“The lawsuit2 I must bring against these Barricini villains,” he mused3, “will necessitate4 my going down to Bastia. Why should I not go there with Miss Nevil? And once at Bastia, why shouldn’t we all go together to the springs of Orezza?”
Suddenly his childish recollections of that picturesque5 spot rose up before him. He fancied himself on the verdant6 lawn that spreads beneath the ancient chestnut-trees. On the lustrous7 green sward, studded with blue flowers like eyes that smiled upon him, he saw Miss Lydia seated at his side. She had taken off her hat, and her fair hair, softer and finer than any silk, shone like gold in the sunlight that glinted through the foliage8. Her clear blue eyes looked to him bluer than the sky itself. With her cheek resting on one hand, she was listening thoughtfully to the words of love he poured tremblingly into her ear. She wore the muslin gown in which she had been dressed that last day at Ajaccio. From beneath its folds peeped out a tiny foot, shod with black satin. Orso told himself that he would be happy indeed if he might dare to kiss that little foot—but one of Miss Lydia’s hands was bare and held a daisy. He took the daisy from her, and Lydia’s hand pressed his, and then he kissed the daisy, and then he kissed her hand, and yet she did not chide10 him . . . and all these thoughts prevented him from paying any attention to the road he was travelling, and meanwhile he trotted12 steadily13 onward14. For the second time, in his fancy, he was about to kiss Miss Nevil’s snow-white hand, when, as his horse stopped short, he very nearly kissed its head, in stern reality. Little Chilina had barred his way, and seized his bridle16.
“Where are you going to, Ors’ Anton’?” she said. “Don’t you know your enemy is close by?”
“My enemy!” cried Orso, furious at being interrupted at such a delightful17 moment. “Where is he?”
“Orlanduccio is close by, he’s waiting for you! Go back, go back!”
“Ho! Ho! So he’s waiting for me! Did you see him?”
“Yes, Ors’ Anton’! I was lying down in the heather when he passed by. He was looking round everywhere through his glass.”
“And which way did he go?”
“He went down there. Just where you were going!”
“Thank you!”
“Ors’ Anton’, hadn’t you better wait for my uncle? He must be here soon—and with him you would be safe.”
“If you would let me, I would go in front of you.”
“No, thanks! No, thanks!”
His first impulse had been one of blind fury, and he had told himself that fortune was offering him an excellent opportunity of punishing the coward who had avenged19 the blow he had received by mutilating a horse. But as he moved onward the thought of his promise to the prefect, and, above all, his fear of missing Miss Nevil’s visit, altered his feelings, and made him almost wish he might not come upon Orlanduccio. Soon, however, the memory of his father, the indignity20 offered to his own horse, and the threats of the Barricini, stirred his rage afresh, and incited21 him to seek his foe22, and to provoke and force him to a fight. Thus tossed by conflicting feelings, he continued his progress, though now he carefully scrutinized23 every thicket24 and hedge, and sometimes even pulled up his horse to listen to the vague sounds to be heard in any open country. Ten minutes after he had left little Chilina (it was then about nine o’clock in the morning) he found himself on the edge of an exceedingly steep declivity25. The road, or rather the very slight path, which he was following, ran through a maquis that had been lately burned. The ground was covered with whitish ashes, and here and there some shrubs26, and a few big trees, blackened by the flames, and entirely27 stripped of their leaves, still stood erect—though life had long since departed out of them. The sight of a burned maquis is enough to make a man fancy he has been transported into midwinter in some northern clime, and the contrast between the barrenness of the ground over which the flames have passed, with the luxuriant vegetation round about it, heightens this appearance of sadness and desolation. But at that moment the only thing that struck Orso in this particular landscape was one point—an important one, it is true, in his present circumstances. The bareness of the ground rendered any kind of ambush28 impossible, and the man who has reason to fear that at any moment he may see a gun-barrel thrust out of a thicket straight at his own chest, looks on a stretch of smooth ground, with nothing on it to intercept29 his view, as a kind of oasis30. After this burned maquis came a number of cultivated fields, inclosed, according to the fashion of that country, with breast-high walls, built of dry stones. The path ran between these fields, producing, from a distance, the effect of a thick wood.
