“Yes, and as you see, it has not been concluded without some trouble. I have been obliged to represent all the advances as having been made by the Colona; for, you see, they have had five men killed, while the Orlandi have lost but four. The former consented to the arrangement yesterday, and the latter to-day. The upshot of it all is that the Colona have agreed to hand over a live hen to the Orlandi, a concession which will prove them in the wrong. This last consideration has settled the matter.”
“And to-morrow this touching reconciliation will be effected?”
“Yes, to-morrow, at ten o’clock. You are still unfortunate; you hoped to see a Vendetta?”
The young man smiled bitterly as he continued—“But this is a finer thing than a Vendetta! isn’t it? For four hundred years, in Corsica, they have been talking of nothing else. Now you will see a reconciliation. I assure you it is a much rarer sight than a Vendetta!”
I could not help laughing.
“There, you see, you are laughing at us,” he said. “And you are right, after all. We are really a very droll people.”
“No,” I replied, “I was laughing at another strange thing, and that is, to see that you are annoyed with yourself because you have succeeded so well in bringing about a reconciliation.”
“Ah!” he replied. “If you had understood what we said you would have admired my eloquence. But come back in ten years’ time, and you will find us all speaking French.”
“You would make a first-rate pleader.”
“No, no—I am a referee—an arbitrator. What the deuce do you expect? Must not an arbitrator reconcile opposing factions? They might nominate me the arbiter between Heaven and Hell, that I might teach them to be reconciled, although, in my own heart, I should feel that I was a fool for my pains.”