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Reeds in the Wind

Grazia Deledda

All day Efix, the Pintor ladies' servant, had worked on the reinforcement of the meager dam which he himself had piled up along the river in the course of his hard work, on the edge of the small farm; and now, at nightfall, he watched his day's work from above, sitting in front of his hut, under the cover of the blue- green reeds that rose up on the white slope of the pigeon hill.

Quiet and peaceful, veined here and there by a shimmering water, the property rests in the twilight at his feet - this property that Efix regards more as his property than the property of his mistresses. Thirty years of hard work made him grow tightly together with it, and the two fig hedges that surround it on either side like two gray walls slowly winding down over the slope to the river seem to him like the boundaries of the world.

The servant deliberately did not look beyond her, since the land next to it had once belonged to his mistresses. Why go back to the past ? Pointless grief. No , think about the future and hope for heaven's help.

And the sky promised a good harvest this year, made the almond trees and peach bushes in the valley floor shine in abundant bloom; and this one, fringed by two white hills, with the blue-misty mountainsfar to the west and the shimmering sea to the east, was as if embedded in green and blue veils, beneath which the river murmured its soporific way.

But the days were already quite hot - almost too hot, and Efix thought worriedly of the thunderstorms that swell the unchecked river and come out of its banks and devastate everything around it. Hope, yes - but don't trust! Above all, be on the lookout like the reed on the slope, through which even at the slightest breeze a fearful whisper and whisper goes, as if to warn of impending danger.

That's why he had worked all day and now prayed to God while he waited for the night and woven a rush mat, so that he might bless his work. What good is a small dam if the Lord does not make it imperturbable like a rock with His will?

So seven rushes through a willow rod and seven prayers to the Lord God and to Our Lady there in the little church in the distance that plunges into the deep blue of the twilight, surrounded by peaceful huts, by an ancient village that has been abandoned for centuries. At this hour, when the moon bloomed like a big rose between the bushes on the hill and the milkweed smelled intoxicating on the river below, Efix's mistresses also said the evening blessing. Miss Esther, the eldest, certainly included him, the poor sinner, in her prayer; and that was enough to make him happy and reward for all his efforts.

Then a step in the distance suddenly made him look up. He thought he recognized him; it was a quick, light-hearted step, as if an angel were hurrying through the country to proclaim happy and sad tales. The will of the Lord be done forever; it is he who sends good and bad news! But his heart began to pound loudly, and the rushes, which glittered silver like jets of water in the moonlight, trembled in his black, cracked fingers.

Now the step could no longer be heard. Still, Efix sat motionless and waited.

The moon rose higher and higher, and the voices of the evening announced to the old man that his day's work was over: the muffled call of the cuckoo, the chirping of the young crickets, a plaintive cry of birds; the sigh of the reeds and the ever lighter song of the river; a mysterious whispering and breathing that seemed to come from within the earth itself. Yes, man's daily work was now over; instead the gnomes, the elves and the restless souls of the dead awoke to ghostly life. The ghosts of the old knights came down from the castle ruins above the village of Galte to the left in the valley and hunted for boars and foxes on the banks of the river; their weapons flashed through the low alder brush, and the hoarse barking of dogs in the distance indicated that they were trotting by.

Especially on bright moonlit nights, this ghost haunt drives its mysterious nature on the hills and in the valleys, and then man should not disturb him through his presence, since the spirits also him left undisturbed during the day. Yes, then it's time to withdraw and fall asleep under the wing of the Guardian Angels.

Feix crossed himself and stood up. But he was still expecting someone . Nevertheless, he pushed forward the board that served as the door and leaned against it a large cross made of reed, which was supposed to prevent the evil spirits and the temptations of the devil from entering the hut.

