ou do not love her, what the devil
does it concern you if the young whelp says so, or whether he cares for
her himself; or even whether he attempts to seduce her?"

"You are a boor and a scoundrel to use such language!"

"And what are you, pray, who can openly abuse a young man for the crime
of talking and jesting with his cousin?"

"Jesting with her!" repeated Mansana scornfully, with clenched fists
and knitted brows; whilst Sardi interjected:

"Who is to look after her when you are gone?"

"I shall not go!" shouted Mansana.

"You will not go? Have you lost your senses?"

"I shall not go," repeated Mansana, his hands and arms raised above his
head as if in confirmation of an oath.

Sardi was taken aback.

"Then you really do love her?" he whispered.

Mansana recoiled. A groan, as from the strength of his whole frame,
alarmed Sardi, who feared an attack of apoplexy, but after a brief
struggle with himself, Mansana's countenance cleared, and slowly, as
though unconsciously and to himself, he murmured:

"Yes, I love her!" Then, turning to Sardi, he added: "And I shall not
go away!"

And from that moment he was like a driven hurricane of wind.

He turned and hurried away, in a storm of passion.

"Where are you making for?" asked Sardi, as he hastened after him.

"I am going to Borghi."

"But we had agreed that I was to see him."

"Very well, then, go!"

"But where are you going?"

"To find Borghi!" Then he added passionately, "I love her, and whoever
tries to take her from me shall die!" And again he turned to go.

"But does she love you?" shouted Sardi, quite forgetting that they were
in the public street.

And once more raising his strong, sinewy hands above his head, Mansana
answered, in a hollow voice:

"She _shall_ love me!"

Sardi grew alarmed.

"Giuseppe, you are mad! You have been over excited, and it is only this
unnatural condition of your mind which causes you to feel and speak
like this. You are not yourself, Giuseppe! Do not run away from me!
Don't you see that you are attracting the attention of the people in
the street?"

At that Mansana stopped.

"Do you know what it is that makes me furious, Cornelius? It is the
thought that I ever paid attention to those people in the street! I
must needs hold my tongue, suffer, and be trampled on! This is what
makes me furious."

He drew a step nearer Sardi.

"And now," he said, "I mean to proclaim it aloud to all the world; I
love