Only shortly after, in fact, the student was taken to the infirmary, where, at the end of March, he died. The man with the consumptive lover kept an anxious eye on the sick man’s progress and, when the student died, he wept like a child for a whole day. He wept not only for the poor dead man, but also for his own sick sweetheart. The student’s death cast a strange melancholy over the King of Spades. He began to philosophize on life and death, and he embarked on long discussions with the Delegate. In Costantino’s company, Burrai lost himself in nostalgic memories of his distant homeland.

‘I went through your village, or near it, once,’ he said. ‘I don’t know exactly. There was a wood of cork oaks, rock-roses and wild strawberry trees. The trees looked as if blood had rained on them. The scent was so strong it was like tobacco. There’s a cross on top of a rock. You can see the sea in the distance.’

‘That’s Cherbomine Wood. I know it so well. Once on a rock, a huntsman saw a stag with a golden horn. He shot and killed it. As it lay dying, the stag gave a human cry and said, “My penance is over.” They say in its body was the soul of a man who had committed a serious crime. They put the cross there.’

‘And the horn, my friend?’

‘They say when the huntsman drew close, he saw that the horn was an ordinary antler.’

‘Pff! How stupid you peasants are! Oh, look, spring is on the way,’ the King of Spades said, glancing up at the sky. ‘Spring excites me. I used to hunt in the marshy lagoons near Cagliari. Oh, those lagoons. They’re like scattered fragments of a looking-glass. Purple irises grow around them. Flamingos fly overhead in long skeins, so beautiful you can’t bear to watch them. I closed my eye. Bang! Down came a flamingo. The others flew on by, silently, in a line. I hurled myself into the middle of the pond to pick up the flamingo. It was as fast and slippery as a fish. I was eighteen years old.’

‘What did you do with the flamingo?’

‘I stuffed it. They have long legs, soft as velvet. Have you seen those marshes? Oh, yes, of course, you were in the mines near Cagliari. I shall go back there to die in peace.’

‘You’re sad today.’

‘Why not, dear friend? It’s spring. It’s sad to spend Easter in prison. This year I’m going to do the Easter observances.’

‘I’ve already done them.’

‘Have you now?’

The two prisoners fell silent, lost in reminiscences.