"Yes," Franz remarked. "You mean for the three when it is quite indispensable."

"What is it?" asked Albert, coming in. "No barouche?"

The next morning Franz was the first to wake up and, as soon as he was awake, rang. The tinkling of the bell could still be heard when Signor Pastrini in person came in.

"So! It is just as I thought yesterday," the innkeeper said triumphantly, without even waiting for Franz to put the question to him, "when I didn't want to promise you anything, Excellency. Your search has begun too late: there is not a single carriage to be had in Rome -- for the final three days, of course."

"Exactly, my dear friend," Franz replied. "You've got it in one."

"Well, a fine city it is, your Eternal City."

"By which I mean, Excellency," Signor Pastrini continued, wishing the visitors to retain some modicum of respect for the capital of the Christian world, "I mean that there will be no carriage from Sunday morning to Tuesday evening, but that between now and then you can find fifty if you so wish."

The two young men looked at one another in amazement.

"Ah! That's something anyway," said Albert. "Today is Thursday. Who knows what may happen between now and Sunday."

"Ten or twelve thousand travellers are what will happen," Franz replied, "aggravating the problem."

"A window, where?"

"At least we shall be able to have a window?" said Franz.

"Ah, now!" Franz said. "That's a brilliant idea, especially for putting out moccoletti; we'll dress up as vampire polichinelli or else as peasants from the Landes. We'll be a roaring success."

"Lord love us! Overlooking the Corso."

"My friend," Morcerf said, "let's enjoy the present and not let it cloud the future."

"Damnation, my dear Albert," Franz said. "Do you know what we should do? We should go and celebrate the carnival in Venice. At least there, if we don't find a carriage, we'll find a gondola."

"No, no, no!" Albert cried. "My mind is set on seeing the carnival in Rome and here I shall see it, even if I have to use stilts."

"Ah, yes! A window!" exclaimed Signor Pastrini. "Impossible! Completely impossible! There was one remaining on the fifth floor of the Palazzo Doria, but it was rented to a Russian prince for twenty sequins a day."

"Do Your Excellencies still wish to have a carriage until Sunday?"

"Yes, dammit!" said Albert. "Do you expect us to go running round the streets of Rome on foot, like bailiff's clerks?"

"And I, dear Signor Pastrini," said Franz, "since I am not our neighbour the millionaire, I must warn you that this is my fourth visit to Rome, and consequently I know the price of a barouche on weekdays, Sundays and holidays. We shall give you twelve piastres for today, tomorrow and the day after, and you will still have a very handsome bonus."

"Come, my dear fellow, come," said Franz, "or else I'll go myself and bargain with your affettatore, who also happens to be mine. We are old friends, he has already stolen quite a bit of money from me in his time and, in the hope of stealing some more, will accept an even lower price than the one I am offering you: so you will lose the difference and it will be your own fault."

"But, Excellency!" said Signor Pastrini, trying to protest.

"I shall hasten to carry out Your Excellencies' orders," said Signor Pastrini. "But I must warn you that the carriage will cost six piastres a day."

"Completely! Now we're talking."

"When would you like the carriage?"

"In one hour it will be at the door."

"Do not put yourself to so much trouble, Excellency," said Signor Pastrini, with the smile of an Italian speculator admitting defeat. "I shall do my best and I hope that it will be to your satisfaction."

And, indeed, an hour later the carriage was waiting for the two young men: it was a simple cab which, in view of the solemnity of the occasion, had been elevated to the rank of barouche. But, despite its unassuming appearance, the two men would have been very pleased to have such a vehicle for the last three days of carnival.

"Excellency!" the guide cried, seeing Franz looking out of the window. "Should we bring the coach to the palace door?"

"In an hour."

Even though Franz was accustomed to Italian exaggeration, his first impulse was to look around; but the words were indeed addressed to him. He, Franz, was the Excellency; the hackney cab was the coach; and the palace was the Hôtel de Londres. In that single phrase was contained the whole genius of a nation that knows how to turn a compliment better than any other.

Franz consequently told the driver which route he should take: he was to go out through the Porta del Popolo, follow the outer wall, then come back into the city through the Porta San Giovanni. In this way, the Colosseum would appear before them with no prior rehearsal -- that is to say, without the Capitol, the Forum, the Arch of Septimus Severus, the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina and the Via Sacra serving as so many steps on the road, to reduce its magnificence.

"First of all to Saint Peter's, of course, then to the Colosseum," said Albert, like a true Parisian. However, there was one thing that Albert did not know, which is that you need a day to see St Peter's and a month to study it. The day was consequently spent solely in visiting St Peter's.

Suddenly the two friends noticed that the sun was starting to go down. Franz took out his watch: it was half-past four, so they immediately set off back to the hotel. At the door, Franz ordered the driver to be ready at eight. He wanted to show Albert the Colosseum by moonlight, as he had shown him St Peter's in broad daylight. When one is showing a friend round a city that one already knows, one does so with the same coquetry as when showing off a woman who has been one's mistress.

Franz and Albert went out, the coach drove up to the palace, Their Excellencies arranged themselves across the seats and the guide jumped up behind. "Where do Their Excellencies wish to be driven?"

"Excellency," Signor Pastrini said, "I am flattered by your approval, but that is not the reason that I came up to see you."

"Still less -- and I suggest, Excellency, that you would do better not to think about this any more, but to accept the inevitable. In Rome, either things can be done, or they cannot. When someone tells you that they cannot, there's an end to it."

