"Come, Brandolaccio, what can I leave with you?"
The bandit scratched his head and cast a sidelong glance at Orso's gun.
"By my faith, if I dared--but no! you're too fond of it."
"What would you like?"
"Nothing! 'Tisn't anything at all. It's knowing how to use it as well. I
keep thinking of that devil of a double-shot of yours--and with only one
hand, too! Oh! that never could happen twice over!"
"Is it the gun you fancy? I bought it for you. But see you don't use it
more than you are obliged."
"Oh, I won't promise to make as good use of it as you. But make your
mind easy. When any other man has it, you may be certain it's all over
with Brando Savelli."
"And you, Castriconi--what am I to give you?"
"Since you really insist on giving me some tangible keepsake, I'll
simply ask you to send me the smallest Horace you can get. It will amuse
me, and prevent me from forgetting all my Latin. There's a little woman
who sells cigars on the jetty at Bastia. If you give it to her, she'll
see I get it."
"You shall have an Elzevir, my erudite friend. There just happens to
be one among some books I was going to take away with me.
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