The Miracles of Antichrist

im! If he had not been one of the old Alagonas people would have let him starve to death. He was only a child, and ha

always heard that all his relatives were dead. But Father Josef insisted that it was a real Signora, who was his relative and wished to take him

aid that he could not let her depart without seeing him, and he half dragged Gaetano into the reception-room. There she stood by one of the windows. She had gray hair; her skin was br

aw Gaetano. “God be praised, he is a true

se who had got a prize. It was a half-year ago now, but it was a long journey to Palermo. She had had to save and save to get the money for the journey. She had not been able to come before. But she had to come and see him. Santissima madre, she had been so glad! It was she, Donn

Chiaro. Do you know

N

eyebrows and loo

2

on Etna, if you k

that Gaetano should know anything about Etna. And the

d Monte Chiaro?” she asked briskly. “Etna you must see. It is the greatest mountain in the world. Etna i

out Etna. She thought perha

s about its waist, and that it stood in orange groves up to its knees. And down it ran broad, black rivers. Those streams were wonderful; they flowed without a ripple; they heaved

te on it, and fourteen great forests, and two hundred small peaks, which were not so small either, although Etna was so big that they seemed as insignificant as a swar

cold that any one who drank of it would die. There were rivers which flowed only by day, and others that flowed onl

t in the morning and evening, when it was red; he ought to see it at night, when it was white. He ought also to know that it truly could take every color; that it could be blue, black, br

riding over the mountain, three of his mules ran away, and the men who followed them found them in the cave with King Arthur. Then the king asked the guides to tell the bishop that when his wounds were he

t be a little friendly. She was still standing, but now he fetched her

ermo, that only stood where it stood. Etna could smoke like a chimney and blow out fire like a gas jet. It could rumble, shake, vomit forth lava, throw st

as called Mongibello because that meant the mou

o many wrinkles in her face, and when she laughed, they ran together like a net. He

g with many heads. There was also a big forge and a lame smith with only one eye in the middle of his forehead. And worst of all, in the very heart of the mountain

lisa said that it feared many saints, but most Santa Agata of Catania. If the Catanians al

verything she said. How had he come there and why co

I am going to be a monk.”—“Oh, are you?” she said. Then wit

mountain so far down that they were near the castle of Catania, and there he would see a valley, a quite big and wide oval valley. But

es. Could he understand that all the serpents and dragons and witches that lay and boiled in the lava ran out with it when there was an eruption? There they lay and crawled and crept and

es, on its head, and on its elbows. It came up the sides of the valley and down the sides of the valley; it was all thorns and knots; it had a cloak of spider’s-web and a wig of dust, and as many joints a

where than it must have almond trees near it. Almond trees are fine and shining signoras. They hardly dare to go out on the black surface, but that does not help them. Out they must, and out they are. Oh, Gaetano should s

o. It stood right up. It had never thought of either sitting or lying. And Monte Chiaro was[32] as green as the valley was black. It was palm next palm

But what should he do with it? Perhaps pat it. If he tried quite gently with one finger, perhaps she would not notice it. Perhaps she would not

shed to say. And nothing so dr

d looked over the edge of the valley. What, what! was the last day come? The town in great haste took i

was no time for anything else. No one could ask anything better than crowding and disorder and crooked streets. No, that you could not. The chief street went in a spiral round the mountain, just as the town had run, and along it had set down here a

n, and show him what stretches of land the old Alagonas had owned on Etna, and on the plain of Catania, and where they had r

Father Josef seemed to be impatient. “Now we have come

azzo Geraci, but it was big; and when the old Alagonas were prosperous they came there in summer to be nearer the snows of Etna. Yes, as she said, towards the street it was nothing to see, but it had a beautiful court-y

on her knees when she was at home. Perhaps she would not[34] notice if he should al

clocks like small white alabaster temples that stood on black ebony pedestals. In the state apartment no one lived, but she would go there with him. Perhaps he had thought that she lived in the summe

ul that she did not notice anything. And it was fortunate, for otherwise

lush flamed up in her cheeks under all the brown, and she made a few of the f

sef, there was not much profit in such a trade now-a-days, however it may have been formerly.[35] Behind the shop there was a little workshop. There her husband had stood and carved images of the saints, and rosary beads; for he had been an artist, Signor Antonelli. And next to the workshop we

could permit himself to pat her. He looked under his hair at Father Josef. Father Josef sat and looked on the fl

ell, never gave himself time to stand still in the workshop; he was always out in the garden, looking after the flowers. Yes, they had a little garden among the stones on Monte Chiaro. But he need not think it was worth anything. She had nothing like the one in the cloister, that Gaetano would understand. But she wanted so much to ha

was the prior’s wish, Father Josef said, that Gaetano should decide for himself. And th

But to answer! That was not such an easy thing to

e allowed to answer in a couple of hours, Gaetano. The boy has never

a, and tried to look glad, but

. They were gone now, but they were not forgotten. Ever since that time Diamante was a holy town. More festival days were celebrated there than anywhere else, and there were quantities of saints; and even to-day crowd

3

osef had expected it, but he could not. When he thought of the great Mongibello that he never would see, and of Donna Elisa, who would never come again, and

began to cry. It was too bad about Donna Elisa. Oh, that she should

d he hid his face against the wa

mself, as he always did. When he came up to G

lo,” said Father Josef; “no

d him by weepin

the whole earth; it has all the earth’s beauty and charm and vegetation

earth stretched out strong arms to catch him. He felt that he ne

uld only be longing for it if he stayed in the monastery. If he is all

he felt himself lifted into his arms, carried back into

won him,” said Father Josef. “You shall show him

t it was impossible for him to run away from her again. He was as much capture

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