The moonlight fell through the cracks into the narrow, low room, which of course seemed big enough for him, which was small and thin like a young lad. Of the cone-shaped reed and rush roof because s covered s rohgemauerten walls and had in the middle a hole for removal of smoke, consecrated palm and olive branches, a colorful wax floor, a sickle hanging from cords strung onions and dried herbs tufts down to Protection against the werewolf and a bag of barley to protect against the panas , the erring souls of women who died in childbed . With every breeze, all these things moved, and the cobwebs glittered in the moonlight. The clay jug with the large handles lay on the floor, and next to it lay the overturned kettle.

Efix shook up the straw sack but did not lie down. Again and again he thought he heard the light, swinging step . Surely someone was approaching there , and suddenly the dogs started beating the neighboring estates, and the whole country, which only recently fell asleep under the murmur of the nocturnal voicesseemed to be, echoed with muffled noises, woke up again, as it were.

Efix opened the door again. A dark figure climbed the hillside, on which the mini beans billowed silvery in the moonlight, and the servant, to whom even the human figures seemed uneasy at night, crossed again. Suddenly a well-known voice called him. It was the lively but slightly gasping voice of a young fellow who lived next to the Pintor ladies' house.

"Godfather Efix, Godfather Efix!"

'What's up, Zuannantò? Are my ladies well ? «

"I think so. They just tell you that you want to return to the village early tomorrow - they have to speak to you. It is probably because of a yellow letter that I saw in Fraulein Noemi's hand. Fraulein Noemi read it softly, and Fraulein Ruth, who looked like a nun in her white headscarf, was sweeping the yard, but leaned idly on the broomstick and listened . «

"A letter? Don't you know who it is from ? «

"No, I do not; I can not read. But my grandmother thinks it might be from young Mr. Giacinto, your mistresses' nephew . «

Yes, Efix felt that; sure it was; nevertheless he scratched his cheek thoughtfully, head bowed, hoping and afraid he was wrong.

The young fellow had sat down tired on the boulder in front of the hut, slowly untied his spiked shoes and asked if there was nothing to eat.

"I ran like a young deer, I was afraid of the evil spirits ..."

Efix raised his weather-tanned, hard face and stared at the fellow with light blue, deep-set eyes surrounded by many wrinkles, and an almost childlike fear spoke from those brightly flashing eyes.

"Have they told you if I tomorrow morning or noc should return night hours today "

“I'm telling you tomorrow morning. And in the meantime, while you're in the village, I'm supposed to check on the estate here . «

The servant was used to obeying his mistresses and asked no further questions. He took an onion from the string, a piece of bread from the bag, and while the young fellow was eating his meager meal, half laughing, half crying from the pungent smell of the onion, they continued to chat. The most important personalities in the village went through their conversation: first came the pastor, then the pastor's sister, then Milese, who had married a daughter of the latter and had become the richest merchant in the village from an orange and pottery dealer. It was followed by Don Predu, the bailiff and cousin of Efix's mistresses. Don Predu was wealthy too, but not quite as rich as Milese. And finally came the usurer Kallina, also a rich, fabulously rich woman.

“Thieves tried to break into her the other day. In vain - she is safe! And the next morning she giggled in her courtyard and said: 'Let them break in, they'll be nothing but ashes and a few old nailsthink I am poor - poor as a church mouse. 'But my grandmother thinks that Aunt Kallina has a bag of gold hidden in the wall. "

But Efix didn't really care much about this gossip. With one hand under his armpit and the other under his cheek, he lay on his straw mattress and heard his heart beating, and the rustling of the reeds on the hillside sounded like the sigh of an evil spirit in his ear.

That yellow letter! Yellow, a bad color. Who knows what else would happen to his mistresses? It had been going on for twenty years: if an event really interrupted the monotonous life in the Pintor house, it was inevitably a misfortune.

The young fellow had also lay down, but was not in the mood to sleep yet.

“Father Efix, today my grandmother told you again that your mistresses were once as rich as Don Predu. Is it true or is it not true ? «

"Yes, it's true," sighed the servant. “But now is not the time to stir up those old stories. You prefer to sleep ! «

The young fellow yawned.

