Grouped about the upper end of this table sat four men of the peasant type,
sun-tanned, bearded, and rudely garbed in loose jerkins and cross gartered
leg cloths.
A silence had fallen upon them as I entered, and they too were now
inspecting me with a frank interest which in their simple way they made no
attempt to conceal.
I sank wearily to the stool, paying little heed to them, and in answer to
the girl's invitation to command her, I begged for meat and bread and wine.
Whilst she was preparing these, one of the men addressed me civilly; and I
answered him as civilly but absently, for I had enough of other matters to
engage my thoughts. Then another of them questioned me in a friendly tone
as to whence I came. Instinctively I concealed the truth, answering
vaguely that I was from Castel Guelfo--which was the neighbourhood in which
I had overtaken my Lord Gambara and Giuliana.
"And what do they say at Castel Guelfo of the things that are happening in
Piacenza?" asked another.
"In Piacenza?" quoth I. "Why, what is happening in Piacenza?"
Eagerly, with an ardour to show themselves intimate with the affairs of
towns, as is the way of rustics, they related to me what already I had
gathered to be the vulgar version of Fifanti's death. Each spoke in turn,
cutting in the moment another paused to breathe, and sometimes they spoke
together, each anxious to have the extent of his information revealed and
appreciated.
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