Piccinino

“ Tell me, my boy, have you never heard of the Piccinino and his band since you have been in Sicily?"
"It seems to me that I have. Yes, yes, uncle, my sister Mila has some fantastic stories about this Piccinino, who is the principal subject of conversation among the young silk-weavers of Catania. He is a redoubtable brigand, they say, who kidnaps women and kills men at the very gates of the city. I have never believed these fables."
"There is some truth at the bottom of all the popular legends," rejoined the monk. "The Piccinino exists and plies his trade. ”

“ These words were at once harsh and flattering to the Piccinino's sensitive self-love. The criticism of his past life cut him to the quick, but the favorable judgment concerning his capacity for usefulness in the future healed the wound. He blushed, turned pale, reflected and understood. He was too intelligent to contend against the truth. Agatha and Michel affectionately took his hands, and begged him on their knees to accept half of a fortune the whole of which they owed to him. Tears of pride, hope, joy, and perhaps of gratitude as well, started from his glistening eyes, and he accepted. ”

“ Lord God! you will die of the heat. Our roads are so rough! Come to the house; I will pour the first glass for you, and then I will go, as your lordship kindly permits me to do so."
"My cousin will not go away until you are in the house," said Mila, in obedience to a meaning glance from the Piccinino.
The abbé, seeing that he could not get rid of his obsequious host except by complying with his wish, passed through the arbor without an opportunity to address a word or a glance to Mila; for the Piccinino, still playing the part of a respectful peasant and zealous host, walked between them. ”

“ The Piccinino had never seen a beautiful woman without being disturbed and restless until he had examined her carefully, in order that he might cease to think of her if her beauty was imperfect, or cast his net over her if her style of beauty succeeded in inflaming his disdainful heart, a strange compound of love and indolence, energy and torpor. Few men of twenty-five have lived so chaste and self-restrained a life as the bandit of Ætna ”

“ At the end of the ventilating corridor, which ran from end to end of the upper floor, he opened a double door, the inner one being bound with iron, and ushered Mila into the truncated tower which he had incorporated into his house, so to speak, and where he had fitted up a dainty and mysterious boudoir.
No princess ever possessed one more sumptuous, more sweetly perfumed or adorned with rarer objects. But no artisan had ever put his hand to it. The Piccinino himself had concealed the walls beneath hangings of Oriental silk stitched with gold and silver. ”

“ I cannot see you any more," said Magnani, feeling for his friend with trembling hands. "We are safe here, aren't we? at the gates of Catania, of course? You will soon embrace your mother! Ah! yes, I hear the murmur of the naiad; the sound revives me; the water flows into my wound—cold as ice, but very soothing."
"Live to see my mother and sister!" cried Michel. "Ah! you shall live, we will never part!"
"Alas! I know what that smile means," said the Piccinino in an undertone, examining Magnani's blue distorted lips; "do not let him talk any more." ”

“ I am surprised to find nothing against your father, Mila. Ah! yes, here it is! The signor abbé's measures were all taken to strike his great blow. This evening Pier-Angelo Lavoratori and—Fra Angelo too!—Ah! you reckoned without your host, my friend! You did not know that the Piccinino will never allow a finger to be laid on that shaven head! How ill-informed you were! Why, Mila, this man, whom people look upon as a monster of iniquity, is nothing but an idiot, upon my word! ”

“ Do not think that the Piccinino is worse than other men. He was born calm and long-suffering; but there are virtues which would become vices in us Sicilians, if we should cling to them. Reason and a sense of justice taught him to be a scourge at need. But you see that his heart is sound at bottom. He is very angry with your mother, you told me, and you dreaded his vengeance. You see that he absolves her from the crime which certainly never occurred to that saint-like woman's mind; you see that he does homage to truth, even in the heat of his anger ”

“ He concluded that the nobility could not do without wealth: a marvellous discovery which fatigued him much.
At that moment, as the beak of a great pelican of gilded wood, which did duty as hour hand on a monumental clock in the gallery of the Della Serra palace, marked four o'clock in the afternoon, the Piccinino was thinking that his five or six repeating watches must be slow, so impatiently did he await Mila's arrival. ”

