 Chapter 5 of After the Divorce by Grazia de Leda Translated by Maria Horner Lansdale This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Denham Sunday morning, a fortnight later, found all the personages of our story assembled at Mass with priest Elias officiating. The country people said that when he celebrated he seemed to have wings. Giovanna alone was absent, and this for two reasons. First, her late misfortune required the observance of a sort of mourning. She was expected not to show herself outside the house except when her work made it necessary. Apart from this, however, she had fallen into a state of lethargy and appeared to be quite unable to move about, to go anywhere, to work, or even to pray. She had indeed never been much of a Christian at any time, though before the trial she had made a vow to walk barefoot to a certain church in the mountains and if Constantino were acquitted to drag herself on her hands and knees from the point where the church first came into view to its doors. That is, a distance of about two kilometres. Now she had ceased praying or talking or eating and even seemed to have lost all interest in her child. And Paquicia had to feed him with bread crumbled up in milk in order to keep the poor little fellow alive. Some of the neighbours said that Giovanna was losing her mind and indeed it did look so. She would remain for hours at a time in a sort of stupor crouched in a corner with her glassy eyes fixed on vacancy and when she aroused it was only to fly into violent paroxysms tearing her hair and crying out wildly. After the final interview with Constantino when she had had the child with her she could think of nothing else and describe the scene in the prison over and over again with the monotonous insistence of a monomaniac. He was there and he was laughing. He was livid and yet he laughed standing there behind the bars. Malthinedu seized hold of the bars and he touched his little hands and then he laughed. My heart, my heart, don't laugh like that. It hurts me because I know that it is how dead people laugh. And the guards standing there like harpies at first they were good to us those guards who watch over human flesh but afterwards when Constantino had been condemned they were cruel as cruel as dogs. Malthineu was frightened when he saw them and cried and his father laughed to you understand the baby the little innocent thing cried. He understood that his father had been condemned and he cried. Oh my heart, my heart. Then Aunt Bacchicia beside herself with impatience and unable to hold in any longer would exclaim honestly Giovanna anyone would take you to be two years old that child there has more sense than you Simpleton. And sometimes she would threaten to beat her but prayers, sympathy and threats were equally unavailing. Meanwhile word came from Nuoro that while waiting to hear from the appeal Constantino had been removed to the jurisdiction of Caliari. Then came a short sad little letter from the prisoner himself. The journey had gone well but there at Caliari the heat was suffocating and certain red insects and others of different colours tormented him night and day. He sent a kiss to the child and urged Giovanna to bring him up in the fear of God. He also asked to be remembered to his friend Isidoro On this Sunday therefore at the close of the mass Aunt Bacchicia waited till the fisherman should have finished singing the sacred lords in his ringing voice in order to deliver Constantino's message. Priest Elias remained kneeling on the steps of the High Altar with white ecstatic face and Isidoro still sang on but the people began to leave filing past Aunt Bacchicia as she stood waiting Aunt Martina passed with the fiery bearing of a blooded steed old but indomitable still. Bronto passed dressed in a new suit of clothes his hair shining with oil. He railed at the priests but on Sunday he went to Mass and Ciacobi passed in a pair of new linen trousers smelling strong of the shop. Still Isidoro sang on the church at last became almost empty the fisherman's sonorous voice resounded among the dusty white rafters the boards and beams of the roof the side altars covered with coarse cloths adorned with paper flowers and presided over by melancholy saints of painted wood. When Uncle Isidoro stopped at length there were only the priest a boy who was extinguishing candles Aunt Bacchicia and an old blind man left Isidoro had to repeat the final response to the lords himself then he got up put away the little bell used to mark the stations of the rosary and moved towards Aunt Bacchicia who stood waiting for him near the door they went out together and she gave him Constantino's message then she begged him to do her a favor it was to ask priest Elias to go to see Giovanna and try to reason her out of the condition she had allowed herself to fall into he promised to do so and they separated on the way home Aunt Bacchicia was joined by Ciacobi de Jas who had been standing on the open square before the church looking down at the village and the yellow fields all bathed in sunlight How are you? asked the herdsman Ah, good Lord, bad enough without being actually ill and you, how do you like your new place? Oh, I told you how it would be I'm out of the frying pan into the fire the old woman is as close as the devil she expects me to work till I fall to pieces and will hardly let me come into mass once a fortnight and the master? Oh, the master, well he's just a little beast, that's all What do you mean by saying such a thing as not, Ciacobi? Well, it's the simple truth, little springbird he growls and snarls over every trifle and gets drunk and lies like time I suppose Isidoro Pane told you he paused and Aunt Bacchicia fixing her small green eyes upon him reflected that if he talked like that about his master he must have some object Well, he resumed, Isidoro Pane must have told you of course he told you about Bronto being drunk that evening he was just here where we are now Bronto yelled out, tell Giovanna era that if she gets a divorce I'll marry her the beast that's just what he is, a beast he drinks brandy by the cask of the last claws of this speech, however Aunt Bacchicia took in not one word the fact that Bronto had said he would marry Giovanna if she got a divorce was all she comprehended her green eyes flashed as she asked totally and you wish him not too, Ciacobi? I? What difference would it make to me, little springbird? but you ought to be ashamed of yourself to think of such a thing, Aunt Kite hardly two weeks after I'm not a kite snapped the old woman angrily and though the other laughed she could see that he too was furious you might at least wait to hear from the appeal, said he and then you can devour Constantino as you would a lamb without spot yes, devour him if you want to but I can tell you that Giovanna will get a brandy bottle for her husband and just as long as Martina Dejas is alive you will starve worse than ever ah, you bald peat! began Aunt Bacchicia but Ciacobi walked rapidly away and she had only the satisfaction of hurling abuses retreating back not that she proposed to have Giovanna apply for a divorce heaven forbid with poor Constantino still under appeal and waiting there in that fiery furnace devoured by horrible insects no indeed but what right had that vile servant to talk of his master so what business was it of his to meddle in his master's concerns and Aunt Bacchicia decided then and there that that bald raven had himself taken a fancy to Giovanna and filled with this new idea she reached the cottage her immediate thought was to repeat the whole story to Giovanna but finding her for the first time in two weeks bathed and tranquilly engaged in combing out her long hair which fell down in heavy tumbled masses she was afraid to say a word End of Chapter 5 Recording by Tom Denham Chapter 6 of After the Divorce by Grazia de Leda translated by Maria Horner Lansdale this LibriVox recording is in the public domain Recording by Tom Denham Time passed by the autumn came and then the winter Constantino's appeal had of course been rejected as appeals always are One night he was fastened by a chain to another convict whom he had never seen and the two took their places in a long file of others all dressed in linen all silent like a drove of wild beasts controlled by some invisible power