ieved that there was
nothing further in his thoughts.

"But when night fell he disappeared.

"His enemy had, the same evening, to repair to Corte on foot,
accompanied by his two bridesmen.

"He was pursuing his way, singing as he went, when St. Lucia stood
before him, and looking straight in the murderer's face, exclaimed:
'Now is the time!' and shot him point-blank in the chest.

"One of the bridesmen fled; the other stared at the young man saying:

"'What have you done, St. Lucia?'

"Then he was going to hasten to Corte for help, but St. Lucia said in
stern tone:

"'If you move another step, I'll shoot you through the legs.'

"The other, aware that till now he had always appeared timid, said to
him: 'You would not dare to do it!' and he was hurrying off when he
fell instantaneously, his thigh shattered by a bullet.

"And St. Lucia, coming over to where he lay, said:

"'I am going to look at your wound; if it is not serious, I'll leave
you there; if it is mortal I'll finish you off.'

"He inspected the wound, considered it mortal, and slowly re-loading
his gun, told the wounded man to say a prayer, and shot him through
the head.

"Next day he was in the mountains.

"And do you know what this St. Lucia did after this?

"All his family were arrested by the gendarmes. His uncle, the cure,
who was suspected of having incited him to this deed of vengeance, was
himself put into prison, and accused by the dead man's relatives. But
he escaped, took a gun in his turn, and went to join his nephew in the
cave.

"Next, St. Lucia killed, one after the other, his uncle's accusers,
and tore out their eyes to teach the others never to state what they
had seen with their eyes.

"He killed all the relatives, all the connections of his enemy's
family. He massacred during his life fourteen gendarmes, burned down
the houses of his adversaries, and was up to the day of his death the
most terrible of the bandits, whose memory we have preserved."

* * * * *

The sun disappeared behind Monte Cinto and the tall shadow of the
granite mountain went to sleep on the granite of the valley. We
quickened our pace in order to reach before night the little village
of Albertaccio, nothing better than a heap of stones welded beside the
stone flanks of a wild gorge. And I said as I thought of the bandit:

"What a terrible custom your vendetta is!"

My companion answered with an air of resignation: