Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1893-07-20
A VENDETTE.

Paolo Saverini's widow lived with her
only son in a small and humble house
ON the ramparts of Bonifacio.
The town had been built on the spur
Of q mountain, and hung in places far
above the sea, overlooking the narroWs
bristliug with cliffs, on the lower side,
almost entirely surrounding it, a line
of cliffs which resembled a gigantic
corridor, did service as a harbOr, and
led UP to the first houses of the town
after a long, circuitOus route between
two straight walls. This harbor was
used by the little Italian and Sandman
fishing crafts, and by the old painting
steamer which brought the mails from
AjacciO.
The white mountain side was thick
with houses, even neater than that
of the widow They looked like the
nests of savage birds perched ON high,
overlooking the dangerous defile that
no boats dared approach. The wind
blows necessarily there fuiOusly lash
ing the sea and the bare coast. The
pillows rush into the narrow strait
foam, pierced by the dark spots of the
innumerable rocks which rise above
the waves, look like linen shreds float
ing and dancing on the surface of the
water.
The widow Saverini's house was stu
ated on the edge of the cliff, it's three
small windows facing the wild and
desolate horizon. She lived there all
alone with her son Antonio and her
dog Semillante, a large thin animal
with long shaggy hair, not unlike a
shepherds dog. The young man used
it when hunting.
One evening, in broil, Antonio Save
RIM was stabbed to death by Nicolas
Ravolati, who on the same night escap-
ed to the Sandman side When the
old mother beheld the corpse Of her
son, which passerS-by carried to her
door, she uttered no cry, but gaZed at
it without a twitch of the muscles of
her face. Then, laying her shriveled
hand on the dead body of her child,
she vowed to avenge his murder. She
sent them all away, and locked herself
up with the corspe and the dog, who
howled necessarily as it lay by the
foot of the bed, its head turned upon
its dead masters face and it's tail be-
tween it's legs. There it stayed all
night with the mother, who leaned
over the lifeless body of her son with
staring eyes from which the tears ran
slowly.
Lying fiat on his back, with his waist
coat pierced and torn at the breast,
the young man seemed to be asleep.
Blood stained the shirt torn open to
stanch the wound, the waistcoat and
the trousers, as well as his face and
hands. Blood clots hung in his beard
and in his hair.
The old mother began to talk into
the deafened ears; and when it heard
her voice the dog stopped barking.
Never mind Thou shalt be aveng-
ed, my babe, my boy, my poor child
Sleep; sleep on; thou shalt be avenged
-dost thou hear! Thy mother prom
ises, and she has always kept her word
thou knOwest it WE'LL
She bent over him and pressed her
cold lips to his dead ones. Semillante
resumed her moan-a terrible, heart
rending moan. They remained together
beside the corpse until morning, mother
and dog.
On the following day Antonio Save
rini was buried, and the murder was
soon forgotten by the good people OF
Bonifacio.
| The murdered man had left behind
him neither brother nor near kinsmen
Nobody thought to avenge his death
only the old mother remembered She
watched, from morning until night, a
little white spot on the banks of the
other side Of the straits. 1t is a Sar
dinian village, called Longosardo, and
has long been a refuge for COrsica1
bandits who find themselves closely
pursued. They inhabit the hamlet al
most exclusively, which is in plain view
of their native land, awaiting only the
moment when they can safely return
The old mother knew that Nicolas Ra
vOlati had fed to this village.
| Day after day she sat by the window
and brooded over the vendetta. Wha7
could she do, without assistance, infirn
and near the end of her days? But she
had given an oat. oound promise tC
her dead child which she could not for
get, and she had not much time tt
wait Yet what colu she do? She lay
awake at nigh without peace or rest
obstinately bent on the thought of re
venge. The dog crouched at her feet
lifting its head now and then to uttel
low moan. Since her masters dealt
she often moaned and howled, appar
emily inconsolable for the loss.
| One night. when Semillante was in
dulging as usual in her plaintive howl
la wild ferocious thought flashed