At this, the herdsman fell to laughing softly to himself, murmuring words of half-mocking reproach addressed to Aunt Anna-Rosa. On a sudden, however, his face grew black; the sombre figure of Aunt Bachissia appeared in the doorway; she had heard her daughter's angry voice resounding through the stillness of the evening, and had come at once.

"Here," said Aunt Martina, perfectly unmoved, "is your daughter, gone mad to all appearances."

Brontu, completely sobered, was signing urgently to his mother-in-law to come forward and try to calm the furious woman, and Aunt Bachissia was about to do so when Giacobbe suddenly leaped to his feet and threw himself in front of her with an ugly scowl.

"Get out of here!" he ordered, pointing to the door.

"And are you the master?" asked Aunt Bachissia ironically.

"Get out, I tell you," he repeated, and, as she continued to advance, he laid hold of her.

She shook him off, and he went out himself instead, and, sitting down on the portico, tried to laugh; but, odd to relate, instead of laughter, he presently found himself shaking all over with dry, convulsive sobs.

FOOTNOTE:

[6] In Sardinia, farm labourers often own cattle which are either turned out with their master's herds (whose partners they thus, in a manner, become), or are confided to some other shepherd, who receives half the profits in return for looking after them.

CHAPTER XIII

Time pa.s.sed on. The sky and weather changed with the changing seasons, but among the inhabitants of the little village all remained much as usual. In the course of the winter Giovanna gave birth to a weak, puling girl-baby, which did nothing but cry. Doctor Porra, or Pededda, as he still continued to be called, came all the way from Nuoro expressly to stand for the poor little creature. He arrived in a carriage, bundled up like a bale of clothing, his rosy face beaming as usual. Quite a number of persons had a.s.sembled to see him, and he distributed smiles and greetings indiscriminately to all who would have them, a.s.suring a group of Brontu's friends who had gone to meet him, that he remembered perfectly seeing all of them at Nuoro. This gratified them immensely, all but one, that is, who said he had never been to Nuoro. "It is of no consequence," said the lawyer cheerfully, "I am sure to see you there some day." This was a somewhat equivocal a.s.surance, as it seldom happened that any of them went to Nuoro except on law business; however, the man was highly pleased.

Aunt Bachissia, watching the new arrival divest himself of his greatcoat, shawl, and various other wraps, thought that he looked more than ever like a _magia_.

"You seem to have grown stouter," she said, looking at the layers of clothing.

"Oh! this is a mere nothing," he replied. At which they all laughed delightedly.

The baptism was to be conducted with great pomp, and Aunt Martina, probably for the first time in her life, slackened the strings of her purse, and sent to Nuoro for wines and sweets of the best quality. She could not sleep the night before, however, and pa.s.sed a wretched day, tormented by the fear that some of the delicacies might be spirited away. On the morning of the ceremony Giovanna got up early and helped her mother-in-law to prepare the macaroni for dinner; then she went back to bed, where she remained in a sitting posture, propped up by pillows, and with the bedclothes drawn up about her waist. Above that she wore her blouse and bodice, and she had on her wedding coif and bridal kerchief. She looked somewhat pale, but very handsome, her great eyes seeming larger even than usual.

The table was set in the bedchamber, and covered with a linen cloth, which Aunt Martina now took out from her chest for the first time since it had been bought.

The ceremony was to take place at about eleven o'clock of a very cold morning. From the pale sky a thick, white vapour fell, enveloping the village and all the surrounding country in a misty veil. The narrow streets were deserted, and here and there frozen puddles lay like pieces of broken, dirty gla.s.s. An absolute silence reigned in the open s.p.a.ce before the Dejases' house, opposite which the almond tree stretched its bare, black limbs against the misty background.

All at once the common was invaded by a troop of urchins, bundled up in ragged garments and odds and ends of fur; with fringed, red caps on their heads, and wearing old boots, some of them almost as large as the little persons who wore them. Groups of people stood about, princ.i.p.ally shivering women, coughing and sneezing and smelling of soot and smoke.

Then the baptismal procession appeared. First came two children looking solemn and important, and carrying candles from which red ribbons fluttered; these were followed by the woman with the infant wrapped in shawls, and covered with a piece of greenish brocade, like the standard of San Costantino.

Then the G.o.dfather appeared, his round little face rosy and smiling as ever, emerging from the folds of his big coat and black-and-white shawl. With him walked the G.o.dmother, one of Aunt Martina's daughters, a lank young woman with a long, narrow face, who reminded one of a shadow seen at sunset. She had to lean down in order to reach her companion's ear. With the G.o.dparents came Brontu, freshly shaven and gay, and behind them followed a group of friends and relatives, marching along in step, with a noise like the tramp of horses' hoofs. Last of all came the G.o.dmother's servant-maid, a shivering creature blue with cold; she carried a small basin under one arm, and kept both hands buried in the pockets of her gown. From time to time she thrust out her tongue to catch the drops that kept running down from her nose. The boys trotted alongside, forming two wings to the procession, their eyes eagerly fixed upon the G.o.dfather, who returned their gaze with an amused stare and hailed them jocosely:

"Why, h.e.l.lo! you here? What are you looking for, little hedgehogs?"

