‘He told Cucumetto everything: about his love for the prisoner, their promises of fidelity and how, every night while they had been in the district, they had met in some ruins. That evening, as it happened, Cucumetto had sent Carlini to a neighbouring village, so he had not been able to keep his appointment; but Cucumetto, or so he said, had chanced to go there and this was how he came to abduct the girl. Carlini begged his leader to make an exception for him and to respect Rita, telling him that her father was rich and would pay a good ransom.
‘Cucumetto appeared to give in to his friend’s prayers and instructed him to find a shepherd whom they could send to Rita’s father in Frosinone.
‘At this, Carlini went joyfully to the girl, told her she was saved and asked her to write a letter to her father, letting him know what had happened and telling him that her ransom had been fixed at three hundred piastres. The father was given a mere twelve hours to comply, that is to say, by the next morning at nine o’clock.
‘Once the letter had been written, Carlini immediately took it and ran down into the valley to find a messenger.
‘He found a young shepherd who was driving his flock to the pen. Shepherds are natural messengers for bandits, because they live between the town and the mountain, between civilized life and savagery.
‘The young shepherd left at once, promising to be in Frosinone within the hour, while Carlini returned happily to find his mistress and tell her this good news.
‘He found the rest of the band in the clearing where they were merrily supping on the provisions which bandits would levy on the peasants as a simple tribute. Among the merrymakers he looked in vain for Cucumetto and Rita. He asked where they were, but the bandits replied with a huge burst of laughter. A cold sweat broke out on Carlini’s brow and he felt his scalp creep with anxiety.
‘He repeated the question. One of the diners filled a glass with Orvieto wine and handed it to him, saying: “To the health of brave Cucumetto and the beautiful Rita!”
‘At that moment, Carlini thought he heard a woman’s cry. He guessed what had happened. He took the glass, broke it across the face of the man who was offering it to him and ran towards the place from which the cry had come.
‘A hundred yards away, on the other side of some bushes, he found Rita, senseless in the arms of Cucumetto. When he saw Carlini, Cucumetto got up with a pistol in each hand. The two bandits stared at each other, one with a lustful smile on his lips, the other with the pallor of death on his brow.
‘You would have thought that something terrible was about to happen between the two men; but, little by little, Carlini’s features relaxed and the hand which he had brought up to one of the pistols in his belt lapsed back to his side.
‘Rita was lying between the two of them and the scene was lit by moonlight.
‘ “Well?” said Cucumetto. “Did you carry out my orders?”
‘ “Yes, captain,” Carlini replied. “Tomorrow, before nine o’clock, Rita’s father will be here with the money.”
‘ “Splendid! Meanwhile, we shall enjoy a pleasant night. This girl is charming and I must congratulate you on your taste, Signor Carlini. So, as I am not selfish, we shall return to our comrades and draw lots to see who will have her next.”
‘ “So you have decided to abandon her to the common law?”
‘ “Why make an exception in her favour?”
‘ “I thought that my request…”
‘ “And are you more important than the others?”
‘ “Correct.”
‘ “Calm yourself,” Cucumetto said, laughing. “Sooner or later, you will have your turn.”
‘Carlini’s teeth were clenched to breaking point.
‘ “Come on,” Cucumetto said, taking a step in the direction of the feast. “Will you join us?”
‘ “I will follow you…”
‘Cucumetto went off without letting Carlini out of his sight, no doubt fearing that he might strike him from behind. But nothing in the bandit’s manner suggested any hostile intention. He was standing, with his arms folded, beside the body of Rita, who had still not regained consciousness.
‘For a moment, Cucumetto thought that the young man might take her in his arms and escape with her. Not that it mattered to him very much now: he had had what he wanted of Rita and, as far as the money was concerned, three hundred piastres divided among all of them amounted to so little that he hardly cared about it. So he carried on towards the clearing where, to his great astonishment, Carlini arrived almost at the same time as he did.
‘ “Cast lots! Cast lots!” the bandits cried when they saw their chief. And the eyes of all these men shone with drunkenness and lust, while the flames from the fire threw a red light on the figures around it that made them resemble demons.
‘What they asked for was within the regulations, so the chief nodded to show that he agreed to their request. All the names were put into a hat, Carlini’s with the rest, and the youngest member of the band drew one of them out.
‘The slip of paper bore the name of Diavolaccio.
‘Now, this was the same man who had proposed the chief’s toast, and Carlini had replied to him by breaking a glass on his face. The blood was still flowing from a long cut, extending from his temple to his mouth. When he saw how fortune had favoured him, Diavolaccio burst out laughing.
‘ “Captain,” he said, “a short while ago, Carlini did not want to drink to your health, so suggest that he drinks to mine. Perhaps he will be more obliging to you than he was to me.”
‘Everyone expected some outburst from Carlini but, to everyone’s surprise, he took a glass in one hand and a flask in the other; and, filling the glass, he announced, in a perfectly calm voice: “To your health, Diavolaccio!”
‘He swallowed the contents of the glass without a tremor of the hand then, sitting by the fire, he said: “Where’s my share of supper? The errand I have just run has given me an appetite.”
‘ “Long live Carlini!” the bandits cried. “Not before time! That’s how to accept the matter like a good companion!”
‘They all returned to make a circle around the fire, while Diavolaccio went off. Carlini ate and drank as if nothing had happened.
‘The bandits were looking at one another in astonishment, not understanding this impassivity, when they heard heavy footsteps on the ground behind them. They looked around and saw Diavolaccio carrying the girl in his arms. Her head was thrown back and her long hair hung down to the ground. As the two came closer to the light from the fire, the spectators noticed the pallor of the girl and the pallor of the bandit.
‘There was something so strange and so solemn about this apparition that everyone got up, except Carlini, who remained seated and continued to eat and drink as if nothing was happening. Diavolaccio continued to walk forward, surrounded by the deepest silence, and set Rita down at the captain’s feet.
‘At this, everyone understood the reason for the girl’s pallor and that of the bandit: Rita had a knife buried up to the hilt beneath her left breast.
‘All eyes turned towards Carlini. The sheath at his belt was empty.
‘ “Ah!” said the chief. “Now I understand why Carlini stayed behind.”
‘Any savage nature is capable of appreciating a determined action; perhaps no other of the bandits would have done what Carlini had just done, but all of them understood him.
‘ “Well?” said Carlini, getting up and walking over to the body, with his hand on the butt of one of his pistols. “Does anyone still want to argue with me over this woman?”
‘ “No,” said the chief. “She is yours.”
‘Then Carlini himself took her in his arms and carried her out of the circle of light thrown by the flames of the fire.
‘Cucumetto placed his sentries as usual and the bandits went to sleep, wrapped in their cloaks, around the fire.
‘At midnight the sentry sounded the alarm, and immediately the chief and his companions were on their feet. It was Rita’s fat
her coming in person and bearing his daughter’s ransom.
‘ “Here,” he said to Cucumetto, handing him a bag of money. “Take it: this is three hundred pistols. Now give me back my child.”
‘But the chief, without taking the money, motioned to him to follow. The old man obeyed and both went away under the trees, under the moonlight filtering through their branches. Eventually Cucumetto stopped and pointed out two people sitting together under a tree.
‘ “There,” he said to the old man. “Ask Carlini for your daughter. He will tell you about it.”
‘And he went back to the group.
‘The old man stood there, motionless, staring. He felt that some unknown misfortune, vast and unprecedented, was about to strike him. Finally he took a few steps towards the shapeless group which he could barely make out.
‘At the sound of his approach, Carlini looked up and the shape of the two figures began to become clearer to the old man’s eyes. A woman was lying on the ground with her head resting on the knees of a seated man who was bending over her. When he looked up the man had revealed the face of the woman which he had been pressing against his chest. The old man recognized his daughter, and Carlini recognized the old man.
