Fantasy fiction; Ghost stories; Horror tales; Paranormal fiction; Short stories; Storytelling -- Fiction
"What would happen next? Would the Madonna send a thunderbolt to destroy
these sacrilegious wretches, and perhaps myself at the same time? I
quite expected something of the sort. I am sure it is quite a wonder
that my hair hasn't turned white from the terrors I underwent last
evening.
"Well, Eccellenza, I presume these ruffians, after having laid wait for
the mail on the high road and robbed a number of poor gentlemen of all
they had about them, had made off with their ill-gotten treasure in the
dead of the night, and, passing through the village on their way,
descried the glimmer of the candle through the chinks of the church
door, and thought they would take this opportunity of dividing their
spoil.
"The treasure was a goodly heap, consisting of gold, silver, and paper
money, besides a few gold watches, which they all drew lots for, and a
magnificent diamond ring, which the brigand chief claimed for himself.
"'Now, my men,' said he after an equal portion had been allotted to
each, 'I think every man in my band has had a fair share of the booty.
This ring alone I claim the right of disposing of as head of the band,
seeing that it cannot be divided; yet, to show you all in what high
estimation I hold fair play, and how loath I am to possess even a
_baiocco_ more than my valiant companions without deserving it, I will
award this ring to the man who shall first succeed in hitting yon corpse
on the nose with it, I myself taking share in the pastime, and as
captain of the band claiming for myself the first shot.'
"Enthusiastic cheers greeted this decision of their chief, and the game
began. The captain had the first throw, but missed. Then a second picked
up the ring and also threw, but missed likewise. Then a third, with the
same result, and so on, till the seventh, who, more dextrous than the
rest, hit the corpse such a stinging whack on the nose that it suddenly
jumped up, shook its head, extended its arms, and leaped down from the
bier.
"You see, the rascal had been shamming, after all, sir, and, wearied out
with feigning death, had actually gone to sleep. Now, although I was
half prepared for such a resuscitation, the effect upon me was
electrical; but I recovered from my surprise soon enough to enjoy the
confusion of the brigands, who in their terror and dismay at what they
took to be a miracle wrought by the saints on purpose to punish their
impious conduct, took to their heels, stumbling over one another in
their flight, and letting drop all their treasure on the ground
unheeded, scampered out of the church as fast as their legs could carry
them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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