Shaken in the late earthquake - he was obliged to halt, and
thenceforward stumbled slowly into the place. There he deposited the bag
on the ground, and faced me squarely.
"No more of this!" he said, concentrating every ounce of his virility
into a look of uncompromising defiance.
"Then I shall not pay you a single farthing, my son. And, moreover, I
will tell your father. You know what he commanded: to Sinopoli. This is
only Sant' Eufemia. Unless - - "
"You will tell my father? Unless - - ?"
"Unless you discover some one who will carry the bag not only to
Sinopoli, but as far as Delianuova." I was not in the mood for repeating
the experiences of the morning.
"It is difficult. But we will try."
He went in search, and returned anon with a slender lad of unusual
comeliness - an earthquake orphan. "This big one," he explained, "walks
wherever you please and carries whatever you give him. And you will pay
him nothing at all, unless he deserves it. Such is the arrangement. Are
you content?"
"You have acted like a man."
The earthquake survivor set off at a swinging pace, and we soon reached
Sinopoli - new Sinopoli; the older settlement lies at a considerable
distance. Midday was past, and the long main street of the town - a
former fief of the terrible Ruffo family - stood deserted in the
trembling heat.
