Vendetta - Page 218/293

What fairer fate could a man desire?--what life more certain to keep health in the body and peace in the mind? Could I not help him to his happiness, I wondered? I, who had grown stern with long brooding upon my vengeance--could I not aid in bringing joy to others! If I could, my mind would be somewhat lightened of its burden--a burden grown heavier since Guide's death, for from his blood had sprung forth a new group of Furies, that lashed me on to my task with scorpion whips of redoubled wrath and passionate ferocity. Yet if I could do one good action now--would it not be as a star shining in the midst of my soul's storm and darkness? Just then Lilla laughed--how sweetly!--the laugh of a very young child. What amused her now? I looked, and saw that she had taken the ax from Vincenzo, and lifting it in her little hands, was endeavoring bravely to imitate his strong and telling stroke; he meanwhile stood aside with an air of smiling superiority, mingled with a good deal of admiration for the slight active figure arrayed in the blue kirtle and scarlet bodice, on which the warm rays of the late sun fell with so much amorous tenderness. Poor little Lilla! A penknife would have made as much impression as her valorous blows produced on the inflexible, gnarled, knotty old stump she essayed to split in twain. Flushed and breathless with her efforts, she looked prettier than ever, and at last, baffled, she resigned her ax to Vincenzo, laughing gayly at her incapacity for wood-cutting, and daintily shaking her apron free from the chips and dust, till a call from her mother caused her to run swiftly into the house, leaving Vincenzo working away as arduously as ever. I went up to him; he saw me approaching, and paused in his labors with an air of slight embarrassment.

"You like this sort of work, amico?" I said, gently.

"An old habit, eccellenza--nothing more. It reminds me of the days of my youth, when I worked for my mother. Ah! a pleasant place it was--the old home just above Fiesole." His eyes grew pensive and sad. "It is all gone now--finished. That was before I became a soldier. But one thinks of it sometimes."

"I understand. And no doubt you would be glad to return to the life of your boyhood?"

He looked a little startled.

"Not to leave YOU, eccellenza!"

I smiled rather sadly. "Not to leave ME? Not if you wedded Lilla Monti?"