Abbé Aubain and Mosaics. Prosper Merimee
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"Father," the boy cried out, with tears in his eyes, just ready to fall at his knees.
"Out of my sight!" shouted Mateo.
The child stopped motionless a few steps off his father, and began to sob.
Giuseppa came near him. She had just seen the end of the watch-chain hanging from out his shirt.
"Who gave you that watch?" she asked severely.
"My cousin the adjutant."
Falcone seized the watch, and threw it against a stone with such force that it broke into a thousand pieces.
"Woman," he said, "is this my child?"
Giuseppa's brown cheeks flamed brick-red.
"What are you saying, Mateo? Do you know to whom you are speaking?"
"Yes, very well. This child is the first traitor of his race."
Fortunato's sobs and hiccoughs redoubled, and Falcone kept his lynx eyes steadily fixed on him. At length he struck the ground with the butt end of his gun; then he flung it across his shoulder, retook the way to the mâquis, and ordered Fortunato to follow him. The child obeyed.
Giuseppa ran after Mateo, and seized him by the arm.
"He is your son," she said in a trembling voice, fixing her black eyes on those of her husband, as though to read all that was passing in his mind.
"Leave go," replied Mateo; "I am his father."
Giuseppa kissed her son, and went back crying into the hut. She threw herself on her knees before an image of the Virgin, and prayed fervently. When Falcone had walked about two hundred yards along the path he stopped at a little ravine and went down into it. He sounded the ground with the butt end of his gun, and found it soft and easy to dig. The spot seemed suitable to his purpose.
"Fortunato, go near to that large rock."
The boy did as he was told, then knelt down.
"Father, father, do not kill me!"
"Say your prayers!" repeated Mateo in a terrible voice.
The child repeated the Lord's Prayer and the Creed, stammering and sobbing. The father said "Amen!" in a firm voice at the close of each prayer.
"Are those all the prayers you know?"
"I know also the Ave Maria and Litany, that my aunt taught me, father."
"It is long, but never mind."
The child finished the Litany in a faint voice.
"Have you finished?"
"Oh, father, forgive me! forgive me! I will never do it again. I will beg my cousin the corporal with all my might to pardon Gianetto!"
He went on imploring. Mateo loaded his rifle and took aim.
"May God forgive you!" he said.
The boy made a frantic effort to get up and clasp his father's knees, but he had no time. Mateo fired, and Fortunato fell stone dead.
Without throwing a single glance at the body, Mateo went back to his house to fetch a spade with which to bury his son. He had only returned a little way along the path when he met Giuseppa, who had run out alarmed by the sound of firing.
"What have you done?" she cried.
"Justice!"
"Where is he?"
"In the ravine; I am going to bury him. He died a Christian. I shall have a mass sung for him. Let someone tell my son-in-law Tiodoro Bianchi to come and live with us."
1829.
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