The old woman gave a shriek; “Mozzoni!”
“Accursed woman,” roared the robber, on finding himself recognized, “you shall die!”
He hurled himself, with his knife raised, against the old woman, and she fainted away.
The assassin dealt the blow.
But Ferruccio, with an exceedingly rapid movement, and uttering a cry of desperation, had rushed to his grandmother, and covered her body with his own. The assassin fled, stumbling against the table and overturning the light, which was extinguished.
The boy slipped slowly from above his grandmother, fell on his knees, and remained in that attitude, with his arms around her body and his head upon her breast.
Several moments passed. It was very dark. The song of the peasants gradually died away. The old woman recovered her senses.
“Ferruccio!” she cried, with chattering teeth, in a voice that was barely intelligible.
“Grandmother!” replied the lad.
The old woman made an effort to speak; but terror had paralyzed her tongue. She remained silent for a while, quivering violently.
At last she succeeded in asking: “They are not here now?”
“No.”
“They did not kill me,” murmured the old woman in a stifled voice.
“No; you are safe,” said Ferruccio, in a weak voice. “You are safe, dear grandmother. They carried off the money. But father had taken nearly all of it with him.”