“But my grandmother thinks that since the death of Mrs. Maria, your old mistress, a curse has rested on your house. Is it true or is it not true ? «

"You should sleep, now is not the time ..."

“Let me talk! And why did Miss Lia, your little mistress, flee? My grandmother thinks you know . You had Miss Liato help her escape, they would have taken her to the bridge, where she would have hidden until a wagon passed with which she drove to the sea. There - that is where she would have embarked. And Don Zame, her father and her master, sought and sought her until he died a terrible death. There - by the bridge, isn't it? Who do you think murdered him? My grandmother thinks you know . «

“Your grandmother is an old witch. Please let the dead rest, you two ! " Cried Efix; but his voice was hoarse, and the young fellow laughed boldly.

“Don't worry, that could hurt you, Father Efix. My grandmother says the Nöck killed Don Zame. Is it true or is it not true ? «

E fix did not answer. He closed his eyes and covered his ear, but the boy's voice boomed muffled through the darkness and it seemed to him that the past was speaking out of her.

Like the rays of the moon, they steal one after the other through the cracks and all crowd around him: Mrs. Maria Christina, beautiful and gentle as a saint; Don Zame, crab red and wild as the devil; the four daughters, whose pale faces have a cheerful glimmer like that of their mother, and in whose eyes a gloomy passion flames as in those of their father; the servants and the maidservants, the relatives and the friends, all of them who go in and out of the rich house, with the descendants of the old castle lords from the area. But then all of a sudden misfortune falls on them and they all run awayapart like clouds in the sky when the foehn storm whistles between them.

Mrs. Christina is now dead; the pale faces of the daughters lose more and more of their cheerfulness, and the gloomy glow in their eyes grows. It grows in proportion as Don Zame, after the death of his wife, more and more assumes the imperious nature of his ancestors and keeps the four girls prisoner in the house like maids, waiting for suitors who are worthy of them. And like maids they have to work, bake bread, spin flax, sew and cook, and keep their things in order; Above all, however, they must never look up to a man or think of someone who is not meant to be their bridegroom. But the years go by and no suitor appears. And the older his daughters get, the more relentlessly Don Zame sees that they live strictly in the spirit of their fathers. Woe to him if he sees them standing at the window and looking down the little alley behind the house, or if they go away without his permission! Then he beats her, heaped abuse on her and threatened the young fellows with death who walk through the alley twice in a row .

He hangs around the village all day or sits on the stone bench in front of the grocer's shop, which belongs to the pastor's sister. And when people see him sitting there they give a wide berth, so much do they fear his evil tongue. He studied Handel with the whole world and is neidis the other that he j ch on the have- ach M al when he enters a rich estate, says gleefully: "The gentlemen lawyers are you alreadystill bring it. ”But instead , the trials finally drive him away and one day a grave misfortune hits him, as if to punish his arrogance and his prejudices. Miss Lia, the third eldest of his daughters, disappears from her father's house one night and no one hears anything from her for a long time. A gloomy shadow weighs on the house; such a disgrace has never occurred in the village; a respectable and chaste girl like Miss Lia has never simply run away from home. Don Zame seems to be losing his mind; He wanders restlessly through the whole country, desperately searching the surroundings and the coast for his child; but no one can give him news of Lia. Finally she writes to her sisters, informing them that she is in good hands and happy to have shed her bonds. But the sisters do not forgive her, do not appreciate an answer. Don Zame is now even stricter than before. He sells the rest of his possessions, maltreats the servant, harasses all people with his contentiousness and still travels the country in the hope of catching his daughter again and dragging her home. And then one morning you find him dead on the country road, on the bridge behind the village. Apparently he died of a heart attack, because there is no trace of an act of violence to be seen on him, only a small green spot on the neck, under the neck.

In the village it is said first of all that Don Zame, as so often, sought a quarrel with someone else and was killed with a club; but with time falls silentthis rumor gives way to the certainty that he is broken-heartedly different because of his daughter's escape.

