Hunter College High School - Argus Yearbook (New York, NY)

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The dapper ofiicer grinned sneeringly and said. Sociable lot, aren't you! If you weren't so hard to get to, up here in the mountains, you might have learned manners long ago. Again the townsman regarded him stonily and raised his arm to the next house. Reddening, the oflicer strode to the doorway and demanded of Margherita, May I see your father, my pretty? A tall, elderly man pushed his way front, gently pushed the girl inside, and said I am her fatherf, I command you in the name of the Emperor to surrender the Duke of F orestaf' For barely a second the older man hesitated. The Duke of F oresta? You are surely mistaken. With my daughter and old Giovanni I live alone. Stop that. We know he is here. Will you give him up to me without a struggle, or must we kill you? Bring him outf' From within the house a second elderly man appeared. Though he wore the brown breeches of the peasant, with a gay shirt of linen and a sash of fringed silk, and a knitted cap with bright wool tassel, he seemed higher in station than the average villager. When Antonio, Margherita's father, tried to force him back, he shook his head and said to the oflicer: I am the Duke of F orestaf' Charmed sneered the oflicer. My Duke wears peasant garb now. Ah, the fortunes of war!-But we must not tarry-Bind him men. To the downcast Antonio the Duke said as the soldiers bound him and marched away. Grieve not, my friend. You are not to blame. I thank you for the help you gave. In silent consternation the crowd of villagers watched their beloved ruler disappear. Then one turned sharply to Margherita and pointing cried Traitress! Margherita drew back into the doorway. Her father pushed the door shut, and with blazing eyes faced the crowd. He held up his hand for silenceg thelpeople, used to obeying him, obeyed him now. In his excitment, Antonio slipped into the old mountain dialect: Ye would accuse her? What know ye of her? Know ye surely that she was betrayed-? Ye shall not take her. In the crowd there rose cries of Kill her, traitressf' 'Try her! Try her! Aye, she shall be tried! Gray and old, Antonio agreed. Go to your homes. She shall be tried-Tomorrow-by the Elders. They met, the council of the Elders, to try Margherita. To try her in the presence of Pietro, who had seen ninety harvests, and Luigi, along with his son who had lost an arm fighting the Austrians, and old Andrea, whose wife and child had been killed by Austrian bombs. Pale and drawn of face, Margherita sat with her father, while the council droned on and on, on to a foregone conclusion. When the delibera- tions had wearied all, old Pietro stood up and said in his brittle, cackling voice: Have you anything to say, little one? Page Twenty-five