"Why do you take all this trouble for me, Anna-Ro? Don't you want me to die?" Her heart sank, while he continued quietly, addressing Isidoro: "And you? You brought me this, but just suppose it were to cure me, what would you do then?" "God will look after that; leave it to him," said the fisherman. Giacobbe lay quiet for a few moments; then he said: "Shall you two go together to the magistrate's?" "Where?" "To the magistrate's; it's cold, though, now, and it's a long way to go; you must not go on horse-back, Anna-Rosa, do you hear? You will have to have a carriage to drive to Nuoro." "What for?" she faltered distressedly, pretending not to understand. "Why, to see the magistrate, of course." She scolded him, and then went into the kitchen and wept bitterly. "Here is your oil," she said presently, as Isidoro came out and prepared to leave. "You could not do anything but bring it, of course. When is Priest Elias coming?" "This evening." "Yes, he ought to; Giacobbe must confess. Time is flying, and he is very ill; last night he didn't close an eye. Ah!" she added suddenly, "he seems to me just like some wounded bird." "Have the Dejases been here?" "Oh, yes! They've been here, both of them, mother and son. Brontu has been here twice. Oh, they all come!" she said desperately, "but what good does it do? They can't cure him; they can't give him either life or death." "Either one would be equally a blessing or a curse to him," said Isidoro, carefully wrapping his red handkerchief around the vial of oil. "As they are for most of us!" said the woman. Soon after, the doctor arrived in a shrunken overcoat, with the collar turned up. He had been drinking already, and smelled strong of spirits; his lips were white, and he puffed, and spat about, sometimes over himself. He seemed somewhat startled, however, when he saw his patient's condition. "What the devil's the matter with you?" he demanded roughly. "Your side? your side? You've got the devil in your side. Let's have a look." He threw back the covers, exposing Giacobbe's hairy chest; passing his hand up and down his side, he listened with his ear close to the patient's back. "It's all nonsense," he said. "You've worked yourself up like some old woman." Then he replaced the covers carelessly, and went out. At the door, however, he turned and fixed Aunt Anna-Rosa with his eye. "Woman," he said, "let him see the priest at once; he has pneumonia." At dusk Giacobbe confessed; then he called his sister. "Anna-Ro," he said, "Priest Elias is going to Nuoro with you too. You must be sure to have a carriage on account of the cold." It was, in fact, snowing then, and the big room was filled with the white reflected light.