Shell Stories - English

He had left' neither brother nor near relative, so there was no one to take up the vendetta on his behalf. His old mother was the only person whq never forgot. Across the strait all day long she could see .a white speck on the coast; It was the little Sardinian village of Longosardo, where Corsican bandits took refuge when hard pressed by the police. They were almost the only inhabitants of the hamlet, facing the coast of their own country, and they waited there till it was safeto come back and return tothe 'm~quis'. It was in this village, she knew, that Nicolas Ravolati had taken refuge. Entirely alone she sat all day long at her window and gazed at this village, dreaming ofher vengeance. How was she to carry it out? She was a weak woman, with not much longer to live, but she had promised it, she'h~d sworn it on the body. She could not forget or put it off. What was she to do? Now she could not sleep at night; she had no rest, no peace ofmind; obstinately determined to find a way. The dog dozed at her feet and at intervals raised her head and howled into space. Since her master's death, she often howled in this way,, as ifcalling him; she would not be comforted, as if her animal soul also carried an indelible memory. Orte night, as Frisky began to howl, the mother had a sudden inspiration, the fierce vindictive inspiration of a savage. She pondered over it all night, and, 'getting up at daybreak, she went to the church. There she prayed, bowed down on the stone floor, humbling herself before God, seeking help and support, praying that her poor worn-out body might have the strength to avenge her son. Then she went home. She had in her back yard an old stove-in barrel, which collected the rain-water from the 30

gutters ;,she turned it upside down, emptied it and fixed it on t4e ground with stakes and stones; next she chained Frisky in this kennel and went into the house. That day she spent hours walking up and down rest:. lessly in her room, her gaze always fixed on the coast of Sardinia, the refuge ofthe assassin. The dog howled all day and all night. In the mori1ing the old woman took her a bowl of water, but notn\ing else-no bread or soup. 1 , Another day passed. Frisky slept, weak with hunger. Next day her eyes were shining, her coat bristling and she was tugging furiously at the chain. StilLthe old woman gave her no food. The animal, by now maddened with hunger, kept up her hoarse barking, Another night passed. At dawn the widow Saverini went to a neighbour's house and begged two trusses ofstraw. She took some of her late husband's clothes and stuffed them with the straw to resemble a ~uman body. Having fixed a stake in the ground in front of Frisky's kennel, she fastened the dummy to it, so that it looked like a man standing there, and made a head outofa roll ofold linen. The dog looked at the straw in surprise, and stopped howling, in spite ofher hunger. Next the old woman went to the pork-butcher's and bought a long piece of black blood-sausage. Returning home, she lit a wood fire in the yard near the•kennel an

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