An ominous blue
metal tablet with a red cross, bearing the white-lettered words
"VIGILANZA NOTTURNA."
Was it some anti-burglary association? I enquired of a serious-looking
individual who happened to be passing.
His answer did not help to clear up matters.
"A pure job, signore mio, a pure job! There is a society in Cerignola
or somewhere, a society which persuades the various town
councils - persuades them, you understand - - "
He ended abruptly, with the gesture of paying out money between his
finger and thumb. Then he sadly shook his head.
I sought for more light on this cryptic utterance; in vain. What were
the facts, I persisted? Did certain householders subscribe to keep a
guardian on their premises at night - what had the municipalities to do
with it - was there much house-breaking in Manfredonia, and, if so, had
this association done anything to check it? And for how long had the
institution been established?
But the mystery grew ever darker. After heaving a deep sigh, he
condescended to remark:
"The usual camorra! Eat - eat; from father to son. Eat - eat! That's all
they think about, the brood of assassins. . . . Just look at them!"
I glanced down the street and beheld a venerable gentleman of kindly
aspect who approached slowly, leaning on the arm of a fair-haired
youth - his grandson, I supposed. He wore a long white beard, and an air
of apostolic detachment from the affairs of this world. They came
nearer. The boy was listening, deferentially, to some remark of the
elder; his lips were parted in attention and his candid, sunny face
would have rejoiced the heart of della Robbia. They passed within a few
feet of me, lovingly engrossed in one another.
"Well?" I queried, turning to my informant and anxious to learn what
misdeeds could be laid to the charge of such godlike types of humanity.
But that person was no longer at my side. He had quietly withdrawn
himself, in the interval; he had evanesced, "moved on."
An oracular and elusive citizen. ...
III
THE ANGEL OF MANFREDONIA
Whoever looks at a map of the Gargano promontory will see that it is
besprinkled with Greek names of persons and places - Matthew, Mark,
Nikander, Onofrius, Pirgiano (Pyrgos) and so forth. Small wonder, for
these eastern regions were in touch with Constantinople from early days,
and the spirit of Byzance still hovers over them. It was on this
mountain that the archangel Michael, during his first flight to Western
Europe, deigned to appear to a Greek bishop of Sipontum, Laurentius by
name; and ever since that time a certain cavern, sanctified by the
presence of this winged messenger of God, has been the goal of millions
of pilgrims.
