“Do you know, do you know? you are no _jettatore_!” “Am I not?” “No, no!” She took him by the shoulders and shook him. “Do you not see? do you not understand? It is taken from you.” Little Gandolfo’s voice was heard in the path outside the church. “Donna Micaela, Donna Micaela, where are you? There are so many people, Donna Micaela. Do you hear; do you hear?” “Is it no longer raining?” said the _jettatore_, in an uncertain voice. “It is not raining; how could it be raining? The Christ-image has taken the curse from you because you are going to work for his railway.” The man reeled and grasped at the air with his hands. “It is gone. Yes, I think it is gone. Just now it was there. But now--” He wished again to fall on his knees before Donna Micaela. “Not to me,” she said; “to him, to him.” She pointed to the Christ-image. But nevertheless he fell down before her. He kissed her hands, and with a voice broken by sobs he told her how every one had hated and persecuted him, and how much misery life had brought him hitherto. The next day the _jettatore_ went out on Etna and staked out the road. And he was no more dangerous than any one else. IX PALAZZO GERACI AND PALAZZO CORVAJA At the time when the Normans ruled in Sicily, long before the family of Alagona had come to the island, the two magnificent buildings, Palazzo Geraci and Palazzo Corvaja, were built in Diamante. The noble Barons Geraci placed their house in the square, high up on the summit of Monte Chiaro. The Barons Corvaja, on the other hand, built their home far down the mountain and surrounded it with gardens. The black-marble walls of Palazzo Geraci were built round a square court-yard, full of charm and beauty. A long flight of steps, passing under an arch adorned with an escutcheon, led to the second story. Not entirely round the court-yard, but here and there in the most unexpected places, the walls opened into little pillared loggias. The walls were covered with bas-reliefs, with speckled slabs of Sicilian marble and with the coats of arms of the Geraci barons. There were windows also, very small, but with exquisitely carved frames; some round, with panes so small that they could be covered with a grape leaf; some oblong, and so narrow that they let in no more light than a slit in a curtain. The Barons Corvaja did not try to adorn the court-yard of their palace, but on the lower floor of the house they fitted up a magnificent hall. In the floor was built a basin for gold-fish; in niches in the walls fountains covered with mosaic, in which clear water spouted into gigantic shells. Over it all, a Moorish vaulted roof, supported on slender pillars, with twining vines in mosaic. It was a hall whose equal is only to be seen in the Moorish palace in Palermo.