they were going where? they did not know they were silent why? they could not say presently they were all marched down to the water's edge put on board a long black steamer and shut into a cage still like wild beasts all about them lay the crystal sea across whose dark green waters the ruby and emerald reflections from the ship's lights danced and sparkled like strings of glittering jewels while above and girdling the great ring of water hung the deep blue sky like an immense silent veil dotted over with yellow starry flowers at first Constantino's sensations were not altogether unhappy true he was going into the unknown to fulfil a cruel destiny but down in the bottom of his heart he firmly believed that before very long he would be liberated and he never lost hope the bustle on deck the rattle of the chains and the first motion of the ship as it got underway filled him with childish curiosity he had never been to sea but as a boy he had often stood scanning the horizon and gazing at the grey stretch of the Mediterranean sometimes dotted over with the white wings of sailing vessels at such times as he stood among the wild shrubs and undergrowth of his native mountains he would dream of some day crossing that far away sea to distant unknown lands and to the golden cities of the continent he could read and write and had a book in which St. Peter's of Rome was depicted and in the chapter on sacred history there was an engraving of ancient Jerusalem Ha Jerusalem! according to his ideas Jerusalem must be the finest and largest city in the world and as he stood there dreaming among the bushes on Mount Bellu and gazing off at the grey Mediterranean it was to Jerusalem that he longed to go and now here he was crossing the sea but how different from his dreams yet so splendid was his conception of Jerusalem that if it had been thither that he was bound even a chained and condemned prisoner on his way to expiate a crime would nevertheless have been content to go the pitching and rolling of the ship was accompanied by the ceaseless rush of the water from the boughs some of the convicts chattered among themselves laughing and cracking jokes Constantino fell asleep and dreamed as he always did that he was at home again he had been set free almost immediately he dreamed and had gone home without letting Giovanna know a word about it so as to give her the unutterable joy of the surprise she kept saying but this is a dream, this is a dream the expenses of the trial had stripped the little house bare of everything even the bed was gone but nothing made any difference all the riches in the world could not compare with the bliss of being free and of living with Giovanna and Malthinedo but he was terribly tired so he curled himself up in the baby's cradle the cradle rocked harder and harder all the time Giovanna laughed and called out be careful not to fall out, Constantino, my dear, my lamb and the cradle rocked more than ever at first he laughed as well but all at once he found he was suffering then he fell head foremost on the ground and woke up there was a heavy sea on and Constantino was sick the ship struggled up to mountain heights and then plunged swiftly into bottomless gulfs of water the waves breaking even over the third deck all the conflicts were ill some still attempted to joke while others swore and one with a yellow cunning face he was Constantino's companion moaned and lamented like a child oh, he groaned, cowering down, gasping and frightened I was dreaming that I was at home and now, now, oh, oh, dear, sin Francis have pity on me notwithstanding his own misery both physical and mental, Constantino felt sorry for him patience, my brother, I was dreaming too about being at home I failed, cried another, as though my soul were melting away what a devil is the matter with this ship it seems to be trying to dance the sardine dance where at? some of the others still had sufficient spirit left to laugh the storm was increasing at times, Constantino thought he was dying and was frightened yet, on the other hand, he felt an unutterable weariness of life his soul seemed to be steeped in the same bitter fluid that his stomach was casting up never, not even at the moment when the sentence of condemnation had been passed upon him had he experienced anything like his present condition of hopeless misery he too began to swear and groan, doubling his fists and twisting his chilled toes may you die just as I am dying now, you murderous dogs who brought all this on me he muttered, while tears as bitter as gall welled up into his eyes towards dawn the wind subsided but even when the sickness had passed, Constantino found no relief he felt as though he had been beaten to the point of death and he was shaking with cold and exhaustion and dread the steamer relentlessly pursued its way oh, if it would only stop for just one moment a single moment of quiet, it seemed to Constantino would suffice to restore his strength but this continuous forging ahead the constant rolling, the never-ceasing roar of the waves as they lashed the sides of the vessel kept him in a state of nervous tremor on and on and on the long hours of agony dragged slowly by night came again and all the time his subtle-faced yellow-visaged companion hardly ceased to sigh in lament driving Constantino into a perfect frenzy of irritation sleep came at length and then, strange to relate he had the same dream as on the previous night only this time it was Giovanna who was in the cradle and the cradle was rocking quite gently when Constantino awoke the boat seemed hardly to move in the silence that precedes the dawn he heard a voice say that is procida he was shaking with cold and wondered if there were to land there where he thought he remembered to have heard the galleys were presently his companion awoke shivering and yawning prodigiously are we there? asked Constantino how do you feel? pretty well are we there? I don't know we are near procida is that where the galleys are? no, they are at Nicida said the other but we are not galle-birds he added with a touch of pride and then fell to yawning again oh how I was dreaming he said and then stopped overcome by the memory of his dream the prisoners were landed at Naples and immediately placed in a black and yellow van something like a movable sepulcher Constantino caught a brief glimpse of a wide expanse of smooth green water a quantity of huge steamers and innumerable small craft filled with gaily dressed men who shouted out all manner of incomprehensible things all around the boats on the surface of the green water floated weeds, scraps of paper, refuse of all kinds enormous buildings were outlined against the sky of deepest blue at Naples the conflicts were separated Constantino was taken off to the prison at Ex and saw his yellow visaged companion no more on reaching his destination Constantino was at once consigned to a cell where he was to pass the first six months of his term in solitary confinement this cell measured hardly two meters in length by six palms in breadth it was furnished with a rude folding bed which during the day was closed and fastened against the wall from the tiny window nothing could be seen but a strip of sky of the entire term of his imprisonment this was the dreariest period he would sit immovable for hours with his legs crossed and his hands clasped about his knee thinking but strangely enough he never either lost hope or rebelled against his fate he was persuaded that what he was enduring was in expiation of that mortal sin as he regarded it of having lived with a woman to whom he had not been married by religious ceremony and he felt an absolute certainty that this sin atoned for his innocence would someday be established and he would be set free at the same time although he did not despair he suffered acutely and passed the day's hours minutes in a state of nervous expectation of some change that never came and a prey to a devouring homesickness thus day by day hour by hour moment by moment he lived in his thoughts close to Giovanna and the child recalling with minute precision every little unimportant detail of the cottage life his past existence and the happiness that had once been his in addition moreover to his own misery he suffered at the thought of what Giovanna was enduring now and again in access of passionate