It was long before Orso fell asleep, and as a consequence he woke late --late for a Corsican, at all events. When he left his bed, the first object that struck his gaze was the house of his enemies, and the /archere/ with which they had furnished it. He went downstairs and asked for his sister.
"She is in the kitchen, melting bullets," answered Saveria, the woman-servant.
So he could not take a step without being pursued by the image of war.
He found Colomba sitting on a stool, surrounded by freshly cast bullets, and cutting up strips of lead.
"What the devil are you doing?" inquired her brother.
"You had no bullets for the colonel's gun," she answered, in her soft voice. "I found I had a mould for that calibre, and you shall have four-and-twenty cartridges to-day, brother."
"I don't need them, thank God!"
"You mustn't be taken at a disadvantage, Ors' Anton'. You have forgotten your country, and the people who are about you."
"If I had forgotten, you would soon have reminded me. Tell me, did not a big trunk arrive here some days ago?"
"Yes, brother. Shall I take it up to your room?"
"You take it up! Why, you'd never be strong enough even to lift it!
. . . Is there no man about who can do it?"
"I'm not so weak as you think!" said Colomba, turning up her sleeves, and displaying a pair of round white arms, perfect in shape, but looking more than ordinarily strong. "Here, Saveria," said she to the servant; "come and help me!"
She was already lifting the trunk alone, when Orso came hastily to her assistance.
"There is something for you in this trunk, my dear Colomba," said he.
"You must excuse the modesty of my gifts. A lieutenant on half-pay hasn't a very well-lined purse!"
As he spoke, he opened the trunk, and took out of it a few gowns, a shawl, and some other things likely to be useful to a young girl.
"What beautiful things!" cried Colomba. "I'll put them away at once, for fear they should be spoiled. I'll keep them for my wedding," she added, with a sad smile, "for I am in mourning now!"
And she kissed her brother's hand.
"It looks affected, my dear sister, to wear your mourning for so long."
"I have sworn an oath," said Colomba resolutely, "I'll not take off my mourning. . . ." And her eyes were riveted on the Barricini mansion.
"Until your wedding day?" said Orso, trying to avoid the end of her sentence.
"I shall never marry any man," said Colomba, "unless he has done three things . . ." And her eyes still rested gloomily on the house of the enemy.
"You are so pretty, Colomba, that I wonder you are not married already! Come, you must tell me about your suitors. And besides, I'm sure to hear their serenades. They must be good ones to please a great /voceratrice/ like you."
"Who would seek the hand of a poor orphan girl? . . . And then, the man for whom I would change my mourning-dress will have to make the women over there put on mourning!"
"This is becoming a perfect mania," said Orso to himself. But to avoid discussion he said nothing at all.
"Brother," said Colomba caressingly, "I have something to give you, too. The clothes you are wearing are much too grand for this country.
Your fine cloth frock-coat would be in tatters in two days, if you wore it in the /maquis/. You must keep it for the time when Miss Nevil comes."
Then, opening a cupboard, she took out a complete hunting dress.
"I've made you a velvet jacket, and here's a cap, such as our smart young men wear. I embroidered it for you, ever so long ago. Will you try them on?" And she made him put on a loose green velvet jacket, with a huge pocket at the back. On his head she set a pointed black velvet cap, embroidered with jet and silk of the same colour, and finished with a sort of tassel "Here is our father's /carchera/"[*] she said. "His stiletto is in the pocket of the jacket. I'll fetch you his pistol."
[*] Carchera, a belt for cartridges. A pistol is worn fastened to the left side of it.
"I look like a brigand at the Ambigu-Comique," said Orso, as he looked at himself in the little glass Saveria was holding up for him.
"Indeed, you look first-rate, dressed like that, Ors' Anton'," said the old servant, "and the smartest /pinsuto/[*] in Bocognano or Bastelica is not braver."
[*] Pinsuto, the name given to men who wear the pointed cap, /barreta pinsuta/.
Orso wore his new clothes at breakfast, and during that meal he told his sister that his trunk contained a certain number of books, that he was going to send to France and Italy for others, and intended she should study a great deal.
"For it really is disgraceful, Colomba," he added, "that a grown-up girl like you should still be ignorant of things that children on the mainland know as soon as they are weaned."
"You are right, brother," said Colomba. "I know my own shortcomings quite well, and I shall be too glad to learn--especially if you are kind enough to teach me."
Some days went by, and Colomba never mentioned the name of Barricini.
She lavished care and attention on her brother, and often talked to him about Miss Nevil. Orso made her read French and Italian books, and was constantly being surprised either by the correctness and good sense of her comments, or by her utter ignorance on the most ordinary subjects.
One morning, after breakfast, Colomba left the room for a moment, and instead of returning as usual, with a book and some sheets of paper, reappeared with her /mezzaro/ on her head. The expression of her countenance was even more serious than it generally was.
"Brother," she said, "I want you to come out with me."
"Where do you want me to go with you?" said Orso, holding out his arm.
"I don't want your arm, brother, but take your gun and your cartridge-pouch. A man should never go abroad without his arms."
"So be it. I must follow the fashion. Where are we going?"
