be so brisk as you are!
Come, try to move your finger. Do you feel my teeth when I bite your
little finger? Not very well? Never mind! It won't be much. Let me take
your handkerchief and your neckcloth. Well, your coat's spoilt, anyhow!
What the devil did you make yourself so smart for? Were you going to
a wedding? There! drink a drop of wine. Why on earth don't you carry a
flask? Does any Corsican ever go out without a flask?"

Then again he broke off the dressing of the wound to exclaim:

"A right and left! Both of them stone dead! How the Padre will laugh! A
right and left! Oh, here's that little dawdle Chilina at last!"

Orso made no reply--he was as pale as death and shaking in every limb.

"Chili!" shouted Brandolaccio, "go and look behind that wall!"

The child, using both hands and feet, scrambled onto the wall, and the
moment she caught sight of Orlanduccio's corpse she crossed herself.

"That's nothing," proceeded the bandit; "go and look farther on, over
there!"

The child crossed herself again.

"Was it you, uncle?" she asked timidly.

"Me! Don't you know I've turned into a useless old fellow! This, Chili,
is the signor's work; offer him your compliments."

"The signorina will be greatly rejoiced," said Chilina, "and she will be
very much grieved to know you are wounded, Ors' Anton'."

"Now then, Ors' Anton'," said the bandit, when he had finished binding
up the wound. "Chilina, here, has caught your horse. You must get on
his back, and come with me to the Stazzona _maquis_. It would be a sly
fellow who'd lay his hand on you there. When we get to the Cross of
Santa Christina, you'll have to dismount. You'll give over your horse to
Chilina, who'll go off and warn the signorina. You can say anything to
the child, Ors' Anton'. She would let herself be cut in pieces rather
than betray her friends," and then, fondly, he turned to the little
girl, "That's it, you little hussy; a ban on you, a curse on you--you
jade!" For Brandolaccio, who was superstitious, like most bandits,
feared he might cast a spell on a child if he blessed it or praised it,
seeing it is a well-known fact that the mysterious powers that rule the
_Annocchiatura_[*] have a vile habit of fulfilling our wishes in the
very opposite sense to that we give them.

[*] _Annocchiatura_, an involuntary spell cast either by the
eye or by spoken words.

"Where am I to go, Brando?" queried Orso in a faint voice.

"Faith! you must c