THE NINTH MAN
warmly received him. Thirty days passed, he will depart and take no other toll of blood than this: Each ninth man shall designate secretly whom he wishes put to death in the public place. Thus shall San Moglio judge San Moglio.' "
There was silence. The simple and noble of the town stood as though death had struck them all. The heralds cried again—and again cried into the silence of our amazement. Then again, and still we moved not, we spoke not, but a sigh swept us like wind in the olives. And there was no sound but the heralds accompanied by men-at-arms making their way out to the four quarters of San Moglio.
Then suddenly a gray-haired hag, who to see better had climbed the wrought-iron fountain near the loggia, raised her lean arms above her head and laughed and laughed and still laughed. Revenge was in her laugh, and relief, and she waved her clenched fists in air and laughed her hideous relief and her hideous revenge, and then a very pandemonium of joy broke from that silent crowd.
Strangers embraced. The spell of fear
13