tenderness having her far more than the child for its object would seize him and arouse him from his usual state of pence of melancholy then leaping to his feet he would stride back and forth two or at most three steps bringing him to the opposite wall where he would presently stop and throwing himself against it would beat his head as though trying to dash out his brains these were his moments of utmost desperation hope always returned however and then he would begin to weave fantastic dreams immediate and romantic restoration to freedom and the God never entered his cell that his heart did not begin to beat violently fancying that he was the bearer of some joyful tidings sometimes he played mora with himself and he cared so much whether he lost or won that he would laugh aloud like a child at other times he would sit for hours looking at his outstretched palm imagining that it was a plain divided into tankas with walls, rivers, trees, herds of cattle and shepherds and weaving stories about them all full of exciting adventures and sometimes he prayed counting on his fingers and repeating the lords aloud trying even to improvise new verses in this way it came about that he actually did compose a lord of four strophes dedicated to St. Constantino in which the saint's aid was particularly invoked in behalf of all prisoners wrongfully condemned the refrain rang St. Constantino we implore thee for thy condemned innocent the composing of this lord completely occupied him for many days and made him for the time being almost happy when it was finished he was wild with joy but instantly an overpowering desire to tell someone about it seized him whom was there though to tell the guard was a little neapolitan bald, clean shaven with a flat snub nose like that of a skeleton he talked to him sometimes but he was not sufficiently intelligent to understand the lord then there were the other prisoners whom he saw during the exercise hour but to them he was not allowed to speak finally he bethought him of the chaplain and asked to confess in order that he might have the opportunity to repeat the lord to him the chaplain was a northerner a young man tall and lean with quick nervous movements and great flashing black eyes filled with intelligence he listened patiently while Constantino repeated his lord and then inquired if he did not think that in asking to confess for the purpose of reciting it he had been guilty of the sin of vanity Constantino reddened and said no whereupon the confessor smiled indulgently reassured him, praised his verses and sent him off in a state of beatification a few days later the prisoner again asked to confess well, have you written another lord, asked the chaplain no said the other looking down but I want to ask a favour what is it, let us hear Constantino held his breath a moment frightened at his own temerity then he said quickly this is it, I want to send the lord home ah, said the chaplain, I can't do that how could you write it anyhow oh, I know how to write exclaimed the prisoner raising his clear eyes to the other's face but the trouble is, my brother, that you are not allowed to write oh, I can manage that well, well, but I can't, I can't do it Constantino looked extremely dejected and all but wept then he confessed asked whether it might not be better to dedicate the lord to St. Peter and Paul since they too had been in prison and begged to be forgiven if he had presumed too much in making such a request the young chaplain gave the absolution and prayed for some moments aloud the prisoner meanwhile praying to himself laying one hand on the other's head the priest said in a low voice listen, write out your lord if you can manage it and keep a brave heart a wave of joy swept over Constantino and from that moment he had no other thought than of how he might contrive to transcribe his verses I have been a student, he said one day to the guard but I know how to make shoes as well would you like to have me make you a pair? oh, I can fit you you want something, said the man in Neapolitan but it's no use, I will do nothing now, Uncle Serofino, be kind remember your immortal soul I remember my immortal soul well enough and I've told you before that I'm not your uncle you killed your uncle all right, it does not signify only in our part of the country we always call all the important people uncle Don Serofino, however, wanted his own title which Constantino for his part could not bring himself to employ since in Sardinia it is used only in addressing people of noble birth so for that day nothing was accomplished on the following morning the prisoner returned to the charge he recounted how he was of good family had received an education and fallen heir to a fortune this his uncle whom he had been accused of murdering had spent and had then shut him up in a dark little room and forced him to make shoes and once he had torn almost the entire skin off one of his feet he even offered to show the foot but Don Serofino declined with an expression of horror and cursed the dead man's cruelty under his breath the result was that Constantino presently found himself in possession of a sheet of paper and by means of blood and a small stick he succeeded in writing out the Lord for condemned prisoners thus the winter wore away one March Day a visit of inspection was made to Constantino's cell it was under the direction of a big man with two round staring pale blue eyes and so little chin that what he had was completely hidden by a heavy light moustache hello you there he said to the prisoner what can you do Don Serofino was with the party and as his eye fell upon him Constantino suddenly recalled the fancy sketch he had once given him I can make shoes he replied hello said the big man with the staring blue eyes you can well you murdered your uncle as the remark seemed to call for no reply Constantino merely moved his lips as though to say certainly I murdered my uncle may it please your mightiness the party moved on but before long Don Serofino returned and informed the prisoner that his term of solitary confinement had been shortened by more than a third and that he would soon be released from his cell Constantino supposed that he owed this favour to his good behaviour but Don Serofino explained that it was because he had interceded for him with the authorities telling him that the prisoner was of good family that one of his feet had been flayed and that he could make shoes a few days after this Constantino was taken from the cell and set to work in company with a number of others at making shoes he had moreover the privilege of writing once every three months to Giovanna all of these concessions made him quite happy when the spring came and the convicts who had suffered intensely from cold became gay and cheerful keeping up a continual flow of chaff during working hours two brothers from the Ebruzzi however who had asked us a special favour to be allowed to work together quarrelled so incessantly over the division of a piece of property that was to be settled on their release that is to say in ten years time that after falling upon one another one day they had to be separated and confined for two weeks in cells even then the very first time they encountered each other during the exercise hour they began fighting again it was during this hour of comparative freedom when the prisoners took their exercise in the courtyard that Constantino made the acquaintance of a compatriot another Sardinian this man who had received the nickname of the King of Spades on account of his triangular shaped face his big body and spindle legs was white and puffy and so closely shaven as to look quite bald he was an ex-martial of carboneers convicted of peculation and according to his own account was related to a cardinal who was secretly in friendly relations with the king and queen this person had she declared might shortly be expected to procure his pardon and not alone his but that of any among his friends whom he should recommend those for instance who supplied him with cigars, money or stamps he had been assigned for duty in the clerk's office and thus had many opportunities to communicate with persons outside to arrange clandestine correspondences between the prisoners and their families and to smuggle in money, tobacco, stamps and liquor all greatly to his own profit