“Down! down! We want you!”
“Die, you dog! Die! Die! Die!”
In the large doorway, in the presence of the people, Don Luigi appeared carrying on his shoulders the motionless body of Carletto Grua. His whole face was burned and almost unrecognisable. He no longer had any hair nor beard left. He was walking boldly through the fire, endeavouring to keep his courage in spite of that atrocious pain.
At first the crowd was dumb. Then again broke forth in shouts and gestures, waiting ferociously for this great victim to expire before them.
“Here, here, you dog! We want to see you die!”
Don Luigi heard through the flames these last insults. He gathered together all of his will-power and stood for an instant in an attitude of indescribable scorn. Then turning abruptly he disappeared forever where the fire was raging fiercest.
XI THE WAR OF THE BRIDGE
Fragments of the Pescarese Chronicle
Towards the middle of August—when in the fields the wheat was bleaching dry in the sun—Antonio Mengarino, an old peasant full of probity and wisdom, standing before the Board of the Council when they were discussing public matters, heard some of the councillors, citizens of the place, discoursing in low tones about the cholera, which was spreading through the province; and he listened with close attention to the proposals for preserving the health and for eliminating the fears of the people and he leaned forward curiously and incredulously as he listened.
With him in the Council were two other peasants, Giulio Citrullo of the Plain, and Achille di Russo of the Hills, to whom the old man would turn from time to time, winking and grimacing insinuatingly, to warn them of the deception which he believed was concealed in the words of the Councillors and the Mayor.