The day was fine, it could be six in the morning: he had borrowed an old gun-shot, he fired a few larks, one of them, wounded, fell down on the highway; manufacturer, the prosecutor, saw in the distance a car coming from Parma and headed for the border of Casal Maggiore. He had just reloaded his gun when the car approached the dilapidated fort small step, he recognized the little Marietta, she was joined by the great lout Giletti, and this old woman she pretended to be his mother.

Giletti imagined that Fabrice had placed well in the middle of the road, and a gun in hand, to insult and maybe even take away the little Marietta. In human heart he leaped from the car he was in his left hand a large rusty gun fort, and held the line even a sword in its sheath, which he used when the needs of the troops forced to entrust a role Marquis.

– Ah! thief! cried he, I am glad to find you here in a league of the border, I’ll do your business, you are no longer protected here by thy purple stockings.

Fabrice was the small mines and no attention Marietta little jealous of the shouts of Giletti, when suddenly he saw three feet from the tip of her breast rusty pistol, he had time to give a blow this gun, using his rifle as a club: the gun went off, but not hurt anyone.

– So stop, f. .., shouted at vetturino Giletti.