini shall die, and--you see,Miss Nevil, what confidence I have in you!--they would not be alive now,perhaps, if one of the prejudices for which her uncivilized educationmust be the excuse had not convinced her that the execution of thisvengeance belongs to me, as head of her family, and that my honourdepends upon it!"
"Really and truly, Monsieur della Rebbia!" said Miss Nevil, "you slanderyour sister!"
"No. As you have said it yourself, she is a Corsican; she thinks as theyall think. Do you know why I was so sad yesterday?"
"No. But for some time past you have been subject to these fitsof sadness. You were much pleasanter in the earlier days of ouracquaintance."
"Yesterday, on the contrary, I was more cheery and happy than Igenerally am. I had seen how kind, how indulgent, you were to my sister.The colonel and I were coming home in a boat. Do you know what one ofthe boatmen said to me in his infernal _patois_? 'You've killed a dealof game, Ors' Anton', but you'll find Orlanduccio Barricini a bettershot than you!'"
"Well, what was there so very dreadful in that remark? Are you so verymuch set upon being considered a skilful sportsman?"
"But don't you see the ruffian was telling me I shouldn't have courageto kill Orlanduccio!"
"Do you know, M. della Rebbia, you frighten me! The air of this islandof yours seems not only to give people fevers, but to drive them mad.Luckily we shall be leaving it soon!"
"Not without coming to Pietranera--you have promised my sister that."
"And if we were to fail in that promise, we should bring down someterrible vengeance on our heads, no doubt!"
"Do you remember that story your father was telling us, the other day,about the Indians who threatened the company's agents that, if theywould not grant their prayer, they would starve themselves to death?"
"That means that you would starve yourself to death! I doubt it verymuch! You would go hungry for one day and then Mademoiselle Colombawould bring you such a tempting _bruccio_[*] that you would quiterelinquish your plan."
[*] A sort of baked cream cheese, a national dish in Corsica.
"Your jests are cruel, Miss Nevil. You might spare me. Listen, I amalone here; I have no one but you to prevent me from going mad, as youcall it. You have been my guardian angel, and now----!"
"Now," said Miss Lydia gravely, "to steady this reason of yours, whichis so easily shaken, you have the honour of a soldier and a man, and,"she added, turning away to pluck a flower, "if that will be any help toyou, you have the memory of your guardian angel, too!"
"Ah, Miss Nevil, if I could only think you really take some interest!"
"Listen, M. della Rebbia," said Miss Nevil, with some emotion. "As youare a child, I will treat you as I would treat a child. When I was alittle girl my mother gave me a beautiful necklace, which I had longedfor greatly; but she said to me, 'Every time you put on this necklace,remember you do not know French yet.' The necklace lost some of itsvalue in my eyes, it was a source of constant self-reproach. But Iwore it, and in the end I knew French. Do you see this ring? It is anEgyptian scarabaeus, found, if you please, in a pyramid. That strangefigure, which you may perhaps take for a bottle, stands for '_humanlife_.' There are certain people in my country to whom this hieroglyphicshould appear exceedingly appropriate. This, which comes after it, is ashield upon an arm, holding a lance; that means '_struggle_, _battle_.'Thus the two characters, together, form this motto, which strikes meas a fine one, '_Life is a battle_.' Pray do not fancy I can translatehieroglyphics at sight! It was a man learned in such matters whoexplained these to me. Here, I will give you my scarabaeus. Whenever youfeel some wicked Corsican thought stir in you, look at my talisman, andtell yourself you must win the battle our evil passions wage against us.Why, really, I don't preach at all badly!"
"I shall think of you, Miss Nevil, and I shall say to myself----"
"Say to yourself you have a friend who would be in despair at the ideaof your being hanged--and besides it would be too distressing for yourancestors the corporals!"
With these words she dropped Orso's arm, laughing and running to herfather.
"Papa," she said, "do leave those poor birds alone, and come and make uppoetry with us, in Napoleon's grotto!"
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