Muttering many oaths, he let her be, and went away, shying a stone at the poor calf, which stumbled up on its uncertain legs and hobbled away, splashing awkwardly through the shallows to regain its herd. He was not as clever and resolute a man as his brother; he fretted and swore about matters which Alcide settled with a lead pellet or a stiletto blade. “Could you not find some occupation for that poor girl Muriella?” asked Cyrille of the Massaja some days later. “Occupation there is plenty, sir,” said Caterina curtly. “But you know her folks little if you think we can meddle with them and go scot free.” “But she is not their slave?” “No; not as one may call a slave; but they have housed and fed her ever since she was ten, and they have the first right to her. No one can gainsay that. If she were to come here, and have bed and board and wage, they would stick a knife in her and in me, most likely. They would hold she had disgraced them. Folks don’t go out to service here as they do in the cities. And what would they do without her? Who ploughs, who sews, who washes, who keeps the soul in all their lazy, dirty carcasses if not this one poor wench?” “I know; but it is unjust.” “Most things are, sir, in this world,” replied Caterina; “she was brought there when she was too small to choose, and now she must stay where she was put, like the grain in furrow. There is only one thing that she might do----” “What is that?” “She might take the veil. If she did that they would not dare to say aught against it, for they would know they would burn in fire everlasting if they did.” “Why should she not marry?” “Nay, sir; she will not marry such as alone would marry her. Only a _ciociaro_ would take her, and ’twould be but a change of masters.” “Poor girl!” said Cyrille, with regret. He knew what to marry a _ciociaro_ implied. “You had better not think about her, sir,” said Caterina, with significance. “Your thoughts can do her no good.” “They shall do her no harm, I promise you.” “Fine words! Fine words!” said Caterina, who, though she thought him a man above others, was doubtful of his regarding a good-looking maiden in any other manner than as the bee looks at the rose. VII. The position of a steward in Italy, if he be an honest man, is necessarily a position of continual friction in relation to the tenantry, and above all to those who, as in so many instances, pay in kind and pay in labour. Their perpetual effort is to cheat, and his to frustrate their cheating, for even if he be himself a trickster to his lord, it is not to his interests that their tricks should succeed.