He blamed
himself for arresting that young idiot. It threatened to bring him into
undesired prominence. Hitherto, by reason of his sheer insignificance,
he had escaped the great Catholic deputy's eye. As Magistrate of
Nepenthe, who cared what political or religious views he professed or
in what manner he administered the law? All this was now changed. He
was in the limelight. It might end--who knows where? He had other
enemies on the island beside the clericals; the arrival of Don Giustino
might lead to a general revision of his judicial labours. To-morrow
perhaps he would have to confront the monster. Don Giustino! He knew
him by reputation. A Camorrista of the blackest dye. He took no
chances. He never threatened; he performed. Everybody knew that. Signor
Malipizzo did not like the prospect of losing his lucrative job. Still
less did he fancy the notion of receiving a charge of buck-shot in his
liver, one evening from behind a wall. That was Don Giustino's cheerful
way with people who annoyed him.
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