“ But if you will deign to be seated a moment and listen to me, I shall be able to explain my ideas without fear of abusing the patience with which you honor me."
"On my word!" thought Agatha, as she took a seat at some distance from the Piccinino, "this man's persistence is like destiny, inevitable."
"I shall soon have finished," continued the Piccinino, with a crafty smile, when he saw that she was seated at last. "I look after my own interests while looking after other people's, that is true; but every man understands the advantages of life as circumstances impel him to do. ”

“ Agatha had conquered. The bandit's head was completely turned, and another passion, which was contending with greed in his heart, gained the upper hand in a twinkling. He put both of the signora's trembling hands to his lips and bestowed upon them a kiss so long and so passionate that Michel and the marquis himself shuddered. Another hope than that of wealth took possession of the Piccinino's brain. A violent passion had sprung to life within him on the night of the ball, when he saw her admired and coveted by so many men whom she did not even deign to notice, himself included ”

“ Michel saw that the Capuchin had touched the right chord at last; for when he was appealed to as the son of the Prince of Castro-Reale, a title which nobody dared or chose to give him openly, the Piccinino started, sat up and sprang to his feet as if he were ready to start at once. But suddenly he put his hand to his leg and fell back on the couch.
"It is impossible," he said, "I am in too much pain."
"What is the matter?" asked Fra Angelo. "Are you wounded? Is that spent ball of last year still troubling you? In the old days we used to march with bullets in our bodies. ”

“ I talked to him during the ball, on the main staircase, and the Marquis della Serra, who was escorting me, complimented him, as I did myself, upon his paintings. From that moment down to this very evening Michel had never seen me; ask himself! You are not a man whom one can deceive, captain; use your perspicacity, and I will trust it."
The Piccinino quivered with pleasure at this concise declaration, made with the assurance which truth alone can give, and he pressed Agatha's hand against his breast with such force that she detected his sentiments at last. ”

“ Mila had been his nurse, and Mila had chained the tiger. She was proud of it, with good reason, and she was naturally very proud. The love of Captain Piccinino relieved her in her own eyes from the blemish upon her pride due to Magnani's desertion. She was brave too. She felt that she was born for a more difficult and more brilliant destiny than spinning silk. Her heroic and poetic instincts were exceedingly well adapted to a life full of danger and excitement. ”

“ In all times, alas! the sparrow has yielded to the fascination of the vulture.
In all this the Piccinino gave way to an inborn passion for increasing the difficulties of an adventure to his profit, or simply for amusement. To be sure, he had no better way of enticing Abbé Ninfo to his house than by offering a bait to his lust. But he might well have chosen some other woman than the innocent Mila to play, with the aid of some slight resemblance or of a similar costume, the part of the person who was to appear in his garden. ”

“ Carmelo replied, in an outburst of fierce anger with himself. "I should no longer suffer, and I should be mourned; whereas now I shall suffer all my life and nobody will mourn for me!"
"Is this your gratitude for your brother's self-sacrificing devotion, my friend?" said the monk, throwing the bullet on the ground.
"Brother," rejoined the Piccinino, putting Michel's hand to his lips, "you did not do it from affection for me, I know; you did it for your own honor. But you are revenged for my hatred; for you continue to hate me, and I am doomed to love you!" ”

“ Instead of walking up the mountain, with folded arms, to see this body lying in a corner and the Piccinino flying among the precipices, we should all be together, rifle in hand, fighting desperately against the Swiss mercenaries of Naples, and perhaps marching on Catania with the yellow flag flaunting its golden folds in the morning breeze! Yes, everything would be better so, I tell you, Prince of Castro-Reale!—But God's will be done!" added Fra Angelo, remembering at last that he was a monk. ”

