“Do you mind very much, signore? I thought—I fancied—”said poor Lucia, trembling, and panting for breath.

“Mind! Ah, signorina, it is not that; I am only too happy to think I am to have such a dear, good, beautiful wife,” said Lugeno consolingly, and his manner was so hearty as to leave no room for doubt as to his sincerity. “My dearest girl, don’t cry; this happiness has come upon me like a—like a thunder-bolt. You’re the very wife I should have chosen above all others; but I don’t understand what has happened, or how it has all come about. Why, I have been forced to accept happiness such as I dared not even dream of at the point of twenty knives! How is it, dear signorina? And why did you make me cut off your plait?”

Don Ernano spoke so kindly and pleasantly that Lucia had soon dried her tears, and now looking up at him with a beaming face, she said, “I will tell you all about it, Don Ernano. You see I was obliged to do as I did, or you could not have married me without incurring the vengeance of that wicked Pietro who is very angry at my refusing him. Now you are under the protection of the whole village, and he will take good care not to come in your way.”

Then Lucia went on to tell her lover all the ins and outs of the affair, and how, after Pietro’s attempt two nights ago, she had made up her mind to get him to cut off her hair rather than let anyone else do so.

“And now will you forgive me?” she asked in a gentle, shame faced tone.

“Forgive? I’ll thank you with all my heart, you dear, brave, clever girl. I declare you are wiser and cleverer than the wisest lawyer,” and drawing the tall, handsome village maiden to him, he gave her a long kiss, which was cordially returned.

“What a pity about your beautiful hair! I wish it were grown again,” said he, tenderly stroking his bride’s close-cropped head.

“Well, you are a hair-dresser, so you must see what you can do,” said Lucia; “but I have made a good exchange. Where is the girl who would not sacrifice the finest head of hair for a good husband, especially,” she added shyly, “when the lover himself cut it off?”

While Lucia and Don Ernano were thus pleasantly engaged, there had been a great disturbance at Palenella. Pietro Antonio, having just heard all that had happened, had hurried to the village in a furious passion. First he poured out his wrath on the peasants for their stupidity, and then tried to set them against the barber, whom he had always hated, and now of course detested more than ever. He told the peasants that he was a crafty rascal, that he and the girl understood one another, and had acted in concert, and that he only wanted her money.

But he soon found that this would not do. The villagers had no mind to be robbed of their triumph, and were quite certain they understood the matter better than he did, and they used such forcible arguments to convince Pietro of the justice of their views, that he retired to his bed for a fortnight, and after that, not only gave Palenella a very wide berth, but soon left the district and went to Naples.