And while the sisters, dishonored by Lia's flight, cannot find a husband, one day she informs them of her marriage in a letter. Her husband is a cattle dealer whom she met by chance on her escape. They lived in Civitavecchia, in pretty good circumstances, and were about to have a child.

The sisters do not forgive her for this new aberration, this marriage with an upstart whom she has met under such sad circumstances, and again they do not honor her with an answer.

Soon after, Lia announced the birth of Giacinto. You send the nephew a baptism present, but do not write a word to the mother.

And so the years go by. Giacinto grows up, writes to his aunts every Easter and Christmas, and the aunts send him a present. Sometimes he writes that he is studying, sometimes that he wants to go to sea; and then he said that he had found a job; then he reports to them his father's death and then his mother's; and finally he expresses the wish to visit them and stay with them at all times if he finds work in the village. He did not like his small post at the customs office; he was humiliating and troublesome, spoiled his youth. And he longs for a hard work life, yes - but a simple life in the open air. Everyone advised him to go after theTo go to his mother's island and try his luck there with honest work.

The aunts start thinking back and forth; and the longer they think, the less they are able to come to an agreement.

"Does he want to work?" Says Fraulein Ruth, the most prudent one. "Where the village doesn't even feed the natives?"

Miss Esther, on the other hand, favors the nephew's plans, while Miss Noemi, the youngest, only smiles coldly and mockingly.

“Perhaps he's thinking of playing fine gentleman here. Let him come ! Then he can go to the river and fish fish ... "

“But Noemi, dear sister, he writes himself that he would like to work. And he will certainly work too, start a little business like his father. "

“He should have started a little earlier. And our ancestors never traded cattle. "

“Other times, dear Noemi, by the way, the dealers are the real masters these days. Take a look at the Milese! He says: I am now the master of Galte! "

Noemi laughs, there is a malicious flash in her dark eyes, and Esther's laughter discourages Esther even more than any of the other sister's objections.

It's the same song every day. Giacinto's name echoes throughout the house; even when the sisters are silent, he lingers among them, as he has since the hour of his birth, and his strange shape fills the crumbling house with young life.

Efix did not remember ever taking part directly in the conversations of his mistresses. He did not dare to do it, especially because they did not consult him, but also because he did not want to burden his conscience; but he wished the young gentleman would come.

He loved him, had always loved him, almost like a son.

After Don Zame's death, he stayed with the three ladies to help them sort out the confused financial situation. The relatives did not care for her, rather despised and avoided her; they only knew about the household and didn't even know the small estate, the last remnant of their fathers' legacy.

I'll stay in her service for another year, Efix had said to himself, sympathetic to her helplessness. And one year had turned into twenty.

The three women lived on the produce of the estate that he worked. If the harvest was bad, Miss Esther said when the time came when she was to give him his wages - thirty silver guilders and a pair of boots - to the servant:

“In God's name, be patient a little longer; you shouldn't lose yours. "

And he tolerated himself, and his assets grew from year to year, so that Fraulein Esther promised, half jokingly and half seriously, to make him the sole heir of the property and house, although he was much older than all of them.

True , he was old and frail, but still a man, and his shadow gave the three women sufficient protection.

And now he was dreaming of a happier future for the three of them. At least dreamed that Noemi would find a husband. What if the yellow letter contained good news? What if he announced an inheritance? Or what if it were a marriage proposal for Miss Noemi? The Pintor ladies still had rich relatives in Sassari and Nuoro. Why shouldn't one of them marry Noemi? Even Don Predu could have written the yellow letter.

And with a m M al things change in the tired mind of the servant of the face; everything is now bathed in a bright, soft light; his noble mistresses grow young again; their dying generation is strengthened to new life, and everything around sprouts and blossoms like the valley in spring.

And he, the poor servant, has no choice but to retire to his old days on the little estate, spread out his straw sack and sleep in the master, while in the silence of the night the reeds lull the land into slumber with a monotonous rustle .