“ Could so young a maid risk a tête-à-tête of this sort without a moment of fear or embarrassment?
The Piccinino, observing that she had a very beautiful ring on her finger, and thinking that he could follow the thread of her thoughts by following the direction of her glances, said to her, with a smile: "You love jewels, my dear Mila, and, like all girls, you think more of personal adornment than of anything else in this world. My mother left me a few trinkets of some value, which are in that lapis lazuli casket by your side. ”

“ Have you a lover?"
"A lover? no, monsignor," replied Mila, blushing crimson; but she added, without hesitation: "I may tell you, however, that there is a man whom I love."
"Where is he now?"
"In Catania."
"Is he rich—well-born?"
"He has a noble heart and two stout arms."
"And he loves you as you deserve to be loved?"
"That does not concern you, monsignor; I will not answer that question."
"However, you came here at the risk of losing his love?"
"As you see, alas!" said Mila, with a sigh.
"O women! are you really so much nobler than we men?" exclaimed the Piccinino, rising. ”

“ Farewell for the present, Michelangelo Lavoratori!"
"I tell you that he is your brother!" repeated the princess, earnestly; "your father's son and not Pier-Angelo's; the son of a woman whom you cannot insult by your contempt, and who could not have listened to you without committing a crime and an act of madness. Do you not understand me?"
"No, signora," said the Piccinino, with a shrug; "I cannot understand the fables that come to your mind at this moment to save your lover's life. If this poor boy is my father's son, so much the worse for him ”

“ They did not know what ailed them, but by that strange tie which unites the actor with his audience, the vague and bitter pain in me communicated itself to them, and they wept where they had mocked, they sorrowed where they had scoffed.
"What possessed you, Piccinino?" my comrades said to me, clustering around when the piece was over. "Who could have thought you had it in you? A part like that, too! Why, the people cried like children—all of them, old and young. What could possess you, eh?" ”

“ He leaped at Michel with the agility of a wild animal. But, quick and nimble as his movement was, the miraculous power of love made Agatha even quicker than he. She rushed to intercept the blow, and would have received it in her breast had not the Piccinino thrust the dagger into his sleeve so swiftly that it seemed as if his hand had always been empty.
"What are you doing, signora?" he said. "I do not propose to murder your lover but to fight with him. You do not wish it? Very good! You protect him with your breast! ”

“ Being certain that the Piccinino must have left the valley long before the hour named in the inscription as that of the murder, Michel and the monk went no farther, but retraced their steps from that wild spot where the abbé's corpse would be at the mercy of the vulture for some hours to come, before anyone would interrupt his ghastly feast. As they turned away, they saw the ill-omened bird fly over their heads, returning with savage eagerness to his prey.
"That is the fate you deserved," said the monk, calmly; "to be eaten by dogs and vultures! ”

“ The Piccinino's situation and the circumstances of his capture were as follows. The murder of Abbé Ninfo had been executed and proclaimed with an insane audacity altogether contrary to the young chief's habitual prudence. To kill a man, and to boast of it by an inscription left upon the very spot where the crime was committed, instead of concealing his body and removing every trace of the deed—a very simple matter in a region like that of Ætna—was certainly a desperate performance, a sort of challenge hurled at destiny in a moment of frantic excitement. ”

“ He was beginning to discover that one can suffer for other causes than anger and ennui. As he lay awake, he watched Michel without his knowledge. He saw him sit down at his table and take his head in his hands, in an attitude of the most complete discouragement.
Michel was profoundly depressed. All his dreams had vanished like smoke. His situation seemed to him sufficiently elucidated by the conversation he had had with the bandit as they returned from the villa. To test him, the Piccinino had repeated Abbé Ninfo's calumnies, pretending to believe them and generously to take Michel's part. ”

“ But the real Piccinino, the one who styles himself the justicier d'aventure, and who directs all the operations of the brigands of the mountain; the man whom nobody knows and as to whom, if he should be captured, it would be impossible to prove that he had ever been the leader or a member of the band, is a handsome, well-educated, eloquent, dissipated and cunning young man; the same Carmelo Tomabene with whom you talked at the fountain."
Mila was so thunderstruck that she almost determined not to go on with her story. ”