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68
the miracles of antichrist.
obliged to admit that he was stately. When he
laid the baton aside for a while, took the advocate’s
arm and walked back and forth with him on the
smooth stones between the Roman portal and
pa-lazzo Geraci, it was clearly evident that he could
well vie with the handsome Favara.
Donna Elisa had been sitting on the stone bench
under the cathedral, together with the Syndic’s
wife. And Signora Voltaro had said quite suddenly,
after having watched Don Ferrante a while : " Donna
Elisa, your brother is still a young man. He may
marry yet, in spite of his fifty years."
And she, Donna Elisa, had replied that she prayed
heaven daily for this.
But hardly had she said it when a lady, dressed
in mourning, entered the market-place. A blacker
object one had never seen. Not only were her dress
and hat and gloves black, but her veil was so thick
that it was difficult to believe that there was a white
face behind it.
Santissima Dio, it was as if she had hung over
herself a pall. And she had walked slowly and bent.
One had almost felt frightened. One had almost
believed it was a ghost.
Ah, yes, the whole market-place had been so full
of merriment. The peasants, home over Sunday,
had stood about in groups in holiday attire, with red
shawls thrown around the neck. The peasant
women, goingto the cathedral, had glided by, dressed
in green skirts and yellow scarfs. A couple of
tourists had stood by the balustrade, watching Etna,
and they had been dressed in white. And all the
uniformed musicians who had been almost as fine as
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