The steepness of the declivity made it necessary for Orso to dismount. He was walking quickly down the hill, which was slippery with ashes (he had thrown the bridle on his horse’s neck), and was hardly five-and-twenty paces from one of these stone fences, when, just in front of him, on the right-hand side of the road, he perceived first of all the barrel of a gun, and then a head, rising over the top of the wall. The gun was levelled, and he recognised Orlanduccio, just ready to fire. Orso swiftly prepared for self-defence, and the two men, taking deliberate aim, stared at each other for several seconds, with that thrill of emotion which the bravest must feel when he knows he must either deal death or endure it.
The words were hardly out of his mouth when he saw the flash of Orlanduccio’s gun, and almost at the same instant a second shot rang out on his left from the other side of the path, fired by a man whom he had not noticed, and who was aiming at him from behind another wall. Both bullets struck him. The first, Orlanduccio’s, passed through his left arm, which Orso had turned toward him as he aimed. The second shot struck him in the chest, and tore his coat, but coming in contact with the blade of his dagger32, it luckily flattened33 against it, and only inflicted34 a trifling35 bruise36. Orso’s left arm fell helpless at his side, and the barrel of his gun dropped for a moment, but he raised it at once, and aiming his weapon with his right hand only, he fired at Orlanduccio. His enemy’s head, which was only exposed to the level of the eyes, disappeared behind the wall. Then Orso, swinging round to the left, fired the second barrel at a man in a cloud of smoke whom he could hardly see. This face likewise disappeared. The four shots had followed each other with incredible swiftness; no trained soldiers ever fired their volleys in quicker succession. After Orso’s last shot a great silence fell. The smoke from his weapon rose slowly up into the sky. There was not a movement, not the slightest sound from behind the wall. But for the pain in his arm, he could have fancied the men on whom he had just fired had been phantoms37 of his own imagination.
Fully9 expecting a second volley, Orso moved a few steps, to place himself behind one of the burned trees that still stood upright in the maquis. Thus sheltered, he put his gun between his knees, and hurriedly reloaded it. Meanwhile his left arm began to hurt him horribly, and felt as if it were being dragged down by a huge weight.
What had become of his adversaries38? He could not understand. If they had taken to flight, if they had been wounded, he would certainly have heard some noise, some stir among the leaves. Were they dead, then? Or, what was far more likely, were they not waiting behind their wall for a chance of shooting at him again. In his uncertainty39, and feeling his strength fast failing him, he knelt down on his right knee, rested his wounded arm upon the other, and took advantage of a branch that protruded40 from the trunk of the burned tree to support his gun. With his finger on the trigger, his eye fixed41 on the wall, and his ear strained to catch the slightest sound, he knelt there, motionless, for several minutes, which seemed to him a century. At last, behind him, in the far distance, he heard a faint shout, and very soon a dog flew like an arrow down the slope, and stopped short, close to him, wagging its tail. It was Brusco, the comrade and follower42 of the bandits—the herald43, doubtless, of his master’s approach. Never was any honest man more impatiently awaited. With his muzzle44 in the air, and turned toward the nearest fence, the dog sniffed45 anxiously. Suddenly he gave vent11 to a low growl46, sprang at a bound over the wall, and almost instantly reappeared upon its crest47, whence he gazed steadily at Orso with eyes that spoke48 surprise as clearly as a dog’s may do it. Then he sniffed again, this time toward the other inclosure, the wall of which he also crossed. Within a second he was back on the top of that, with the same air of astonishment49 and alarm, and straightway he bounded into the thicket with his tail between his legs, still gazing at Orso, and retiring from him slowly, and sideways, until he had put some distance between them. Then off he started again, tearing up the slope almost as fast as he had come down it, to meet a man, who, in spite of its steepness, was rapidly descending50.
“Help, Brando!” shouted Orso, as soon as he thought he was within hearing.
“Hallo! Ors’ Anton’! are you wounded?” inquired Brandolaccio, as he ran up panting. “Is it in your body or your limbs?”
