Not once did
she look in my direction, and yet I guessed that she was speaking of
me: for the words "ostagiu," "Inglese," and the name "Giuseppe" or
"Griuse"--of the man I had shot--had recurred over and over in their
jabber, and recurred when she ceased and it broke forth again.
It had lasted maybe for half an hour when at a signal from
Marc'antonio (whom I took to be the Princess's lieutenant or
spokesman in these matters, and to whom she turned oftener than to
any of the others, except perhaps Stephanu) two or three picked up
their muskets, looked to their priming, and walked off into the
darkness. By-and-by came in the sentinels they had relieved, and
these in turn were helped by Stephanu to supper from the cauldron.
I watched, half-expecting the dispute to start afresh, but the others
appeared to have taken their fill of it with their food; and soon,
each man, drawing his blanket over his head, lay back and stretched
themselves to sleep. The newcomers, having satisfied their hunger,
did likewise. Stephanu gave the great pot a stir, unhitched it from
the brandice, and bore it away, leaving the Princess and Marc'antonio
the only two wakeful ones beside the fire.
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