went forward alone toward Mateo to tell him what had happened, greeting him like an old acquaintance. But the brief interval which separated him from Mateo seemed to him of terribly long duration.
"Hullo! Ah! my old comrade," he called out. "How are you, old fellow? I am your cousin Gamba."
Mateo did not say a word, but stood still; and while the other was speaking, he softly raised the muzzle of his rifle in such a manner that by the time the adjutant came up to him it was pointing skyward.
"Good day, brother,"[1] said the adjutant, holding out his hand. "It is a very long time since I saw you."
"Good day, brother."
"I just called in when passing to say 'good day' to you and cousin Pepa. We have done a long tramp to-day; but we must not complain of fatigue, for we have taken a fine catch. We have got hold of Gianetto Sanpiero."
"Thank Heaven!" exclaimed Giuseppa. "He stole one of our milch goats last week."
Gamba rejoiced at these words.
"Poor devil!" said Mateo, "he was hungry."
"The fellow fought like a lion," continued
- ↑ The ordinary greeting of Corsicans.
