“We’ll protect ourselves,” said Colomba.

“Orlanduccio,” said Orso, “strikes me as being a plucky fellow, and I think better of him than that, monsieur.  He was very quick about drawing his dagger.  But perhaps I should have done the same thing in his place, and I’m glad my sister has not an ordinary fine lady’s wrist.”

“You are not to fight,” exclaimed the prefect.  “I forbid it!”

“Allow me to say, monsieur, that in matters that affect my honour the only authority I acknowledge is that of my own conscience.”

“You sha’n’t fight, I tell you!”

“You can put me under arrest, monsieur—­that is, if I let you catch me.  But if you were to do that, you would only delay a thing that has now become inevitable.  You are a man of honour yourself, monsieur; you know there can be no other course.”

“If you were to have my brother arrested,” added Colomba, “half the village would take his part, and we should have a fine fusillade.”

“I give you fair notice, monsieur, and I entreat you not to think I am talking mere bravado.  I warn you that if Signor Barricini abuses his authority as mayor, to have me arrested, I shall defend myself.”

“From this very day,” said the prefect, “Signor Barricini is suspended.  I trust he will exculpate himself.  Listen to me, my young gentleman, I have a liking for you.  What I ask of you is nothing to speak of.  Just to stay quietly at home till I get back from Corte.  I shall only be three days away.  I’ll bring back the public prosecutor with me, and then we’ll sift this wretched business to the bottom.  Will you promise me you will abstain from all hostilities till then?”

“I can not promise that, monsieur, if, as I expect, Orlanduccio asks me to meet him.”

“What, Signor della Rebbia!  Would you—­a French officer—­think of going out with a man you suspect of being a forger?”

“I struck him, monsieur!”

“But supposing you struck a convict, and he demanded satisfaction of you, would you fight him?  Come, come, Signor Orso!  But I’ll ask you to do even less, do nothing to seek out Orlanduccio.  I’ll consent to your fighting him if he asks you for a meeting.”

“He will ask for it, I haven’t a doubt of that.  But I’ll promise I won’t give him fresh cuffs to induce him to do it.”

“What a country!” cried the prefect once more, as he strode to and fro.  “Shall I never get back to France?”

“Signor Prefetto,” said Colomba in her most dulcet tones, “it is growing very late.  Would you do us the honour of breakfasting here?”

The prefect could not help laughing.

“I’ve been here too long already—­it may look like partiality.  And there is that cursed foundation-stone.  I must be off.  Signorina della Rebbia! what calamities you may have prepared this day!”

“At all events, Signor Prefetto, you will do my sister the justice of believing her convictions are deeply rooted—­and I am sure, now, that you yourself believe them to be well-founded.”