Brothers -- Fiction; Corsica (France) -- Fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English; Twins -- Fiction; Vendetta -- Fiction
The young man smiled bitterly as he continued--"But this is a finer
thing than a Vendetta! isn't it? For four hundred years, in Corsica,
they have been talking of nothing else. Now you will see a
reconciliation. I assure you it is a much rarer sight than a
Vendetta!"
I could not help laughing.
"There, you see, you are laughing at us," he said. "And you are right,
after all. We are really a very droll people."
"No," I replied, "I was laughing at another strange thing, and that
is, to see that you are annoyed with yourself because you have
succeeded so well in bringing about a reconciliation."
"Ah!" he replied. "If you had understood what we said you would have
admired my eloquence. But come back in ten years' time, and you will
find us all speaking French."
"You would make a first-rate pleader."
"No, no--I am a referee--an arbitrator. What the deuce do you expect?
Must not an arbitrator reconcile opposing factions? They might
nominate me the arbiter between Heaven and Hell, that I might teach
them to be reconciled, although, in my own heart, I should feel that I
was a fool for my pains."
I perceived that this conversation was only irritating to my new
acquaintance, so I let it drop, and as he did not attempt to resume
it, we proceeded in silence, and did not speak again until we had
reached his house.
CHAPTER X.
GRIFFO was in attendance when we arrived, and before his master said a
word the servant had taken the pheasant from Lucien's pocket. The
valet had heard and had understood the object of the shot.
Madame de Franchi had not yet retired to rest, although she had gone
upstairs, and she had left a message with Griffo to request her son to
go into her room before she went to bed.
The young man first inquiring whether I was in want of anything, and
on my reply in the negative, begged to be excused, to wait upon his
mother.
Of course I acknowledged the politeness, and leaving him, went up to
my own room.
I entered it with a certain feeling of self congratulation. I was
pleased that I had divined the character of Louis, as I had found out
Lucien's.
I undressed deliberately, and having taken down a volume of Victor
Hugo's works, I lay down and enjoyed myself thoroughly with _Les
Orientales._
For the hundredth time I came upon _Le Feu du ciel,_ and re-read it
once more. I was fully occupied thus, when I fancied I heard a step
upon the staircase, which stopped at my door. I suspected that my host
had paused outside, wishing to bid me good-night, but scarcely liking
to venture in for fear I should be asleep; so I cried out "Come in,"
and put my book upon the table.
In fact, as I spoke the door opened, and Lucien appeared.
"I trust you will excuse me," he said; "but it seems to me that I have
been somewhat rude this evening, and I did not like to retire without
making my excuses to you. So I have come to make the _amende
honorable_--and as I daresay you have a number of questions to ask I
am quite at your disposal."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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