Note: Translator Pauline Bancroft Flach died in 1966, less than 70 years ago. Therefore, this work is protected by copyright, restricting your legal rights to reproduce it. However, you are welcome to view it on screen, as you do now. Read more about copyright.
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THE SIROCCO
133
single socialist in Diamante,” she said. “In
Diamante no one is thinking of revolt.” Donna
Micaela asked her if she did not know what it meant
when the old distaff spinners sat in their dark
corners, and told of the great brigands and of the
famous Palermo fisherman, Giuseppe Alesi, whom
they called the Masaniello of Sicily.
If the socialists could once get the revolt started,
Diamante would also join in. All Diamante knew
already that something dreadful was impending.
They had seen the ghost of the big, black monk on
the balcony of the Palazzo Geraci; they heard the
owls scream through the night, and some declared
that the cocks crowed at sunset, and were silent at
daybreak.
One day in November Diamante was suddenly
filled with terrible people. They were men with
the faces of wild beasts, with bushy beards, and with
big hands set on enormously long arms. Several of
them wore wide, fluttering linen garments, and the
people thought that they recognized in them famous
bandits and newly freed galley-slaves.
Giannita related that all these wild people lived
in the mountain wastes inland and had crossed
Simeto and come to Diamante, because a rumor had
gone about that revolt had already broken out. But
when they had found everything quiet, and the
barracks full of soldiers, they had gone away.
• Donna Micaela thought incessantly of those people,
and expected them to be her murderers. She saw
before her their fluttering linen garments and their
brute faces. She knew that they were lurking
in their mountain holes, and waiting for the day
when they should hear shots and the noise of zLn
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