and advantage it was not long before he asked Constantino if he did not wish to send a letter home yes replied the young man but I am poor I have nothing to give you never mind said the other generously that makes no difference we are compatriots and forthwith he launched into an account of his exploits as a martial he had it appeared killed ten or more bandits in the course of his career and had received ten medals once when he happened to be in Rome the king had invited him to his box at the theatre he was in short a hero but of his crowning exploit he never spoke merely observing that he had been sent to prison through the machinations of powerful enemies at first in spite of his equivocal appearance Constantino believed it all and felt deeply sympathetic but gradually as day by day the accounts of the martial's adventures grew more varied and marvellous he became skeptical and ended by placing as little faith in what he said as did the others though they all pretended to be greatly impressed in order to obtain favours every member indeed of the little community not accepting the guards was both a liar and a hypocrite the prisoners all tried to make out that they were something quite different from what they appeared to be and each one had some remarkable explanation of how he happened to be there while the very fact of their being compelled quite against their will to associate closely and intimately together destroyed every spark of mutual regard that might under different circumstances have sprung up among them Constantino noted with surprise that those who were held for the more serious charges while they were the greatest braggarts and boasters seemed in other respects to be better than the rest the minor delinquents were almost without exception cowardly, surly and treacherous forning upon anyone who could do them a service and betraying their friends without hesitation when the occasion arose there is hardly a man in this place remarked the King of Spades one day to Constantino but what is utterly corrupt most of them are hardened criminals versed in every form of vice while the very air we breathe is contaminated and a man suddenly deprived of his liberty and cut off from society quickly goes to decay in such a place he loses all moral sense becomes deceitful cowardly and violent and soon grows so depraved that he cannot even realize his own depravity and he gave some startling instances in illustration of his point it is my belief he continued that among all who are here now, we too the duck-neck and the delegate are the only honest ones all the others are criminals be very wary with them, Constantino, my dear fellow countrymen this place is nothing but a den of bandits of a worse class even than those whom I put an end to sometimes Constantino felt quite depressed reflecting that if his own honesty made no better impression than that of the King of Spades there was little to be proud of the duck-neck was a Sicilian student a consumptive with white hair, a long neck and the body of a child though he spent most of his time reading was timid and shrinking and rarely spoke he would occasionally fly into such violent rages that he was obliged to submit to the embraces of Hermelinda as the prisoners called the straight jacket in one such paroxysm he had once killed a professor the delegate who looked like a gentleman was likewise a southerner he, it appeared, had been sent to prison out of pure envy he had a swelling chest and a noble head his nose was large and Grecian and there was a cleft in the middle of his lower lip his expression was haughty and repellent but as soon as he was approached he became extremely affable, even servile notwithstanding the powerful influence that was being exerted in his favour certain lofty personages, a minister in particular were persecuting him unrelentingly the student had lent him some scientific books and he was now bent upon writing a great scientific work himself being also assigned to the clerk's office he was able secretly to devote a good deal of his time to this splendid undertaking of which the king of spades gave glowing accounts see here, said he one day to Constantino that man will make all our fortunes we work every day on the book and have a set of phrases of our own referring to it but the utmost caution is necessary otherwise beware, everything may be ruined and it is a real scientific discovery I will run over the main heads for you how the atmosphere was formed, that is, the air how the ocean was formed, that is, all bodies of water origin of the organic world a rational demonstration of the existence of a primordial continent in the central tract of the Pacific Ocean upon this continent, human life first made its appearance passing the period of infancy in those tropical regions immigration into Africa and Asia the continent disappears by reason of a great cataclysm identification of this cataclysm with the flood of the Bible the other continents emerged then end of atmosphere, end of oceans end of the heavenly bodies, end of the earth and end of imprisonment inquired Constantino with a smile he had understood very little of the other's discourse only taking it for granted that as usual he was relating fiction the king of spades did have a listener however so he continued tranquilly just wait a moment the other chapters are amplification of the accepted doctrine of evolution evolution of our species from the anthropomorphic apes causes of the inclination of the axis of the planets but not Saturn reasons for this anomaly sunspots et cetera oh gold of a devil said Constantino to himself yawning prodigiously he was staring across the bare courtyard with his fountain playing in the middle and how about the magpie he presently asked pointing to one that had domesticated itself in the establishment the convicts gorged him with food and he had become fat and somnolent if by any chance he felt hungry he called certain of them by name in a queer shrill voice oh let him burst said the king of spades fretfully you are nothing but a child, Constantino more interested in that silly bird than in the scientific work of the very first importance indirectly I can lay claim to the magnum part of the discovery as it was I who brought the delegate and the duck-neck together we have already succeeded in dispatching an abstract of the work together with a letter addressed to the king to the prime minister but remember not a word of this to anyone one eminent scientist on reading the abstract exclaimed this is the loftiest manifestation we have yet had of Italian genius take my word for it, Constantino, my dear compatriot the delegate has reached a dizzy height he has some powerful friends who are now in Rome for the express purpose of working for his pardon but then he has powerful enemies as well however he will be liberated before long on account of this book Constantino found all this extremely tiresome but he pretended to listen as he was hoping soon to get an answer to his letter to Giovanna and wanted to keep any other's good graces the answer did arrive sure enough in May and gave him the most intense happiness Giovanna wrote that the boy had been unwell possibly because the anguish she had endured had affected her milk now however he was entirely well again Isidoro Pane had received the lords to Constantino written in blood and had wept when he read them and now he sang them in church the whole congregation accompanying him no one knew who had written the verses but Isidoro said an old man with a long snowy beard all dressed in white had appeared one day on the riverbank and handed them to him people said it was San Constantino or perhaps Jesus Christ himself and Jacoby DeGias had hired himself out to his rich relatives and the Nuoro lawyer had taken possession of the title to their house allowing the two women to live there for a small rent the rich DeGiasse's often had work for Aunt Paquicia and for her Giovanna as well so they managed to get along Pietro Pugnia had been ill with carbuncles and had died Annika with the silver shoulders was married an old shepherd had been arrested for stealing beehives thus the letter went on entirely filled with such simple chronicles which Duke Constantino however were fraught with the most intense interest as he read he seemed to breathe again his native