“In the arm.”
“The arm—oh, that’s nothing! And the other fellow?”
“I think I hit him.”
Brandolaccio ran after the dog to the nearest field and leaned over to look at the other side of the wall, then pulling off his cap—
“Signor Orlanduccio, I salute51 you!” said he, then turning toward Orso, he bowed to him, also, gravely.
“That,” he remarked, “is what I call a man who has been properly done for.”
“Is he still alive?” asked Orso, who could hardly breathe.
“Oh! he wouldn’t wish it! he’d be too much vexed52 about the bullet you put into his eye! Holy Madonna! What a hole! That’s a good gun, upon my soul! what a weight! That spatters a man’s brains for you! Hark ye, Ors’ Anton’! when I heard the first piff, piff, says I to myself: ‘Dash it, they’re murdering my lieutenant53!’ Then I heard boum, boum. ‘Ha, ha!’ says I, ‘that’s the English gun beginning to talk—he’s firing back.’ But what on earth do you want with me, Brusco?”
The dog guided him to the other field.
“Upon my word,” cried Brandolaccio, utterly54 astonished, “a right and left, that’s what it is! Deuce take it! Clear enough, powder must be dear, for you don’t waste it!”
“What do you mean, for God’s sake?” asked Orso.
“Come, sir, don’t try to humbug55 me; you bring down the dame56, and then you want somebody to pick it up for you. Well! there’s one man who’ll have a queer dessert to-day, and that’s Lawyer Barricini!—you want butcher’s meat, do you? Well, here you have it. Now, who the devil will be the heir?”
“What! is Vincentello dead too?”
“Dead as mutton. Salute a noi! The good point about you is that you don’t let them suffer. Just come over and look at Vincentello; he’s kneeling here with his head against the wall, as if he were asleep. You may say he sleeps like lead, this time, poor devil.”
Orso turned his head in horror.
“Are you certain he’s dead?”
“You’re like Sampiero Corso, who never had to fire more than once. Look at it there, in his chest, on the left—just where Vincileone was hit at Waterloo. I’ll wager57 that bullet isn’t far from his heart—a right and left! Ah! I’ll never talk about shooting again. Two with two shots, and bullets at that! The two brothers! If he’d had a third shot he’d have killed their papa. Better luck next time. What a shot! Ors’ Anton’! And to think that an honest poor chap like me will never get the chance of a right and a left two gendarmes58!”
As he talked the bandit was scanning Orso’s arm, and splitting up his sleeve with his dagger.
“This is nothing,” said he. “But this coat of yours will give Signorina Colomba work to do. Ha! what’s this I see? this gash59 upon your chest? Nothing went in there, surely? No! you wouldn’t be so brisk as you are! Come, try to move your finger. Do you feel my teeth when I bite your little finger? Not very well? Never mind! It won’t be much. Let me take your handkerchief and your neckcloth. Well, your coat’s spoilt, anyhow! What the devil did you make yourself so smart for? Were you going to a wedding? There! drink a drop of wine. Why on earth don’t you carry a flask60? Does any Corsican ever go out without a flask?”
“A right and left! Both of them stone dead! How the Padre will laugh! A right and left! Oh, here’s that little dawdle62 Chilina at last!”
Orso made no reply—he was as pale as death and shaking in every limb.
“Chili!” shouted Brandolaccio, “go and look behind that wall!”
The child, using both hands and feet, scrambled63 onto the wall, and the moment she caught sight of Orlanduccio’s corpse64 she crossed herself.
“That’s nothing,” proceeded the bandit; “go and look farther on, over there!”
The child crossed herself again.
“Was it you, uncle?” she asked timidly.
“Me! Don’t you know I’ve turned into a useless old fellow! This, Chili, is the signor’s work; offer him your compliments.”
“The signorina will be greatly rejoiced,” said Chilina, “and she will be very much grieved to know you are wounded, Ors’ Anton’.”