"He's lame," said one.

"Hush, keep quiet, or he won't give us anything!"

The procession pa.s.sed on; the faces of the urchins fell; some of them were angry, and others seemed on the verge of tears.

"Crippl----" one began to call, but stopped suddenly. The G.o.dfather had pitched a handful of copper coins into the air, and the whole troop flung themselves after them, yelling, tumbling over one another, pushing, fighting, struggling, rolling over and over, almost upsetting the maid-servant, who instantly began to deal out blows and curses in greater proportion even than the coins themselves. Fresh handfuls of money and renewed scuffling by an ever-increasing crowd of ragam.u.f.fins continued to the very doors of the church, where Priest Elias stood awaiting the party and listening to something the red-robed sacristan was urging upon him. The sacristan was, in fact, afraid that Priest Elias, with his usual kindly indulgence, might be persuaded to return to the house with the baptismal party, whereas it was the custom of the neighbourhood for the priest to do that only in cases where the parents had been united by religious ceremony: he was, therefore, exhorting the other to practise severity with Brontu, with the G.o.dparents, with the whole company in fact. "Your Honour," said he, "will surely not return to the house with this infant? Why, it is almost illegitimate! On no account should such respect be paid to it."

"Go and see if they are coming," said the priest.

"They are not in sight yet. No, your Honour will not go."

"And how about you? Shall you not go?" enquired the priest with a slight smile.

"Oh! with me it is an altogether different matter; I go on account of the sweetmeats, not to do honour to that rabble."

At this moment the company came in sight, and the ceremony presently began. No sooner had the baby's bald little red head been uncovered than it began to emit sounds like the bleating of a hoa.r.s.e kid. The G.o.dfather stood by smiling, with a lighted taper in his hand, doing his best to remember the creed, Giovanna having implored him to recite it conscientiously, so that the baptism might be valid.

Almost the entire crowd of urchins had followed the party inside the church, and there was a pattering like rats running about, as the sacristan would chase them all out, only presently to come stealing back.

The woman who had carried the baby, and the maid-servant with the basin, seated themselves on the steps of a side altar, where they anxiously awaited the G.o.dfather's present. At last the service was over, the tips had been given, the baby wrapped up again, and Brontu and his friends stood waiting awkwardly for the priest, who had gone into the sacristy to remove his robes. Would he come back or not? Was he going to the house with the newly baptised infant or no? There was an uncomfortable pause, and then, as he did not appear, the procession set out somewhat mournfully on the return journey, followed by the triumphant sacristan, to whom Brontu would dearly have liked to administer blows in place of the expected sweets.

All along the route the people came out to see them go by, and many faces, especially those of the women, lighted up with ill-natured smiles as they perceived that the priest was not there. Poh! It was like the baptism of a b.a.s.t.a.r.d!

Giovanna, albeit not really expecting the priest, grew a shade paler when the company invaded her chamber without him. She kissed the little purple creature sadly, feeling as though the outlook for the poor child was very dark indeed.

"I remembered every word of the creed from beginning to end," announced the G.o.dfather. "Happy mother, your child will be a wonder, as tall as its G.o.dmother and as gay as its G.o.dfather!"

"If only it may be as prosperous as its G.o.dfather," murmured Giovanna.

"And now," cried the young man, joyously clapping his hands, "come to dinner. What a pleasant custom it is! Upon my honour, it is a charming custom!" And he clapped his hands again, as though calling a crowd of children.

They all took their places at table, where the macaroni, which had already been served, was to be followed by a beautiful roast pig exhaling an odour of rosemary.

It was only a few days after the baptism that a strange though not unprecedented event occurred in Orlei.

Near Isidoro Pane's hut was an ancient dungheap, abandoned for so long that it had become almost petrified. It was covered with a growth of sickly-looking vegetation, and emitted no odour, looking like some sort of artificial mound.

One evening at about dusk, while the fisherman was preparing his supper, he heard sounds in the direction of this mound, and went to the door to see what they were. The weather was cold, and in the clear, greenish twilight he saw a group of black figures, chiefly women, advancing, singing to the accompaniment of some instrument.

Isidoro understood what it was and went to meet them. The women, about twenty in all, old and young, were chanting in a melancholy monotone, with sudden breaks and changes, a weird song or exorcism against the bite of a tarantula; while a blind beggar, a pallid young man, miserably clad in soiled and ragged woman's clothing, accompanied them on a primitive instrument called a _serraia_--a sort of cithern, made out of a dried sow's bladder.

There were only three other men in the party, and in one of these, with a flushed, feverish face, and one hand bound up, the fisherman recognised Giacobbe Dejas.

Isidoro advanced, and joining the party laid one finger on the bandaged hand, Giacobbe, meanwhile, gazing at him wildly, his eyes transfixed with terror.

"Are you afraid you are going to die from a tarantula bite? No, no,"

said Isidoro, smiling.

The women continued their chant. There were seven widows, seven wives, and seven maids. One of the widows was Giacobbe's sister. She walked at his side, fresh and pink as ever, notwithstanding her wild state of alarm and anxiety; and her shrill little voice, like the note of a lively cricket, trilled and trembled high above all the others.

"He is suffering," said one of the men to Isidoro in a low tone.