Two hours later, during the warm, clear afternoon, all the neighbouring
harvesters and farm-hands, who had been summoned by La Brevetta, were
assembled together in answer to the invitation. A number of great
straw stacks in the yard gleamed brightly golden in the sun; a flock of
geese, snowy white, with orange-coloured beaks, waddled slowly about,
cackling, and hunting for a place to swim while the smell of manure was
wafted at intervals from the barnyard. All these rustic men, waiting
to drink, were jesting contentedly, sitting upon their curved legs,
deformed by their labours; some of them had round, wrinkled faces
like withered apples, some were mild and patient in expression, some
showed the animation of malice, all possessed the incipient beards of
adolescence, and lounged about in the easy attitudes of youth, wearing
their new clothes with the manifest care of love.
Ciavola and Ristabilito did not keep them waiting long. Holding the box
of candy in his hand, Ristabilito ordered the men to form a circle, and
standing in the centre, he proceeded with grave voice and gestures to
give a brief harangue.
“Good men! None of you know Why Mastro Peppe De Sierri has called you
here....”
The men’s mouths opened in stupid wonder at this unexpected preamble,
and as they listened, their joy in anticipation of the promised wine
changed to an uneasy expectation of something else, they knew not what.
The orator continued:
“But as something unpleasant might happen for which you would reprove
me, I will tell you what is the matter before making any experiment.”
His listeners stared questioningly at each other with a look of
stupidity, then turned their gaze upon the curious and mysterious box
which the speaker held in his hands. One of them, when Ristabilito
paused to notice the effect of his words, exclaimed impatiently:
“Well, what is it?”
“I will tell you immediately, my good men. Last night there was stolen
from Mastro Peppe a beautiful pig, which was all ready for salting. Who
the thief is we do not know, but certainly he must be found among you
people, for nobody came from India to steal the pig from Mastro Peppe!”
Whether it was the playful effect of the strong argument about India,
or whether it was the heat of the bright sun cannot be determined, but
at any rate, La Brevetta began to sneeze. The peasants moved back,
the flock of geese ran in all directions, terrified, and the seven
consecutive sneezes resounded loudly in the air, disturbing the rural
quiet. An uproar of merriment seized the crowd at the great noise.
After they had again recovered their composure, Ristabilito went on
gravely, as before:
“In order to discover the thief, Mastro Peppe has planned to give you
certain good candies to eat, and some of his old Montepulciano wine
to drink, which will be tapped for this purpose today. But I must tell
you something. The thief, as soon as he bites the candy, will feel his
mouth so drawn up by the bitterness of the candy that he will have to
spit it out. Now, do you want to try this experiment? Or, is the thief,
in order not to be found out in such a manner, ready to confess now?
Tell me, what do you want to do?”
“We wish to eat and drink!” answered the crowd in a chorus, while an
excited motion ran through the throng, each man showing an expression
of curiosity and delight at the portentous demonstration about to be
made.
Ciavola said:
“You must stand in a row for this experiment. Now, one of you is to be
singled out.”
When they were all thus formed in a line, he took up the flask of wine
and one of the glasses, ready to pour it. Ristabilito placed himself
at one end of the line, and began slowly to distribute the candy,
which cracked under the strong teeth of the peasants and instantly
disappeared. When he reached Mastro Peppe, he took out one of the
canine candies, which had been marked, and handed it to him, without in
any way arousing suspicion by his manner.
Mastro Peppe, who had been watching with wide open eyes to detect the
thief, thrust the candy quickly in his mouth, with almost gluttonous
eagerness, and began to chew it up. Suddenly his jaw bones rose through
his cheeks towards his eyes, the corners of his mouth twisted upwards,
and his temples wrinkled, the skin of his nose drew up, his chin
became contorted, and all his features took on a comic and involuntary
expression of horror, a visible shiver passed down his back, the
bitterness of the aloes on his tongue was beyond endurance, his stomach
revolted so that he was unable to swallow the dose, and the unhappy man
was forced to spit it from his mouth.
“Oho, Mastro Peppe! What in the dickens are you doing?” cried out
Tulespre dei Passeri, a greenish, hairy old goat-shepherd,—green as
a swamp-turtle. Hearing his voice, Ristabilito turned around from his
work of distributing the candies. Seeing La Brevetta’s contortions, he
said in a benevolent voice:
“Well! Perhaps the candy I gave you is too sweet. Here is another one,
try this, Peppe,” and with his two fingers, he tossed into Peppe’s open
mouth the other canine pill.
The poor man took it, and feeling the sharp, malignant eyes of the
goat-herder fixed upon him, he made a supreme effort to endure the
bitterness. He neither bit nor swallowed it, but let it stay in his
mouth, with his tongue pressed motionless against his teeth. But in the
heat and dampness of his mouth, the aloes began to dissolve, and he
could not long endure the taste; his mouth began to twist as before,
his nose was filled with tears, the big drops ran down his cheeks,
springing from his eyes like uncut pearls, and at last, he had to spit
out the mouthful.
“Well, well, Mastro Peppe! What the dickens are you doing now?” again
exclaimed the goat-herder, showing his white and toothless gums as he
spoke. “Well, well! What does this mean?”
The peasants broke the lines, and crowded around La Brevetta, some
jeering and laughing, others with wrathful words. Their pride had been
hurt, and the ready brutality of the rustic people was aroused and
the implacable austerity of their superstitious natures broke out in a
sudden tempest of contumely and reproach.
“Why did you get us to come here to try to lay the blame of this thing
on one of us? So this is the kind of sorcery you have gotten up? It
was intended to fool us! And why? You calculated wrongly, you fool!
you liar! you ill-bred fool! you rascal! You wanted to deceive us, you
fool! you thief! you liar! You deserve to have every bone in your body
broken, you scoundrel! you deceiver!”
Having broken the wine flasks and all the glasses, they dispersed,
shouting back their last insults through the poplar grove.
Ciavola, Ristabilito, the geese, and La Brevetta were left alone in the
yard. The latter, filled with shame, rage, and confusion, his tongue
still biting from the acridness of the aloes, was unable to speak a
word. Ristabilito stood looking at him pitilessly, tapping the ground
with his toe as he stood supported on his heels, and shaking his head
sarcastically, then he broke out with an insinuating sneer:
“Ha! ha! ha! ha! Good, good, La Brevetta! Now, tell us how much you got
for the pig. Did you get ten ducats?”