"Mixed among the crowd of Sicilians were many Frenchmen who had come out to see the marriage and to join in the games that were to fill the evening. But, as usual, the French were behaving roughly to the Sicilian men and impudently to the women, causing the Sicilian faces to look black and angry.
"It was one of the vexatious laws of the French that no Sicilian should carry arms, and presently a Frenchman cried out:
"'These rebellious Paterins must have arms hidden upon them or they would never dare to look so sulky. Let us search them.'
"The idea was instantly caught up, and in another moment the festival would have been disturbed by a general search, when an admiring murmur running through the crowd turned all thoughts to another direction. The bride was coming, and every one turned to look.
"Dressed in her pretty wedding finery, her gold ornaments glinting in the sunlight, she leaned upon her father's arm, while her lover and the friends who were asked to the wedding walked behind; blushing and smiling she advanced towards the church. Suddenly a Frenchman stepped out of the crowd, and crying out with a coarse laugh, 'I daresay she has got arms hidden about her somewhere,' he tore open her dress and thrust his hand into her bosom. Terrified and insulted the poor girl fainted into her lover's arms, but her father sprang upon the offender, and tearing his sword from him stabbed him with it, crying as he did so, 'Let the French die.'
"Then every Sicilian in the place echoed the shout, 'Let the French die.' They had broken at last from their slavery, and more like wild beasts than men they took their revenge. In a moment the French were overpowered. Their arms were dragged from them and they were killed with their own swords. Back into the town went the Sicilians shouting everywhere, 'Let the French die,' and before they laid down their arms that evening they had killed four thousand."
Murtagh's eyes were fixed eagerly upon Nessa, and as her voice ceased he drew himself up suddenly on to his knees and exclaimed:
"Oh, how I wish I had been there! I would have fought with all my might and main against those mean French thieves. Did John of Procida succeed in the end?"
"Yes," said Nessa. As she answered she looked at him and was startled by the almost feverish interest of his face. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright, and he continued with rapid, passionate utterance:
"How could they bear it so long? How could they live not free in their own beautiful country? But John of Procida was true, he was brave; he knew that it is better to die than to live like slaves."