air each item set before him a picture of the rocks and bushes the people and objects to which he was bound by the closest ties of habit and affection only it disturbed him a little to learn that Giovanna sometimes worked at the DeGiasse's he knew of Bronto's passion for her and that she had refused him and as he read this part of the letter he experienced a first vague sensation of alarm three francs were enclosed and when he reflected that this money might probably have come from the DeGiasse's he hated to touch it two francs he offered to the king of spades rather expecting that his dear compatriot would refuse to take them his dear compatriot on the contrary accepted them with alacrity remarking that they would serve as part payment for the person who conducted the clandestine correspondence under other circumstances this would have angered Constantino but just then he was so anxious to write again to Giovanna to maintain some sort of intercourse with his little far-off world that he would have sacrificed the half of his life to secure the good offices of the king of spades he read and reread his letter till he knew every word by heart during the day he hid it in the sole of his shoe ripping this open again each night and always as he sat silently bending over his work his mind dwelt continuously on the people and events in that little distant village and he identified himself so completely at times with the subject of his thoughts that he lost sight of his real surroundings he saw the old shepherd steel cautiously up to the hives his face and hands wrapped in cloths the spot is sunny, deserted all about like green fields dotted over with flowers dog roses, honeysuckle, sweet peas undulating lines of colour stretching away in all directions as far as the eye can reach the warm air is heavy with the odour of penny-royal and other aromatic herbs and the brooding silence is broken only by the low hum of the bees anxiously, Constantino follows every movement of the old thief as he first detaches the little cork hives from the flat stones on which they stand then tying them all together with a stout cord places them in a bag and makes off just at this point Constantino could not quite make up his mind as to the next act in the drama and as he was considering a shrill voice broke in on his reflections Constanti, Constanti! and arousing himself with an effort he saw the magpie fat and sleek hopping lazily about in the courtyard and stretching its blue wings in the sun at night with the precious letter safely deposited beneath his pillow he would resume the thread of his thoughts now it was the sonorous voice of his friend the fisherman that he would hear singing the lords and sometimes he almost wondered if Isidoro had not in truth seen on the riverbank among the oleander bushes bending over with their weight of fragrant pink blossoms the figure of an old man dressed in white with a long beard as snowy as the wool of a little newborn lamb ah surely it was the saint himself good son Constantino come to tell Isidoro that he had not forgotten the prisoner's unjustly condemned Constantino readily accepted this picture of the saint although the statue of him in the village church represented a robust and swarthy warrior good old saint, good Constantino soon, soon thou wilt free us all lest forever be thy name then the scene changes now it is the portico of the rich Dejasus house everyone is busy with the spun wool dividing it into long skeins preparatory to weaving it Giovanna comes and goes carrying huge bunches in her hands Bronto is there too seated on the threshold of the kitchen door with his legs well apart and between them laughing and unsteady stands the little mouth in edu I'm tolerable thought presently however remembering that Bronto is never at home except on holidays he is somewhat comforted and then he falls asleep his heart steeped in a mingled sensation of joy and pain End of chapter 6 Recording by Tom Denham Chapter 7 of After the Divorce by Grazia de Leda Translated by Maria Horner Lansdale This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Recording by Tom Denham Summer had come again How quickly the time passes said Aunt Martina as she sat spinning on the portico It seems only yesterday, Jacoby, that you took service with us and yet here you are back again to renew the contract Ah, the time does indeed pass quickly for us poor employers You have saved thirty silver scoody at the very least and have begun to build a house of your own But what have we to show for it? That's all very well, but how about the sweat of my brow, little springbird The sweat of my brow doesn't that count for anything? replied the herdsman who was busily greasing a leather cord with tallow But there's your keep! rejoined the old woman Ah, you've forgotten to allow for that Make the crows pick your bones, thought Jacoby who would have liked to say it aloud but was afraid to He thoroughly detested both his employers the miserly old woman and the weak, hot-headed son who tormented him continually with his project of marrying Giovanna if she would get a divorce It was important though for him to renew the contract so he held his tongue He greased the thong thoroughly, rolled it up and took it into the house Then he asked permission to go off to attend to a piece of business of his own and having received a grudging assent, departed Walking in the direction of the era cottage the herdsman presently described little Malthinadu bestriding with very unsteady seat a spirited stick-horse the son gilding his dirty little white frock his stout legs and bare arms stooping down with outstretched arms Jacoby barred the way Where are we off to? he asked caressingly There's the son, don't you see it? Ah-hee, ah-hee! Maria Petina will come with her firecomb and snatch you up and carry you off to the hobgoblins Run back quickly to the house No! No! shouted the child jumping up and down on his steed Well then, said Jacoby lowering his voice and closing one eye as he pointed to the White House Aunt Martina is up there and to save bread she eats little children Don't you see her? The boy seemed to be impressed and allowed himself to be led back to the cottage still insisting, however, upon riding his stick Giovanna was sewing at the door as round and fresh and rosy as though no misfortune had ever befallen her Above her pretty face the mass of wavy hair thick glossy coils Seeing Jacoby approach with the child she raised her head and smiled Here he is, said the herdsman I am bringing him safely back to you but I found him playing in the sun and travelling straight towards Aunt Martina Who eats children so as to save bread? Oh, go away, said Giovanna You ought not to tell children such things I tell them to groan people as well for Aunt Martina eats them too Look out, Giovanna era the first thing you know, she will eat you and all the more because you are like a ripe quince No, not that either quince or yellow, aren't they? You are more like an Indian fake She suggested laughing And how is Aunt Bacchissia? Is it long since you heard from Constantino? At this Giovanna became suddenly grave replying with an air of mystery that they had had news of the prisoner only a short time before Ah, said the man without pressing the matter further Can you tell me if Isidoro Panni is anywhere about? I want to see him Yes, she replied sadly taking up her work again He is at home Jacoby said goodbye and walked thoughtfully away in the direction of Isidoro's house if house it could be called which stood at the other end of the village The fisherman in justice to whom it should be said that he fished for trout and eels and creatures whenever he had the opportunity was seated in the shadow of his hut mending a net This hut, which stood in the fields a little apart from the rest of the village was a prehistoric structure composed of rough pieces of slate dating possibly from the time when men, not yet having mastered the art of cutting stones for themselves used such pieces as had already been detached by nature It was roofed over with sticks and bits of tile above which flourished a vigorous growth of vegetation The sun was sinking after a day of intense heat Not a leaf stirred in the row of dusty trees along the scorched, deserted village street Far off, the yellow uplands furrowed by long, slanting