With these words they exchanged the kiss of challenge. Turridu seized the carter’s ear between his teeth, and thus solemnly bound himself not to fail him.
The friends had all silently withdrawn from the dish of sausage, and accompanied Turridu all the way to his home. Mistress Nunzia, poor woman, was accustomed to wait for him late every night.
“Mother,” said Turridu, “do you remember when I went away to be a soldier, and you thought that I was never coming back! Give me a kiss, such as you gave me then, for to-morrow I am going on a long journey!”
Before daybreak he took his clasp-knife, which he had hidden under the straw at the time he went away as a conscript, and started with it for the prickly pears of Canziria.
“Holy Mother, where are you going in such a rage?” sobbed Lola in terror as her husband started to leave the house.
“I am not going far,” answered Alfio, “but it will be far better for you if I never come back.”
Lola, in her night-gown, prayed at the foot of her bed, and pressed to her lips the rosary which Fra Bernadino had brought her from the Holy Land, and recited all the Ave Marias that there were beads for.
“Friend Alfio,” began Turridu after he had walked quite a bit of the way beside his companion, who remained silent, with his cap drawn over his eyes, “as true as God himself, I know that I am in the wrong, and I ought to let you kill me. But before I came here, I saw my old mother, who rose early to see me start, on the pretext that she had to tend the chickens; but her heart must have told her the truth. And as true as God himself, I am going to kill you like a dog, sooner than have the poor old woman weeping for me.”
“So much the better,” replied Master Alfio, stripping off his jacket, “strike your hardest, and so will I.”
They were both worthy foes. Turridu received the first thrust, and was quick enough to catch it on his arm. When he paid it back, he gave good measure, and aimed for the groin.