“Friend Alfio,” began Turridu after he had walked quite a bit of the way beside his companion, who remained silent, with his cap drawn over his eyes, “as true as God himself, I know that I am in the wrong, and I ought to let you kill me. But before I came here, I saw my old mother, who rose early to see me start, on the pretext that she had to tend the chickens; but her heart must have told her the truth. And as true as God himself, I am going to kill you like a dog, sooner than have the poor old woman weeping for me.”
“So much the better,” replied Master Alfio, stripping off his jacket, “strike your hardest, and so will I.”
Aimed for the groin
They were both worthy foes. Turridu received the first thrust, and was quick enough to catch it on his arm. When he paid it back, he gave good measure, and aimed for the groin.
“Ah, friend Turridu, you have really made up your mind to kill me?”
“Yes, I told you so; ever since I saw my old mother going out to feed the chickens, her face floats all the time before my eyes.”
“Then open your eyes wide,” Alfio called to him, “for I am going to square accounts with you.”
And as he stood on guard, crouching ever, so as to hold his left hand upon his wound, which was aching, and with his elbow almost touching the ground, he suddenly caught up a handful of dust and threw it into his opponents eyes.
“Oh!” howled Turridu, “I am done for!”
He sought to save himself by making desperate leaps backward; but Alfio overtook him with another blow in the stomach and a third in the throat.
“And the third is for the honor of my house that you made tree with. Now, perhaps, your mother will forget to feed her chickens.” Turridu stumbled about for a moment here and there among the prickly pears, and then fell like a log. The blood gurgled in a crimson foam out of his throat, and he had no chance even to gasp out, “Oh, mother mine!”
Read More about Mrs Bullfrog Part 6