shadows were immersed in floods of crimson light and beyond them rose the rugged line of purplish mountains a row of huge red sphinxes covered with a veil of violet gauze The all-pervading stillness was pierced by the distant note of a blackbird Wild figs with coarse dark foliage and a hedge of wild robinia among whose branches hairy nettles and the whitish-leaved henbane had wound and interlaced themselves and surrounded the hut and from the doorway could be seen a wide expanse of country lonely and vaporous as the sea The atmosphere was filled with the acrid odour of stubble and dried asphodel and the ground was so thickly covered with dead leaves and twigs and bits of straw the Jacobi had got quite close to the old fisherman What are we about now? cried the herdsman gaily The other raised his eyes without lifting his head and regarding his visitor curiously for a moment made no reply dropping cross-legged on the ground Jacobi watched him as he mended the net with wax twine fredded in a huge rusty needle Well, really! said the herdsman presently with a laugh I should think the little fishers would find no difficulty in coming and going at their pleasure Then let them come and go at their pleasure Little spring bird said the fisherman mimicking Jacobi's favourite mode of address What are you doing here? Have you left your place? No, on the contrary I have just made a new contract with those black beetles of rich relations But I want to speak to you about something serious, Uncle Sidore First, though, tell me how your legs are and is it long since you last saw San Constantino on the riverbank the old man frowned He disliked to hear sacred things alluded to with irreverence If that is what you came for, said he you can take yourself off at once Oh, well, there's no need to get angry Here, I'll tell you what I came for It really is important But as for irreverence if you find me turning into a heathen you must blame the little master He is always pitching into the saints He gets terribly frightened, though whenever he thinks he is going to die Just listen to this The other night we saw a shooting star It fell plum down from the sky like a streak of melted gold and looked as though it had struck the earth Bronto threw himself down full length on the ground yelling, if this is the last day have mercy on us, good lord And there he stayed until I swear I wanted to kick him And you were not frightened? I? No, indeed, little springbird I saw the star disappear right away But the very first moment that you saw it tell the truth now You were scared then, weren't you? Oh, well, go to the devil Perhaps I was But see here, what I came for was to talk to you about him, the master If he is not crazy, then no one is in the whole world He wants you to go to Giovanna era and to suggest to her to get a divorce and marry him Isidoro dropped his work and mist rose before his calm, honest eyes He clasped his hands, arresting his chin on them and began shaking his head And how about you? He asked in a stern voice Are you not just as crazy to dare to come to me with such a proposition? Yes, I understand You are afraid of losing your place What a poor creature you are Ho-ho! cried the other banteringly So that's your idea, is it, you and your leeches? Oh, you mean to be funny, do you? Well, at this time this was put a stop to Tell your master that he has got to bring this business to an end The whole neighborhood has heard about it and people are talking My dear friend, we have only just begun and here you are, talking of ending it I have had enough of it I assure you for more noon and night that brandy bottle does nothing but talk to me about it I had to promise him at last that I would see you so here I am But I can tell you not to talk on his side There is only one person, Uncle Isidoro who can really put a stop to this scandalous business and that is Giovanna herself You must go to her and tell her to make that beast shut up I can do nothing more Isidoro gazed at him with wide unseeing eyes He appeared not to be listening Presently he resumed his work murmuring Poor Constantino, poor lamb What have they done to you? Yes, indeed, he is innocent said Jacobi and any day at all he may come back This craze of brontous has got to be stopped Then there is Aunt Bacchicia as well hovering over her like a vulture over its prey Poor Constantino, poor lamb What have they done to you? Repeated Isidoro paying not the smallest heed to anything that Jacobi said The latter became annoyed raising his voice until it echoed through the surrounding silence and solitude he shouted What have they done to him? What are they going to do to him? Why don't you listen to what I am telling her you old rag heap? You must go and talk to her right away There she is, cheerful and rosy and ready to fall at the first touch like a ripe apple At heart though she is not bad and if you will predispose her against it make her see what she ought to do the whole thing may be prevented Get up, get along, move, do something Here is your chance to perform miracles if you really are a saint as the sinners seem to think Ah, ah, ah, sighed the old man rising to his feet His tall figure, majestic even in its rags stood out in the crimson light against the background of dark hedge and distant misty horizon like that of some venerable hermit I will go he said, sighing heavily and at the words Jacobi felt as though a great weight had been rolled from his breast from then on the two men worked steadily together in the interest of the far away prisoner finding themselves opposed however by three active and united forces as well as by the passive resistance of Giovanna the three forces against which they had a contend were the brute passion of Bronto the grasping greed of Aunt Bacchicia and Aunt Martina's self-interest she being now wholly in favour of Bronto's scheme Giovanna, she argued was though poor, both healthy and frugal and she knew how to work like a beast of burden a woman in good standing coming into the house as a bride might entail all manner of extravagance and outlay and the wedding alone would be sure to mean a heavy expense whereas in the case of Giovanna the marriage would be conducted almost in secret and she would steal into the house like a slave shrewd Aunt Martina thus the month rolled over the little slate stone village the desolate mountains the yellow stretch of uplands autumn came soft melancholy days when the sea lay beneath a veil of mist on the horizon and dark clouds like huge crabs travelled slowly across the pale sky trailing long lines of vapour behind them sometimes though it would turn cold and the atmosphere would be like a spring of limpid water fresh, clear and sparkling on such an evening as this when a long violet coloured cloud hung in the eastern heavens like an island in a crystal sea and the scent of burning time came from the fields which the peasants were making ready for sowing Bronto would swallow great gulps of brandy to take off the evening chill and then throwing himself down in the back of the hut would lie dreaming as warm and happy as a cat his eyes fixed on the violet coloured cloud on the distant horizon all about the cabin in every direction as far as the eye could reach stretched the broad tank as of the disasses billowy undulations losing themselves in the fading daylight here and there amid golden brown stubble were dark squares of newly turned earth swollen by the rain and patches of fresh grass and purple autumnal flowers sending out a damp perfume clouds of wild birds and large crows as black and shining as polished metal poured out of the clumps of Ascentio which half hidden among the wild roses and the clustering arbute with its shining leaves and yellow berries looked like tummelier vashes in one of the tankas two peasants, farmhands of the disasses were burning brush preparatory to plowing for the wheat and barley crops the flames crackled as the wind blew them hither and thither pale yet in the evening light and transparent as yellow glass the smoke hanging over them in low light clouds like fragrant incense then melting away along the tops of the hedges and closing the sheepfolds each bare thorny twig seemed to stand out separately in the crystal atmosphere like a tracery of amethyst coloured lace the animals had all been herded for the night