‘ “I was expecting you,” the bandit said to Rita’s father.
‘ “Miserable creature!” said the old man. “What have you done?” And he looked in horror at Rita, who was lying, pale, motionless, bloodstained, with a knife in her breast. A ray of moonlight struck her and lit the scene with its wan light.
‘ “Cucumetto violated your daughter,” the bandit said. “And, since I loved her, I killed her, for after him she would have served for the pleasure of the whole band.”
‘The old man said nothing but went as pale as a ghost.
‘ “Now,” Carlini said, “if I was wrong, avenge her.” And he drew the knife from the young girl’s breast, got up and offered it to the old man with one hand, while with the other opening his shirt and presenting him with his bared chest.
‘ “You did well,” the old man said in a dull voice. “Embrace me, my son.”
‘Carlini flung himself, sobbing, into the arms of his mistress’s father. These were the first tears that this man of blood had ever shed.
‘ “Now,” the old man told him, “help me to bury my daughter.”
‘Carlini went to fetch two spades, then the father and lover began to dig under an oak-tree whose dense foliage would cover the young girl’s grave. When it was dug, the father kissed her, followed by the lover. Then, one taking her by the feet, the other beneath the shoulders, they lowered her into the grave.
‘After that they knelt, one on each side, and recited the prayer for the dead. When that was done, they shovelled the earth back on the body until the grave was full.
‘Then, holding out his hand, the old man said: “Thank you, my son! Now, leave me alone.”
‘ “But…” said Carlini.
‘ “I order you to leave me.”
‘Carlini obeyed and went back to his comrades, wrapped himself in his cloak and soon appeared to have fallen into as deep a sleep as the others.
‘The previous day it had been decided that they would move camp. An hour before daybreak, Cucumetto woke up his men and gave the order to leave. But Carlini did not want to leave the forest without finding out what had happened to Rita’s father. He went to the spot where he had left him and there found the old man hanging from one of the branches of the oak-tree that overshadowed his daughter’s grave.
‘So Carlini swore on the body of one and the grave of the other that he would avenge them both.
‘However, he was unable to keep his oath for, two days later, in an encounter with the Roman carabinieri, Carlini was killed.
‘The only surprising thing was that, though he had been facing the enemy, he was shot by a bullet through the back. But no one any longer felt surprised when one of the bandits pointed out to his colleagues that Cucumetto had been standing ten yards behind Carlini when the latter fell.
‘On the morning of their departure from the forest of Frosinone, he had followed Carlini in the darkness, heard the oath he swore and, being a cautious man, had decided to strike first.
‘There were ten other tales no less extraordinary than that one told about this fearful bandit leader. So, from Fondi to Perugia, everyone trembled at the mere name of Cucumetto.
‘These stories were often the subject of conversation between Luigi and Teresa. The girl would be very frightened by them, but Vampa reassured her with a smile and tapped his fine gun which shot so accurately. Then, if she was still not easy in her mind, he would point to some crow perched on a dead branch, take aim at it and fire: the creature would fall at the foot of the tree.
‘Time went by. The two young people had agreed to marry when Vampa was twenty and Teresa nineteen. Both were orphans, so they did not need to ask permission except from their masters; they had done so and it was granted.
‘One day, when they were discussing the future, they both heard two or three shots. Then, suddenly, a man came out of the wood near which the pair of them were accustomed to graze their sheep and ran towards them. As soon as he was in earshot, he cried: “I am being pursued! Can you hide me?”
‘The young couple easily realized that this fugitive must be a bandit of some sort, but there exists an innate sympathy between the peasant and the Roman bandit which means that the former is always ready to help the latter.
‘So, saying nothing, Vampa ran to the stone that covered the entrance to their cave, opened it by pushing back the stone, indicated to the fugitive that he should hide in this refuge which no one knew, returned the stone to its place and went back to sit beside Teresa.
