for ever behind the proud, bright, noble figure of the child the scarlet spectres of carnage and crime, the shadow of Saturnino Mastarna's sins.
'And I am old,' she would think; 'I may die—die soon—and what then?'
Once the child terrified both Joconda and the village. A man threw a stone at Leone and hit the dog in the eye; she flew on the man and stabbed him with the knife with which she was cleaning a gourd.
The knife only made a skin wound, and the man was appeased with wine and a little money; but the terrible fury and convulsive rage of the child scared the people of Santa Tarsilla, though they were used to dagger thrusts and long feuds.
Joconda reasoned with her, and punished her, and threatened her; but nothing that she could do could convince the little rebel that she had been wrong.
'Leone bites those who hurt me,' was all that she would say.
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