This was how he always greeted ■ he appearance of those lights, seen here from afar.

For the people who lived down there, oppressed and crowded together, there were two authentic madmen: himself and Nazzaro. Fine, and now they would team up to increase the town's fun! Free the little birds and set fire to the straw! He liked this exclamation of Nazzaro's and repeated it several times with increasing satisfaction before arriving at the town.

"Set fire to the straw!"

At that hour the little birds cooped in the five rooms on the ground floor were all sleeping. That would be the last night they would spend there. Tomorrow, away! Free. A great flight! They would scatter throughout the sky. They would return to the fields, free and happy. Yes, he had really been cruel. Nazzaro was right. A mortal sin! It would be better to eat dry bread and nothing else.

He tied the donkey in the small stable and, with an oil lamp in his hand, went up to wait for Nazzaro, who was supposed to be counting, as he had told him, up to one hundred stars. What a madman! Who knows why? But perhaps it was a devotional practice-After waiting and waiting, Simone Lampo began to feel sleepy. One hundred stars? More than three hours must have passed. He had had enough time to count one half the stars of the entire firmament... Enough! Enough of this! Perhaps he had told him he would come as a joke. It was useless to wait for him any longer. And he was about to throw himself down on his bed, dressed though he was, when he heard a loud knocking at the front door.

Lo and behold, it was Nazzaro, panting and extremely cheerful and fidgety.

"Did you come running?"

"Yes. It's done!"

"What've you done?"

"Everything. We'll talk about it tomorrow, Don Simo'! I'm dead tired."

He plunked himself down on a chair and began rubbing his legs with both hands, while his eyes, like those of a wild animal, shone with a glimmer of strange laughter. A trace of this laughter formed on his lips, which emerged from his long thick beard.

"The birds?" he asked.

"They're downstairs sleeping."

"Good. Aren't you sleepy?"

"Yes. I waited such a long time for you..."

"I couldn't come any sooner. Go to bed. I'm sleepy too. I'll just sleep here in this chair. I'm fine. Don't trouble yourself! Remember, you're still in mortal sin! Tomorrow we'll take care of atoning for it!

Simone Lampo, blissfully leaning on his elbow, gazed at him from his bed. How he liked that crazy vagabond! He no longer felt sleepy, but wanted to continue the conversation.

"Tell me, Nazzaro, why do you count the stars?"

"Because I like counting them. Go to sleep!"

"Wait. Tell me, are you happy?"

"About what?" asked Nazzaro, raising his head, which he had already nestled between his arms resting on the coffee table.

"About everything," answered Simone Lampo. "About living like this..."

"Happy? We're all suffering, Don Simo'! But don't worry about it. It'll pass.