“No.”
“Then take this ring and tell me who you are.”
He took the ring and after giving her all the information she required was allowed to proceed. When he came to the
house of his betrothed he found that she and all her family had perished. He returned to Palermo weeping.
Two months later he received a letter:
I asked if you were rich; you replied “No” and I gave you my ring. You saved my mother and you saved me. My mother has since died from the effects of the shock. If you are free I am ready to marry you and I have money enough for both.
On this they became engaged and after a suitable time intend to marry. Cecè wanted to apologise for the conventionality of this story, but I begged him not to trouble; if unassisted nature were to be always original, the occupation of poets and romancers would be gone.
In one house was a servant, a Roman woman; she was devoted to a young lady of the family and all the family were buried in the ruins, but the Roman servant was unhurt. She could get no help, the house was on the outskirts of the city and such passers-by as there were would not stop. She set to work searching for her young mistress and incidentally saved the whole family. It took her twenty-four hours; they were all wounded and her young mistress was the last she found.
A woman kept a small shop opposite another shop kept by a man who sold coal. The woman had saved money and the carbonajo knew she had her money in her house. He entered the woman’s house after the earthquake, accompanied by another malefactor. The woman’s daughter was killed, but the woman was under the ruins alive and they pulled her out. She exclaimed:
“I do not know you.”