Efix opened the door again. A dark figure climbed the hillside, on which the mini beans billowed silvery in the moonlight, and the servant, to whom even the human figures seemed uneasy at night, crossed again. Suddenly a well-known voice called him. It was the lively but slightly gasping voice of a young fellow who lived next to the Pintor ladies' house.
"Godfather Efix, Godfather Efix!"
'What's up, Zuannantò? Are my ladies well ? «
"I think so. They just tell you that you want to return to the village early tomorrow - they have to speak to you. It is probably because of a yellow letter that I saw in Fraulein Noemi's hand. Fraulein Noemi read it softly, and Fraulein Ruth, who looked like a nun in her white headscarf, was sweeping the yard, but leaned idly on the broomstick and listened . «
"A letter? Don't you know who it is from ? «
"No, I do not; I can not read. But my grandmother thinks it might be from young Mr. Giacinto, your mistresses' nephew . «
Yes, Efix felt that; sure it was; nevertheless he scratched his cheek thoughtfully, head bowed, hoping and afraid he was wrong.
The young fellow had sat down tired on the boulder in front of the hut, slowly untied his spiked shoes and asked if there was nothing to eat.
"I ran like a young deer, I was afraid of the evil spirits ..."
Efix raised his weather-tanned, hard face and stared at the fellow with light blue, deep-set eyes surrounded by many wrinkles, and an almost childlike fear spoke from those brightly flashing eyes.
"Have they told you if I tomorrow morning or noc should return night hours today "
“I'm telling you tomorrow morning. And in the meantime, while you're in the village, I'm supposed to check on the estate here . «
The servant was used to obeying his mistresses and asked no further questions. He took an onion from the string, a piece of bread from the bag, and while the young fellow was eating his meager meal, half laughing, half crying from the pungent smell of the onion, they continued to chat. The most important personalities in the village went through their conversation: first came the pastor, then the pastor's sister, then Milese, who had married a daughter of the latter and had become the richest merchant in the village from an orange and pottery dealer. It was followed by Don Predu, the bailiff and cousin of Efix's mistresses. Don Predu was wealthy too, but not quite as rich as Milese. And finally came the usurer Kallina, also a rich, fabulously rich woman.
“Thieves tried to break into her the other day. In vain - she is safe! And the next morning she giggled in her courtyard and said: 'Let them break in, they'll be nothing but ashes and a few old nailsthink I am poor - poor as a church mouse. 'But my grandmother thinks that Aunt Kallina has a bag of gold hidden in the wall. "
But Efix didn't really care much about this gossip. With one hand under his armpit and the other under his cheek, he lay on his straw mattress and heard his heart beating, and the rustling of the reeds on the hillside sounded like the sigh of an evil spirit in his ear.
That yellow letter! Yellow, a bad color. Who knows what else would happen to his mistresses? It had been going on for twenty years: if an event really interrupted the monotonous life in the Pintor house, it was inevitably a misfortune.
The young fellow had also lay down, but was not in the mood to sleep yet.
“Father Efix, today my grandmother told you again that your mistresses were once as rich as Don Predu. Is it true or is it not true ? «
"Yes, it's true," sighed the servant. “But now is not the time to stir up those old stories. You prefer to sleep ! «
The young fellow yawned.
“But my grandmother thinks that since the death of Mrs. Maria, your old mistress, a curse has rested on your house. Is it true or is it not true ? «
"You should sleep, now is not the time ..."
“Let me talk! And why did Miss Lia, your little mistress, flee? My grandmother thinks you know . You had Miss Liato help her escape, they would have taken her to the bridge, where she would have hidden until a wagon passed with which she drove to the sea. There - that is where she would have embarked. And Don Zame, her father and her master, sought and sought her until he died a terrible death. There - by the bridge, isn't it? Who do you think murdered him? My grandmother thinks you know . «
“Your grandmother is an old witch. Please let the dead rest, you two ! " Cried Efix; but his voice was hoarse, and the young fellow laughed boldly.
“Don't worry, that could hurt you, Father Efix. My grandmother says the Nöck killed Don Zame. Is it true or is it not true ? «
E fix did not answer. He closed his eyes and covered his ear, but the boy's voice boomed muffled through the darkness and it seemed to him that the past was speaking out of her.
Like the rays of the moon, they steal one after the other through the cracks and all crowd around him: Mrs. Maria Christina, beautiful and gentle as a saint; Don Zame, crab red and wild as the devil; the four daughters, whose pale faces have a cheerful glimmer like that of their mother, and in whose eyes a gloomy passion flames as in those of their father; the servants and the maidservants, the relatives and the friends, all of them who go in and out of the rich house, with the descendants of the old castle lords from the area. But then all of a sudden misfortune falls on them and they all run awayapart like clouds in the sky when the foehn storm whistles between them.
Mrs. Christina is now dead; the pale faces of the daughters lose more and more of their cheerfulness, and the gloomy glow in their eyes grows. It grows in proportion as Don Zame, after the death of his wife, more and more assumes the imperious nature of his ancestors and keeps the four girls prisoner in the house like maids, waiting for suitors who are worthy of them. And like maids they have to work, bake bread, spin flax, sew and cook, and keep their things in order; Above all, however, they must never look up to a man or think of someone who is not meant to be their bridegroom. But the years go by and no suitor appears. And the older his daughters get, the more relentlessly Don Zame sees that they live strictly in the spirit of their fathers. Woe to him if he sees them standing at the window and looking down the little alley behind the house, or if they go away without his permission! Then he beats her, heaped abuse on her and threatened the young fellows with death who walk through the alley twice in a row .
He hangs around the village all day or sits on the stone bench in front of the grocer's shop, which belongs to the pastor's sister. And when people see him sitting there they give a wide berth, so much do they fear his evil tongue. He studied Handel with the whole world and is neidis the other that he j ch on the have- ach M al when he enters a rich estate, says gleefully: "The gentlemen lawyers are you alreadystill bring it. ”But instead , the trials finally drive him away and one day a grave misfortune hits him, as if to punish his arrogance and his prejudices. Miss Lia, the third eldest of his daughters, disappears from her father's house one night and no one hears anything from her for a long time. A gloomy shadow weighs on the house; such a disgrace has never occurred in the village; a respectable and chaste girl like Miss Lia has never simply run away from home. Don Zame seems to be losing his mind; He wanders restlessly through the whole country, desperately searching the surroundings and the coast for his child; but no one can give him news of Lia. Finally she writes to her sisters, informing them that she is in good hands and happy to have shed her bonds. But the sisters do not forgive her, do not appreciate an answer. Don Zame is now even stricter than before. He sells the rest of his possessions, maltreats the servant, harasses all people with his contentiousness and still travels the country in the hope of catching his daughter again and dragging her home. And then one morning you find him dead on the country road, on the bridge behind the village. Apparently he died of a heart attack, because there is no trace of an act of violence to be seen on him, only a small green spot on the neck, under the neck.
In the village it is said first of all that Don Zame, as so often, sought a quarrel with someone else and was killed with a club; but with time falls silentthis rumor gives way to the certainty that he is broken-heartedly different because of his daughter's escape.