"That is true; we had better allow ourselves an hour and a half at least."
"In that case you have no time to lose," said Madame de Franchi, as she glanced at the clock.
"Mother," said Lucien as he rose, "you will excuse our leaving you, will you not?"
She extended her hand to him, and the young man kissed it with the same respect as he had previously done.
Then turning to me, Lucien said
"If you prefer to finish your supper quietly, and to smoke your cigar afterwards"
"No, no!" I cried; "hang it, you have promised me a bandit, and I must have one."
"Well, then, let us take our guns and be off."
I bowed respectfully to Madame de Franchi, and we left the room, preceded by Griffo, who carried a light.
Our preparations did not occupy us very long.
I clasped a travelling belt round my waist, from which was suspended a sort of huntingknife, and in the folds of which I carried powder and ball.
Lucien soon reappeared with his cartridge case, and carrying a doublebarrelled Manton, and a sort of peaked cap, woven for him by some Penelope of Sullacaro.
"Shall I go with your Excellency?" asked Griffo.
"No, it will be useless," replied Lucien; "but you may as well loose Diamond, as we might put up a pheasant, and the moon is so clear we should be able to shoot as well as in daylight."
An instant afterwards a great spaniel bounded out, and jumped joyously around its master.
We had not gone many paces from the house when Lucien turned round and said
"Bytheby, Griffo, tell them if they hear any shots on the mountain that it is we who have fired them."
"Very well, your Excellency."
"If we did not take some such precautions," said Lucien, "they would think that hostilities had recommenced, and we should soon hear our shots echoing in the streets of Sullacaro. A little farther on you will see a footpath to the right that will lead us directly up the mountain."
Chapter VI
ALTHOUGH it was only the beginning of the month of March the weather was beautiful, and we should have said that it was hot, had it not been for a refreshing breeze which carried with it a savour of the sea.
The moon was rising brilliantly behind Mount Cagna, and the cascades of light were falling upon the southern slope which separates Corsica into two parts, and in a measure forms two different nations, which are always at war, or at least, detest one another heartily.
As we mounted we could see the gorge in which the Tavaro was buried in profound darkness, impossible to penetrate, but we could view the calm Mediterranean, like a vast steel mirror extending into the horizon.
There are certain noises one hears only at night, for during the day they are overcome by other sounds, or it may be they awake only with the darkness, and these produced not upon Lucien, who was familiar with them, but upon me, who was a stranger to them, curious sensations of surprise, and awoke in me a powerful interest in all that I saw.
When we reached the place where the path united with anotherone going up the mountain direct, and the other to the right, Lucien turned to me and said
"Are you anything of a mountaineer?"
"Yes, a little, as far as walking goes."
"You are likely to get giddy, then."
"I am afraid so. The precipice has an irresistible attraction for me."
"Then we had better take this footpath where there are no precipices, but merely rough walking."
"I am quite equal to that."
"Very well, then, we have threequarters of an hour's walk before us."
"Let us take the path."
Lucien then went first, and crossed through a little oak wood, into which I followed him.
"Let us take the path."
Lucien then went first, and crossed through a little oak wood, into which I followed him.
Diamond trotted fifty or sixty paces away, beating right and left, and occasionally coming back to us, wagging his tail as much as to inform us that we might trust to him and continue our route in safety.
I saw that as some people like to possess a horse, equally for riding or driving, so Diamond had apparently been trained to hunt the biped or the quadruped, the bandit or the boar. I did not wish to appear altogether strange to Corsican manners, so I said as much to Lucien.
"You are mistaken," he replied; "Diamond is very useful in hunting men or animals, but he never chases bandits. It is the triple red of the gendarmes, the voltigeur, and the volunteer that he hunts."
"Then I suppose Diamond is a bandit's dog?"
"He is. He belongs to an Orlandi, to whom I sometimes used to send him into the country with bread, powder, bullets, or whatever he required. He was shot by a Colona, and the next day the dog came to me, for being accustomed to come to the house, he looked upon me as a friend."
"But," I said, "I fancied I saw another dog at your house."
"Yes, that is Brucso, he possesses the same qualities as Diamond, only he came to me from a Colona who was killed by an Orlandi, and so when I pay a visit to a Colona I take Brucso, but when I have business with an Orlandi I take Diamond. If I were to make a mistake and loose them both together they would kill each other. So," continued Lucien, with a bitter smile, "men can make it up, and will receive the sacrament together; the dogs will never eat from the same platter."
