When they caught sight of each other both Orlandi and his brother made a similar movement of repulsion, but, nevertheless, they both continued their way.
Just opposite the church door they stopped, a few paces only dividing them.
If three days previously these men had caught sight of each other within a hundred paces, one of the two certainly would have remained on the field.
For about five minutes there was a profound silence, a silence which, notwithstanding the peaceful nature of the ceremony, was anything but pacific.
Then at length the mayor spoke.
“Well, Colona,” he said, “do you not know that you have to speak first?”
Colona made an effort and muttered some words in the Corsican patois.
I fancied I understood him to say that he regretted having been in Vendetta with his good neighbour Orlandi, and that he offered in reparation the white hen which he held in his hand.
Orlandi waited until his adversary had finished speaking, and replied in some words which I took to be a promise that he would forget everything but the solemn reconciliation that had that day taken place in the presence of Monsieur Lucien and the notary.
After that the rivals preserved a dogged silence.