“It is very long, but no matter.”
The child finished the litany in a scarcely audible tone.
“Are you finished?”
“Oh! my father, have mercy! Pardon me! I will never do so again. I will beg my cousin, the Caporal, to pardon Gianetto.”
He was still speaking. Mateo raised his gun, and, taking aim, said:
“May God pardon you!”
The boy made a desperate effort to rise and grasp his father’s knees, but there was not time. Mateo fired and Fortunato fell dead.
Without casting a glance on the body, Mateo returned to the house for a spade with which to bury his son. He had gone but a few steps when he met Giuseppa, who, alarmed by the shot, was hastening hither.
“What have you done?” cried she.
“Justice.”