‘Almost immediately, four carabinieri appeared on horseback at the edge of the wood. Three seemed to be hunting the fugitive, the fourth had a bandit as his prisoner and was leading him by a rope around the neck.
‘The first three surveyed the scene, saw the two young people, galloped over and began to question them.
‘They had seen nothing.
‘ “That’s annoying,” said the brigadier, “because the one we are looking for is the leader.”
‘ “Cucumetto?” Luigi and Teresa could not refrain from crying out together.
‘ “Yes,” the brigadier said. “And since there is a price of a thousand Roman écus on his head, there would have been five hundred for you if you had helped us to capture him.”
‘The couple looked at one another. For a moment, the brigadier’s hopes rose: five hundred Roman écus is equal to three thousand francs, and three thousand francs is a fortune for two poor orphans who want to marry.
‘ “Yes, it’s very annoying,” said Vampa, “but we haven’t seen him.”
‘So the carabinieri scoured the countryside in different directions, but to no avail. Then, one by one, they left.
‘At this, Vampa went to move the stone and Cucumetto came out.
‘Through the cracks in his granite door, he had seen the two young people chatting with the carabinieri and guessed the tenor of the conversation, reading on the faces of Luigi and Teresa their unshakeable determination not to hand him over; so he drew from his pocket a purse full of gold and offered it to them.
‘But Vampa tossed his head proudly. As for Teresa, her eyes shone when she thought of all the rich jewels and fine clothes she could buy with that purse full of gold.
‘Cucumetto was an extremely clever tempter: in him Satan had taken the shape of a bandit rather than a serpent. He intercepted the look and recognized in Teresa a worthy daughter of Eve. He went back into the forest, turning around several times, on the pretext of thanking his liberators.
‘Several days passed without them seeing or hearing any more of Cucumetto.
‘The time of the carnival was approaching. The Count of San-Felice announced that he would be holding a great masked ball to which all the most elegant members of Roman society would be invited. Teresa was very anxious to se
e this ball. Luigi asked his protector the steward for permission for himself and Teresa to take part in it, concealed among the house servants. Permission was granted.
‘The ball was being given by the count chiefly to please his daughter Carmela, whom he adored. Carmela was just the same age and height as Teresa, and Teresa was at least as beautiful as Carmela.
‘On the evening of the ball, Teresa put on her finest dress, her most expensive pins, her most brilliant glass beads. She was wearing the costume of the women of Frascati. Luigi had on the picturesque clothes worn by a Roman peasant on feast days. Both mingled, as had been agreed, with the waiters and peasants.
‘The feast was splendid. Not only was the villa itself brightly lit, but thousands of coloured lanterns were hanging from the trees in the garden. The guests soon overflowed on to the terraces and then to the alleys in the garden. At each crossroads there was an orchestra, a buffet and refreshments. The strollers paused, a quadrille was formed and they danced wherever the fancy took them.
‘Carmela was dressed as a woman from Sonino. She had a bonnet embroidered with pearls, her hairpins were of gold and diamonds, her belt was of Turkish silk embroidered with large flowers, her coat and her skirt were of cashmere, her apron was of Indian muslin and the buttons on her bodice were precious stones.
‘Two of her companions were dressed in the costumes of women from Nettuno and La Riccia.
‘Four young men from the richest and noblest families in Rome were accompanying them, with that Italian freedom of manner which has no equivalent in any other country in the world; they were dressed as peasants from Albano, Velletri, Civita Castellana and Sora. It goes without saying that their peasant costumes, like those of the women, glittered with gold and precious stones.
‘Carmela had the idea of making them into a uniform quadrille, but they were short of a woman. She looked around, but not one of the other guests had a costume similar to hers and those of her companions. Then the Count de San-Felice showed her Teresa, leaning on Luigi’s arm among the peasant women.
The Count of Monte Cristo Page 45