Corleone: A Tale of Sicily

ental but passionate man finds himself when he is leaving the woman he loves in order to go and do so

to Camaldoli, and it was perfectly clear that he anticipated trouble. Orsino was surprised to find that he expected to have four or five carabineers permanently quartered at Camaldoli, by way o

on, hour after hour, he grew more silent, not wondering at himself, but accepting quite simply the fact that it hurt him to leave Vittoria far behind, and that he longed for her presence more and more. He could not help thinking how easy it woul

the tables were full, and many of the people were talking in the Maltese dialect, which is an astonishing compound of Italian and Arabic, perfectly incomprehensible both to Arabs and Italians. They stared at San Giacinto because he was a gi

ure at certain times, and the shadowy land, the rising moon, the gleaming ripple of the water, and the evening breeze on his face, brought Vittoria more vividly than ever to his mind. He looked up at San Giacinto, and even the latter's massive and

told him, with grim indifference, if Orsino had unburdened his heart at that moment. But he did not mean to do that. He leaned over the rail and smoked in silence, looking from the moon to the rippling water and back again, and wishing that the night we

said. 'Never to marry a Sicilian girl, and always to

I do not see why you should not take a Sicilian w

ni?' enquired Orsino, startled to find hims

women. She died of unhappiness, I believe, and I do not wonder. Have you noticed that none of the Campodonico will have anything to do with them? Even old Donna Francesca-you know?-the saint who lives in the Palazzetto Borgia-she told your mother that she hoped never to know a Corleone by sight ag

through Vittoria; for, in that case, he would have quarrelled with his cousin forthwith, not being of a patient disposition. As it was, the you

aid Orsino, 'I should not car

mit that the girl has charm and some beauty, and it is only fools who need clever wives to think for them. G

d a cabin together, and he found the old giant asleep on the sofa, wrapped in a cloak, with his long legs resting on a portmanteau and extending half across the available space, while he had widened the transom for his vast shoulders by the help of a camp stool. He slept soundly, almo

and Orsino sat down in a shabby and dirty room to drink certain vile coffee which was brought up to them on little brass trays from a café at the corner of the street. San Giacinto produced a silver flask and poured a dose of sp

g and most of the afternoon in making the necessary arrangements. It was indispensable to see the officer in command of the car

is there to hand the p

zzo, as his brother, being displeased with the sale, would probably refuse to meet us. Basili

ked the place up and left it without e

make our own coffee and cook our own food. It is rather a lonely neighbourho

served Orsino. 'I suppose we s

us till they are relieved by others. They will all be waiting at the town of Piedimonte, above the station. I

ensible to have broug

into the way when

over the water, at the end of the town towards the Faro. It was evidently the fashionable resort at that time of the year, and Orsino studied the faces of the guests at the other tables. He thought th

, passed himself off for a carabineer, and arrested the bailiff of the Duca di Fornasco that night, and marched him out of the village. They carried him off to the woods, and he has not been heard of s

ively true?' asked Orsi

said it was quite exact. You see the rifles may be useful, after all,

st, as they generally do, standing to their long oars and throwing their whole strength into the work, for they were late, and the current would turn against them when the moon rose, as everyone knows who lives in Messina. Orsino did not remember that he had ever seen just such types of men, bare-headed, dark as Arabs, square-jawed,

single Sicilian, by Crispi. Good or bad, he is a man, at all events-and those fellows are men. I would rather hav

treacherous,'

ther like one man. Successful revolution is always called patriotism, and unsuccessful rebellion is always branded as treachery or tre

as naturally pessimistic. 'Italian unity has come too

miled rather c

he answered. 'You want the clear win

same name, you and

what I am, if I had

eyes kindling a little at th

u are a product, whereas I was forced to become a producer when I was very young-a worker, in other words. Socially, I am a Saracinesca, like you; morally and actually, I have been a man of the people all my life, because I began among the people. I have made myself what I am. You were made w

once,' said Ors

But you had the instinct, just as I have it. You and I have more in common with those fishermen who just

nd he saw the truth of much that his cousin had said, and felt a hopelessn

through the gathering dusk. To the right, the royal yards and top-gallant rigging of the vessels in the harbour made a dark lace against the high, white houses that caught the departing twilight. It was near moonrise, and the breeze had almost died away. The lights of the city began to shine o

was growing chilly. San Giacinto did the same and lighted a cigar. They sat almos