“Now then, Ors’ Anton’,” said the bandit, when he had finished binding65 up the wound. “Chilina, here, has caught your horse. You must get on his back, and come with me to the Stazzona maquis. It would be a sly fellow who’d lay his hand on you there. When we get to the Cross of Santa Christina, you’ll have to dismount. You’ll give over your horse to Chilina, who’ll go off and warn the signorina. You can say anything to the child, Ors’ Anton’. She would let herself be cut in pieces rather than betray her friends,” and then, fondly, he turned to the little girl, “That’s it, you little hussy; a ban on you, a curse on you—you jade66!” For Brandolaccio, who was superstitious67, like most bandits, feared he might cast a spell on a child if he blessed it or praised it, seeing it is a well-known fact that the mysterious powers that rule the Annocchiatura[*] have a vile habit of fulfilling our wishes in the very opposite sense to that we give them.
[*] Annocchiatura, an involuntary spell cast either by the
eye or by spoken words.
“Faith! you must choose; either to jail or to the maquis. But no della Rebbia knows the path that leads him to the jail. To the maquis, Ors’ Anton’.”
“Farewell, then, to all my hopes!” exclaimed the wounded man, sadly.
“Your hopes? Deuce take it! Did you hope to do any better with a double-barrelled gun? How on earth did the fellows contrive69 to hit you? The rascals70 must have been as hard to kill as cats.”
“They fired first,” said Orso.
“True, true; I’d forgotten that!—piff, piff—boum, boum! A right and left, and only one hand! If any man can do better, I’ll go hang myself. Come! now you’re safely mounted! Before we start, just give a glance at your work. It isn’t civil to leave one’s company without saying good-bye.”
Orso spurred his horse. He would not have looked at the two poor wretches71 he had just destroyed, for anything on earth.
“Hark ye, Ors’ Anton’,” quoth the bandit, as he caught hold of the horse’s bridle, “shall I tell you the truth? Well, no offence to you! I’m sorry for those poor young fellows! You’ll pardon me, I hope; so good-looking, so strong, so young. Orlanduccio, I’ve shot with him so often! Only four days ago he gave me a bundle of cigars, and Vincentello—he was always so cheery. Of course you’ve only done what you had to do, and indeed the shot was such a splendid one, nobody could regret it. But I, you see, had nothing to do with your vengeance72. I know you’re perfectly73 in the right. When one has an enemy one must get rid of him. But the Barricini were an old family. Here’s another of them wiped out, and by a right and left too! It’s striking.”
As he thus spoke his funeral oration74 over the Barricini, Brandolaccio hastily guided Orso, Chilina, and Brusco, the dog, toward the Stazzona maquis.
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1
prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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lawsuit
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| n.诉讼，控诉 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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necessitate
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| v.使成为必要，需要 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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verdant
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| adj.翠绿的，青翠的，生疏的，不老练的 | |
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lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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chide
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| v.叱责；谴责 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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chili
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| n.辣椒 | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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17
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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avenged
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| v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的过去式和过去分词 )；为…报复 | |
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indignity
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| n.侮辱，伤害尊严，轻蔑 | |
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incited
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| 刺激，激励，煽动( incite的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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scrutinized
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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declivity
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| n.下坡，倾斜面 | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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intercept
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| vt.拦截，截住，截击 | |
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oasis
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| n.（沙漠中的）绿洲，宜人的地方 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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bruise
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| n.青肿，挫伤；伤痕；vt.打青；挫伤 | |
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phantoms
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| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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adversaries
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| n.对手，敌手( adversary的名词复数 ) | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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protruded
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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45
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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46
growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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48
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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51
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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52
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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53
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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humbug
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| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
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56
dame
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| n.女士 | |
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57
wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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58
gendarmes
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| n.宪兵，警官( gendarme的名词复数 ) | |
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59
gash
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| v.深切，划开；n.(深长的)切(伤)口；裂缝 | |
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flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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62
dawdle
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| vi.浪费时间；闲荡 | |
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63
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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64
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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65
binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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66
jade
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| n.玉石；碧玉；翡翠 | |
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67
superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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68
queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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69
contrive
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| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
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70
rascals
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| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
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71
wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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72
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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73
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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oration
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| n.演说，致辞，叙述法 | |
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