"He wishes to see me?" Giorgio asked in disbelief.
"Si, si. He tries everywhere to find Giorgio Terni. First he goes to the Ramallis'; you not there. They say to him: 'Giorgio, he went to market to buy the raincoat, or maybe the umbrella.' So the Chief comes at once to me.
"'Where is Giorgio Terni?' he asks. 'You have seen him, yes?' 'No, no,' I have to say. 'Him I have not seen in long, long time.' He says, 'Giorgio will come.' 'For certain?' I ask. 'For certain,' he says."
Uncle Marco licked his lips and beamed, first upon Giorgio and then upon the audience. "So now everything is arranged. You, Giorgio Terni, must come here to Il Campo tonight at the hour of ten." He pointed across the Piazza. "Over there at the street café by the Fonte Gaia will be the Chief. He will await you. So now the umbrella you do not need. Instead...."
He rummaged in his pockets and pulled out a slender red horn made from sea coral. It shone brightly in his calloused hand. "Anciently," he said, crinkling his eyes until they were slits, "Roman gladiators carry this horn for best luck."
He doffed his hat and bowed as if he were conferring a knighthood. "I make a present to you, Giorgio." He held it dangling on its string before the boy, who returned bow for bow but made no comment. He could see Uncle Marco had more to say.
"And for extra good luck, here is also a small rabbit's foot. An American lady give it me for a favor. Now I give to you." He pressed both into Giorgio's hands and smiled exultantly.
