“Remember this, sister,” continued Orso; “if I find, when I come back, that any demonstration whatever has been made against the Barricini I shall never forgive you.”  Then, in a gentler tone, he added, “Very possibly—­very probably—­I shall bring the colonel and his daughter back with me.  See that their rooms are well prepared, and that the breakfast is good.  In fact, let us make our guests as comfortable as we can.  It’s a very good thing to be brave, Colomba, but a woman must know how to manage her household, as well.  Come, kiss me, and be good!  Here’s the gray, ready saddled.”

“Orso,” said Colomba, “you mustn’t go alone.”

“I don’t need anybody,” replied Orso; “and I’ll promise you nobody shall slit my ear.”

“Oh, I’ll never consent to your going alone, while there is a feud.  Here!  Polo Griffo!  Gian’ Franco!  Memmo!  Take your guns; you must go with my brother.”

After a somewhat lively argument, Orso had to give in, and accept an escort.  From the most excited of the herdsmen he chose out those who had been loudest in their desire to commence hostilities; then, after laying fresh injunctions on his sister and the men he was leaving behind, he started, making a detour, this time, so as to avoid the Barricinis’ dwelling.

They were a long way from Pietranera, and were travelling along at a great pace, when, as they crossed a streamlet that ran into a marsh, Polo Griffo noticed several porkers wallowing comfortably in the mud, in full enjoyment at once of the warmth of the sun and the coolness of the water.  Instantly he took aim at the biggest, fired at its head, and shot it dead.  The dead creature’s comrades rose and fled with astonishing swiftness, and though another herdsman fired at them they reached a thicket and disappeared into it, safe and sound.

“Idiots!” cried Orso.  “You’ve been taking pigs for wild boars!”

“Not a bit, Ors’ Anton’,” replied Polo Griffo.  “But that herd belongs to the lawyer, and I’ve taught him, now, to mutilate our horses.”

“What! you rascal!” shouted Orso, in a perfect fury.  “You ape the vile behaviour of our enemies!  Be off, villains!  I don’t want you!  You’re only fit to fight with pigs.  I swear to God that if you dare follow me I’ll blow your brains out!”

The herdsmen stared at each other, struck quite dumb.  Orso spurred his horse, galloped off, and was soon out of sight.

“Well, well!” said Polo Griffo.  “Here’s a pretty thing.  You devote yourself to people, and then this is how they treat you.  His father, the colonel, was angry with you long ago, because you levelled your gun at the lawyer.  Great idiot you were, not to shoot.  And now here is his son.  You saw what I did for him.  And he talks about cracking my skull, just as he would crack a gourd that lets the wine leak out.  That’s what people learn on the mainland, Memmo!”

“Yes, and if any one finds out it was you who killed that pig there’ll be a suit against you, and Ors’ Anton’ won’t speak to the judges, nor buy off the lawyer for you.  Luckily nobody saw, and you have Saint Nega to help you out.”