except a few horses which could be seen here and there with noses to the ground cropping the short grass from without the hut came the sound of Jacoby's voice then the faint tinkle of a cowbell the prolonged far away howl of a dog the harsh screaming of a crow within, extended like a bedouin on a pile of skins and warm coverings Bronto dreamed his one unvarying dream while the fiery liquor coursing through his veins filled him with a delicious sense of warmth and comfort Ah! how the young proprietor did love Brandy not so much for his penetrating odor and sharp biting taste as for that glowing sensation of happiness that stole over his heart after drinking it but woe betide anyone who meddled with him at such times instantly his mood would change and the sweetness turned to gall it seemed to him that dogs must feel just as he did then when someone tramples on their tails as they lie asleep he would arouse in a state of fury and lose the thread of his dream yes he loved Brandy wine was good too but not so good as Brandy his father before him had liked ardent spirits so much so in fact that one day after drinking heavily he fell into the fire and was so badly burned that heaven preserves he died of the effects but there enough of such melancholy thoughts nowadays people are more careful they don't allow themselves to tumble into the fire moreover to balance the passion for Brandy Brandy had his other passion for Giovanna ah! Brandy and Giovanna the two most beautiful ardent intoxicating things in the whole world but where Giovanna was concerned Brandy was as timid and fearful as he was reckless in the matter of Brandy he trembled merely at the thought of approaching her of speaking to her on those days when he knew that she was working for his mother he fairly yearned to go home to gaze at her to see her working there in his own house and yet he dared not stir from the tanker now though as time went on he was growing weary of waiting a devouring anxiety moreover had seized upon him what if by hesitating so long he would meet with another refusal tormented by this thought he longed to tell her of his solicitude for her how in order to console her for all that had occurred he would gladly have married her at once immediately after Constantino's sentence his ideas differed from those of most people but he was made that way and could not change at bottom, like most drunkards he had not a bad heart nor was he immoral his one passion apart from drink had always been for Giovanna ever since when as a boy he had come with his family to live in the house on the hill she was only fifteen then and very fresh and beautiful every time he looked at her even in those days he had flushed even to his hands and though she had noticed it she had not seemed to mind he never said anything though and so at last when one day he screwed up his courage to the point of persuading his mother to go to Antbacchizia with an offer of marriage it was too late the position had been filled Giovanna at that time had been as spirited and passionate as a young colt and as utterly indifferent to worldly considerations she might have married Bronte de Jace at first for his beautiful teeth but having once fallen in love with Constantino she would not have thrown him over for the viceroy himself had Sardinia still possessed one the twilight deepened the sky grew more and more crystalline like a vast mirror the little violet cloud grew ledden and opaque then long and scaly like some monster fish the sounds from without rising clearer than ever in the intense stillness of the hour and place it seemed to Bronte that he must be dreaming when the voice of Antbacchizia suddenly broke in upon his reverie Santo Giovanni Battista mio exclaimed the harsh melancholy voice if I am not mistaken that is Jacoby de Jace at your service replied the herdsman in a tone of amazement would what wind blows you to these parts little spring bird ah I am here at last where is Bronte de Jace Bronte rushed out of the hut his knees shaking and his brain in such a whirl that he could hardly discern Antbacchizia's black-robed figure as she stood holding her shoes in one hand and balancing a bundle on her head Antbacchizia he cried in great agitation here I am good evening come here come right in here the woman flew towards him closely followed by the herdsman ah Bronte to my dear boy if I am not dead tonight it must mean that I shall never be three hours I have been walking I lost my way I must see you about something but be patient for a moment patient with his whole being in such a state of turmoil that he could hardly keep back the tears taking her by the hand he led her inside the hut while Jacoby seeing that he was to have no part in the interview went around to the back and listened with all his ears raging meanwhile inwardly like a wild bull not a word however reached him the conference was extremely short Antbacchizia refusing even to sit down she said she said that she had lost her way looking for Bronte's sheepfolds and that Giovanna would be getting very anxious as she thought she had merely gone into the fields to look for greens yes it was quite true she penned largely upon greens for their food so bitter was their poverty and what had brought her now was nothing less than to ask Bronte for some money oh alone yes thank heaven only alone if they should not be able to repay it then she and Giovanna would work it off for months they had not paid any rent rent for their own house now the lawyer was threatening to a victim and where would we go Bronte de Jas concluded Antbacchizia clasping her gnarled and yellow hands tell me where would we go Bronte to my soul his breast heaved he wanted to seize the old woman in his arms and shout why don't my house that is where you would go but he did not dare as there was no money at the hut Bronte decided to go home for it at once he wished anyhow to return with Antbacchizia going outside he called to Jacoby to saddle the horse immediately what has happened asked the man is your mother dead God rest her soul no replied Bronte cheerfully nothing has happened that in any way concerns you Jacoby began saddling the horse but he was consumed with curiosity to know why Antbacchizia had come and why Bronte was going back with her she has come to borrow some money he reflected and he has none he is going home to get it for her listen Bronte he called and when the other had come quite close he said if she wants money and you haven't got any here I can let you have some yes she does she wants to borrow some money said Bronte in a low tone quivering with delight and excitement but I am going back with her to get it whether you have it here or not that makes no difference I am going to see Giovanna this very evening at her own house I am going to talk to her and do for myself what not one of all you donkeys has had sense enough to do for me man cried Jacoby angrily you must be going mad all right let me go mad see here draw the girth tighter ah swelling out your sides are you he added addressing the horse you don't fancy night excursions what will you say when the old woman is mounted on the cropper she too exclaimed Jacoby she too yes what business is it of yours isn't she my mother-in-law you go too fast upon my word look out or you will have a fall and break your neck little spring bird ah you are really an earnest you really mean to marry that beggar that married woman when you might have a flower for your wife well I can tell you one thing Constantino Lenda is innocent some day he will come back you remember that some day he will come back let me alone Jacoby Dijaz and attend to your own affairs there put a bag on the cropper and Bacchissia he called to the old woman Jacoby ran quickly into the hut and fell over and Bacchissia who was just coming out you ought to be ashamed of yourself he said trembling you are worse than any beggar oh I'm going to talk to Giovanna I am going to talk to her myself you are a fool said the woman then lowering her voice she called him by an outrageous name and passed out a few minutes later the two set forth Jacoby watched them as they slowly moved away in the fading light across the solitary tanka further and further along the winding path beyond the thickets beyond the clumps of bushes beyond the smoke of the brushwood fires until at last they