The Sunday herald. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1866-1887, 1885-08-16
A VENDETTA.
THE TALE OLA cons1cAs MOTHERS VENDETTA.


Translated for the Times. Democrat
Paolo Saverini's widow lived alone with
her son in a miserable little house on the
ramparts of Bonifacio. The city, built upon
. projection Of the mountain, and even
hanging directly above the sea in some
places, commands, across the strait that
bristles with rocks, a good view OF the low
est portion of the Sandman coast. At its
feet, on the other side, and almost thanking
1t entirely. an opening in the cliff shaped
like a gigantic corridor serves It for port,
enabling the little Italian or Sandman fish
ing-smacks to advance TO the first line of
houses after a long circuit between two
abrupt walls. Aud every fifteen days comes
the old wheezy steamboat which plies be-
tween the town and Ajaccio.
Upon the white mountain the mass of
houses make still whittier stain. They seem
like nests of wild birds attached to the rock,
and overlooking the terrible passage into
which vessels never venture. Without re,
pose the wind labors the sea, labors the
naked coast, which il gnaws forever, and
which has scarcely covering OF green; 1t
rusheI into the narrow detroit ravaging
either shore. The long trails of white foam,
clinging to the points of the countless rocks
which pierce the water everywhere, have
the aspect of tatters of clothes floating and
quivering on the surface.
The house of the Widow Savsrini, psrched
upon the very edge of the cliff, as il soldered
there, opened its three windows to the wild
and desolate horizon.
She lived there all alone with her son and
their dog Allegro-a great, gaunt beast with
long, bristling hair-of sheepdog breed.
The dog aided the young mau in hunting.
Saverini was treachsrously killed with
single knife thrust by Nicolo Ravolati,
who the same night lied 10 Sardinia.
When the old mother received the corpse
OF her child, that some passers by had found
and carried to her, she did not weep at all,
but remained for long time mOtionless,
staring at the body; then, stretching out
her wrinkled hand over the body, she
promised the dead uendetta. She would
not allow any one to remain with her; and
she shut herself up alone with tue dog,
which howled. The brute howled continu-
OusIy, standing up with his forspsws on the
masters face, and keeping his tail between
His legs. There he REMAINED motionless as
the mother, who now, bending above the
corpse, Contemplated II with a fixed stare,
while great dumb tears rolled down her
cheeks.
Lying on his back at full length, still
wearing his great coarse Jacket, torn and
pierced at the breast, the youth seemed TO,
sleep but his blood was everywhere-on
the shirt that had been torn open when the
frat attempt at aid was mads-on his vest
on his trowsers-on his facs-on his hands.
Gouts Of blood had thickensd in his beard
and hair.
The old mother began to speak to him.
At the SOUND Of her voice the dog ceased to
howl.
"Never mind-nevsr mind thou wilt be
avenged, my little Ons-my own boy, my
poor dear child. Slsepi sleepi thou wilt
bs avspged--dost hearf II Ia mother who
promises this TO thee aud she always keeps
her wOrd-mother dOss"
And she bent down slowly over him, press
ing her lips upon the cold, dead lips.
Then Allegro again began to howl. He
uttered long, monotonous plaint-pisrcing,
horrible.
The two remained there until morning
the woman and the animal.
Antonio Saverini was buried next morn
lug; and folks soon ceased TO speak Of him
In Bonifacio.
He had left no brother nor even any near
cousins. There was no man to pursue the
vendetta. The old woman only thought of
1.-THE old mother.
From morning till night she watched
white speck cleaning across the strait, on
the low shore beyond. It was the little Sar-
dmian village Longo Sardo, whittier Corsi-
can bandits still fly for refuge when too
closely pursued. They alone constitute al
most the entire population OF the hamlet,
fronting the cost OF their own fathsrland
and they wait there for the chance TO return
to the mountain thickets. She knew 1t was
In that village that Nicolo Ravolati was
hiding.
All day long, while sitting alone at her
window, she looked across the water, ponder
ing vengeance. But what was she to do
without any man 10 aid, weak, old woman,
with one foot in the gravsf Nevertheless
she had promised; she had sworn upon the
corpse. She could not forget she could not
wait. What was she to dor She could not
sleep at night for thinking of II she could
neither rest nor lind peace Of mind she
thought, aud planned. and devised incss-
sanity, obstinately. The dog. which slept
at her feet, occasionally lifted his head with
a'statt aud howlsd at the empty air. Since
his master had been killed the dog often
howlsd like that, as II trying 10 call him
pack, as II his inconsolable animal soul was
also haunted bya memory which nothing
Now, ono night while Allegro was bowling
q sudden idss came TO the inothsr-an idea
worthy Of . yindictive and fsrocious savage.
Doe thought over 1t until morning, and
rising at the first CLEAN Of dawn she hurried
to the church. There, PROSTATE upon the
pavement, casting herself down before God,
she prayed Him to aid her, to sustain her,
to give her poor old body strength enough
TO enable her to avenge her son.
Then she went home She had al old
barrel in her yard, which she used to collect
the rainwater in. This she omptsd, laid ON
its side, fixed firmly to the ground by means
Of stakes and slaves. Then she chained
Allegro TO this extsmporized kennel aud
went into the house.
She began to walk backward and forward
In her room without ever resting, CHANGING
from time to time at the Sandman coast. he
was there-the murderer
All that day and all the night following
the dog howled. In the morning tae old
woman brought him q bowl Of water, but