Ashes (Cenere): A Sardinian Story

Chapter
Chapter
Go home this moment! she said, in her beautiful, still childish voice.
No! replied one of the little fellows.
Then you won't see the heavens burst to-night. Good children on the night of St John see the heavens open, and then they can look into Paradise, and see the Lord, and the angels, and the Holy Spirit. What you'll see is a hobgoblin if you don't go straight back home!
All right, said the elder, impressed; and though the other protested, he allowed himself to be led away.
Olì, however, went on; beyond the river, beyond the path, beyond the dark copse of wild olive. Here and there she stooped over some plant, which she tied with her scarlet ribbons; then straightened herself and scanned the night with the sharp gaze of her cat-like eyes, her heart beating with anxiety, with fear, and with joy.
The fragrant night invited to love, and Olì was in love. She was fifteen, and on the excuse of signing the flowers of St John, she was making her way to a love-tryst.
One night six months earlier a stranger had come to the Cantoniera to ask for some fire-kindling. He was a contadino or farm-labourer sent by the owner of the extensive fields round the tumble-down house, and had arrived for the sowing. He was young and tall, with long black curls and coal-black eyes so bright one could hardly look at them! Olì alone was not afraid to meet their gaze with her own fine eyes, which were never abashed by anyone.
The Cantoniere , a man, not old, though worn with hard work, poverty, and many troubles, received the young man kindly, gave him a flint, catechised him about his master, and invited him to look in whenever he liked. After this the farm-servant frequented the Cantoniera assiduously. He told stories to the children, and taught Olì where to look for the best mushrooms and edible herbs.
And I know of several other hidden treasures, he said gravely, while Oh picked bunches of wild fennel; I shall certainly manage to find one of them; and then——