"Well," I said, laughing; "here are two regular Corsican dogs, but it seems to me that Diamond, like all other modest creatures, has gone out of earshot while we are speaking of him. I am afraid he has missed us."
"Oh, do not be alarmed," said Lucien, "I know where he is."
"May I inquire where?"
"He is at the Mucchio."
I was about to hazard another question, even at the risk of tiring my companion, when a long howl was heard, so lamentable, so sad, and so prolonged, that I shivered and stopped.
"What can that be?" I said.
"Nothing, it is only Diamond crying."
"What is he crying for?"
"His master. Do you not know that dogs do not forget those they have loved?"
"Ah, I understand," I said, as another prolonged howl rose through the night.
"Yes," I continued, "his master was shot, you say, and I suppose we are approaching the place where he was killed?"
"Just so, and Diamond has left us to go to Mucchio."
"That is where the man's tomb is?"
"Yes, that is to say, the monument which passersby have raised to his memory, in the form of a cairn; so it follows that the tomb of the victim gradually grows larger, a symbol of the increasing vengeance of his relations."
Another long howl from Diamond's throat made me shudder again, though I was perfectly well aware of the cause of the noise.
At the next turn of the path we came upon the wayside tomb or cairn. A heap of stones formed a pyramid of four or five feet in height.
At the foot of this strange monument Diamond was lying with extended neck and open mouth. Lucien picked up a stone, and taking off his cap approached the mucchio.
I did the same, following his example closely.
When he had come close to the pyramid he broke a branch from a young oak and threw, first, the stone and then the branch upon the heap. He rapidly made the sign of the cross.
I imitated him exactly, and we resumed our route in silence, but Diamond remained behind.
About ten minutes afterwards we heard another dismal howling, and then almost immediately Diamond passed us, head and tail drooping, to a point about a hundred paces in front, when he suddenly resumed his hunting.
Chapter VII
WE still kept advancing steadily, but, as Lucien had warned me, the path became rougher and more difficult.
I slung my gun over my shoulder, for I perceived that I should soon need both hands to assist me. As for my friend, he continued to press forward with the same easy gait, and did not appear to be at all inconvenienced by the difficult nature of the ground.
After some minutes' climbing over rocks, aided by bushes and roots, we reached a species of platform surmounted by some ruined walls. These ruins were those of the Castle of Vicentello d'Istria, our destination.
In about five minutes we had climbed up to the last terrace, Lucien in advance, and as he extended his hand to assist me he said:
"Well done, well done; you have not climbed badly for a Parisian."
"Supposing that the Parisian you have assisted has already had some little experience in mountain scrambling?"
"Ah, true!" said Lucien, laughing. "Have you not a mountain near Paris called Montmartre?"
"Yes, but there are others beside Montmartre which I have ascended. For instance, the Rigi, the Faulhorn, the Gemmi, Vesuvius, Stromboli and Etna."
"Indeed! Now I suppose you will despise me because I have never done more than surmount Monte Rotundo! Well, here we are! Four centuries ago my ancestors would have opened the portal to you and bade you welcome to the castle. Now their descendants can only show you the place where the door used to be, and say to you, 'Welcome to the ruins!'"
"I suppose the chateau has been in possession of your family since the death of Vicentello d'Istria?" I said, taking up the conversation at the point at which we had dropped it previously.
"No, but before his birth. It was the last dwellingplace of our famous ancestress Savilia, the widow of Lucien de Franchi."
"Is there not some terrible history connected with this woman?"
"Yes; were it daylight I could now show you from this spot the ruins of the Castle of Valle. There lived the lord of Guidice, who was as much hated as she (Savilia) was beloved, as ugly as she was beautiful. He became enamoured of her, and as she did not quickly respond to his desires, he gave her to understand that if she did not accept him in a given time he would come and carry her off by force. Savilia made pretence of consenting, and invited Guidice to come to dinner at the castle. Guidice was overcome with joy at this, and forgetting that the invitation had only been extorted by menace, accepted it, and came attended only by a few body servants. The gate was closed behind them, and in a few minutes Guidice was a prisoner, and cast into a dungeon, yonder."
I passed on in the direction indicated, and found myself in a species of square court.
The moonlight streamed through the apertures time had made in the once solid walls, and threw dark and welldefined shadows upon the ground. All other portions of the ruins remained in the deep shade of the overhanging walls round about.