were lost to sight then an access of blind fury seized him clutching the cap from his head he flung it from him as far as he could he went up again and felt a beating the dog the poor beast set up a prolonged howl that filled the silent waste and was echoed back again with a sound like the despairing cry of some wandering phantom night fell Jacoby throwing himself down on the pelas which Bronto had quitted shortly before smelled an odour of brandy he got up found his master's flask and drank then he lay down again and presently he too felt something bubble up in his breast bathe his heart scorch his eyelids mount gurgling to his brain his anger melted suddenly away and was replaced by a feeling of melancholy through the open door he could see the bright red glow of the brush fires gradually overpowering the fading twilight as the two merged they formed a single hue of violet indescribably melancholy in tone now and again the dog gave another long howl oh what misery what misery why had he Jacoby beaten that poor dog what had it done to him? nothing he was filled with remorse the foolish emotional remorse of the drunkard yet so irritating were the sounds that he had a strong impulse to rush out and beat the unfortunate beast again all at once his mind recurred to Bronto and Aunt Bacchicia whom he had forgotten for the moment and he began to tremble violently what had happened? had Giovanna given in ah what made that dog bark like that it was like the shriek of a dead person the voice of Basil E. Ledder who was murdered poo poo the dead cannot cry out that is nothing but the howling of a dog he laughed softly drowsily to himself his heavy eyelids closed shutting out the opaque violet colored mist that hung like a curtain before the open door he felt as though a sack filled with some soft but heavy substance were pressing down upon him so that he could not move yet the sensation was agreeable a thousand confused images chased one another through his brain among other things he dreamed that he was dead and that his soul had entered into the body of a dog a gaunt little yellow Kerr who was running around and around Aunt Bacchicia's kitchen searching for bones Constantino was sitting by the fire he was dressed in red and there was a great chain lying at his feet all at once he saw the dog and flung the chain at it the creature's head was caught fast and circled in one of the iron rings and Giacobbe stricken with terror forced himself to cry out to make them understand it was he he awoke perspiring and shouting little spring bird night had fallen the deserted tanker stretching away beneath a clear sky sparkling with big yellow stars glowed with the red light of the brush fires Giacobbe could not get to sleep again he turned and twisted from one side to the other but the intoxicating effect of the brandy had passed leaving his mouth dry and feverish he got up and drank then he remembered that he had taken nothing to eat that evening for a long time he stood leaning against the door of the hut his face lighted up by the glow of the fires shall I get something to eat or not he asked himself hardly conscious that he did so up at the stars almost midnight what had that little beast his master accomplished he wondered and his anger rose again but chiefly against and pachysia what impudence to come all the way to this distant spot just to further the little proprietors outrageous plans for he knew perfectly well that the loan was merely an excuse of that old harpy to draw Bront to on him to a decision to make him commit himself ah what a low creature that woman was had she no conscience at all did she not believe in God at this point Jacoby grew thoughtful and presently he threw himself down again still debating whether or no he were hungry and whether it were worthwhile to get something to eat no he decided he was not hungry nor thirsty nor sleepy nor could he rest lying down or sitting up or standing he yawned noisily and began talking aloud mumbling foolish disconnected things in a vain effort to distract his thoughts which however continued to dwell persistently upon that thing it was horrible horrible maria woman who had another husband already and suppose Constantino should have thought who knows everything is possible in this world and even if he were never to return there was the boy how about him what would he think when he grew up and found that his mother had two husbands what a law that was ha the men who make the laws are pretty queer and Jacoby laughed mirthlessly for down in the bottom of his heart his inclination was to do anything else but laugh getting up he seized the brandy flask saying to himself that if Bronto should display any curiosity as to who had drunk his brandy why so much the worse for him I'll tell him it was the spirits haha he laughed again took a deep draft and throwing himself down quickly fell into a heavy sleep and dreamed that he was telling a sister of his all about his other dream of Constantino and the yellow dog and the chain when he awoke the sun was already above the horizon pushing through a bank of bluish cloud the morning was cold with light drifting clouds and the thickets bushes stubble every spear of grass sparkled with dew in the slanting of the sun once more the birds bustled in and out among the bushes burst into song rushed together in little groups or poised gracefully in the misty air now and then the chorus of chirps and twitters would swell into something so acute and piercing that it was almost like the patter of metal raindrops sometimes a shrill whistle or the strident note of a crow would break into this silvery harmony then all would die away swallowed up in the vast silence of the uplands Jacoby came out of the hut yawning and stretching he yawned so violently that his jaws cracked and his smooth shaven face folded into innumerable tiny wrinkles about the round open mouth and his little oblique eyes yellow in the sunlight scattered like those of a dog well he thought pressing both hands to his stomach I have cramps here what did I do last evening he threw open the folds a ram with curved horns came out snuffing the ground closely followed by a yellowish bunch of sheep all trying to tread in his tracks and all likewise snuffing the ground others came and still others the folds were empty still Jacoby stood close to the enclosure motionless buried in thought yes last evening I had nothing to eat I drank the little master's brandy and then I had dreams yes yes that was it Constantino and the dog and my sister Ana Rosa well damn him why didn't he come back the little toad drunk just like a beast yes he moralized walking towards that a drunken man is like a beast he does not know what he's doing and braves out everything in his mind a dangerous thing that Jacoby Dijas you bald bait get that well into your head it's dangerous no no I'll never get drunk again may the Lord punish me if I do a little later the young master returned Jacoby intent and smiling watched him closely ah said he stepping forward solicitously you look like a man who has had a whipping what has happened nothing get away but nothing was further from the others intention he began to circle around his master falling upon him and making little bounds towards him like a dog teasing persistently to be told what had occurred at last Bronto who really longed to unburden himself yielded well then yes Giovanna had in fact driven him away like an important beggar she had asked him if he had forgotten that she had a son who would want a spit at her and demand to know how it was that she had two husbands my soul I knew it cried Jacoby leaping in the air for joy what did you know why that she had a son well I knew that myself she chased me out of the house that's the whole of it I could hear the two the mother and daughter from the road quarreling furiously together and then Bronto went to look for his brandy flask Jacoby was so overjoyed that he could have laughed aloud for glee look here he called the spirits came last night and drank your brandy ha ha ha but there must be some left I am sure there's still some left Bronto drank eagerly without making any reply then he flung the flask angrily at the herdsman who caught it in the air and Bronto having drunk for sorrow Jacoby proceeded to drink for joy End of chapter 7 Recording by Tom Denham