They sat down at table. Signor Pastrini had promised his guests a splendid feast. He gave them a passable dinner, so they couldn't complain. At the end of it he came in himself. Franz at first imagined that it was to accept their compliments and he prepared to make them, but he was interrupted after the first few words.

"Was it to tell us that you have found a carriage?" asked Albert, lighting a cigar.

"I hear all Frenchmen say this," said Signor Pastrini, a trifle stung by it. "So I don't understand how they manage to travel."

"In Paris, it's much more convenient: when something can't be done, you pay double and immediately you get what you wanted."

"The point is," said Franz, interrupting his host's geographical musings, "that you did come here for some reason, so perhaps you would be good enough to tell us why?"

"Just so."

Signor Pastrini said nothing for a moment, obviously considering this reply and no doubt not finding it altogether clear.

"But, then," said Albert, unhurriedly blowing his smoke towards the ceiling and leaning backwards, balancing on the two rear legs of his chair, "it is only fools and innocents like ourselves who travel. Sensible men stay in their apartments in the Rue du Helder, and don't stray beyond the Boulevard de Gand and the Café de Paris." It goes without saying that Albert lived in the aforementioned street, took his daily walk down the said fashionable thoroughfare and dined every day in the only café where one does dine -- at least, assuming one is on good terms with the waiters.

"You intend to visit the Colosseo?"

"You mean the Colosseum?"

"Ah, that's right! Here it is: you ordered the barouche for eight o'clock?"

"Dangerous! Why?"

"Be warned, my good host, I shall not believe a word of what you are about to tell us. And, now that that is clear, speak as long as you like, I am listening. 'Once upon a time…' Off you go, then!"

"He is a bandit, beside whom Decesaris and Gasparone were mere choirboys."

"You told your coachman to leave by the Porta del Popolo, go round the walls and return through the Porta San Giovanni?"

"Because of the famous Luigi Vampa."

"I don't have that honour."

"What! You don't know about him?"

"They are the same place."

"Never."

"Or, at least, very dangerous."

"You have never heard the name?"

Signor Pastrini turned towards Franz, who seemed to him the more reasonable of the two young men. We must be fair to the good man: he had put up a considerable number of Frenchmen in his life, but there was a side to their wit that he had never understood.

"Impossible?"

"Well: this itinerary is impossible."

"As you say."

"Come, come, my dear fellow, who is this famous Luigi Vampa?" Albert asked. "He may be very famous in Rome, but I must tell you that he is quite unknown in Paris."

"Careful, Albert!" cried Franz. "Here we have a bandit at last!"

"Albert did not say that you are a liar, my dearest Monsieur Pastrini," said Franz. "He merely said that he would not believe you. But have no fear, I shall believe you, so you may speak."

"Nevertheless, Excellency, you must understand that if doubt is to be cast on my veracity…"

"Excellency," he said, very gravely, turning, as we have said, towards Franz. "If you consider me a liar, there is no sense in my telling you what I intended to tell you. But I can assure Your Excellencies that it would be in your interest."

"Dear man," said Franz, "you are more easily offended than Cassandra, even though she was a prophetess and no one listened to her: you at least can be assured of one-half of your audience. Come, sit down and tell us about this Monsieur Vampa."

"As I told you, Excellency, he is a bandit, the like of which we have not seen since the famous Mastrilla."

"And what does this bandit have to do with the order I gave my coachman to leave by the Porta del Popolo and to return through the Porta San Giovanni?"

"He has the following to do with it," Signor Pastrini replied, "that, while you may well go out by one gate, I very much doubt whether you will return by the other."

"Truly?" Albert exclaimed.

"Why?"

"Franz," said Albert, "we have here a splendid adventure ready made for us. All we have to do is fill our carriage with pistols, blunderbusses and repeating rifles. Luigi Vampa will try to seize us, and we will seize him. We'll bring him back to Rome, offer him as a token of our respect to His Holiness, who will ask what he can do to recompense us for such a great service. Then all we have to do is ask for a coach and two horses from his stables and we can see the carnival by coach. Apart from which, the people of Rome will probably be so grateful to us that we shall be crowned on the Capitol and proclaimed, like Curtius and Horatius Cocles, saviours of the fatherland."

"Because, after nightfall, no one is safe within fifty yards of the gates."

"Monsieur le Vicomte," said Signor Pastrini, still wounded to the very depth of his soul by the doubt Albert had expressed as to his veracity, "what I am saying is not for you. It is for your travelling companion, who is acquainted with Rome and knows that one does not mock when speaking of such matters."

"And where, for a start," Franz asked Albert, "would you find these pistols, these blunderbusses and these rifles which you want to cram into our carriage?"

"What!" Albert cried, his courage rebelling at the idea of being robbed without saying a word. "What! It's not usual?"

The expression on Signor Pastrini's face, while Albert was pursuing this train of thought, would be impossible to describe.

"The fact is I have no such things in my arsenal," he said, "because even my dagger was confiscated at Terracina. What about you?"

"The same was done to me at Aquapendente."

"Well, there now!" Albert said, lighting his second cigar from the stub of the first. "My dear host, do you realize how convenient this regulation is for thieves -- so much so that I suspect it was introduced in collusion with them?"

Signor Pastrini no doubt found the joke compromising, because he answered only obliquely, still addressing himself to Franz as the one reasonable person with whom he might reach a proper understanding.

"His Excellency knows that it is not usual to defend oneself when one is attacked by bandits."

"Well, by all the devils! I'd let myself be killed!" Albert exclaimed.

The innkeeper turned to Franz with a look that meant: Undoubtedly, Excellency, your companion is mad.

"No, because any resistance would be useless. What can you do against a dozen bandits leaping out of a ditch, from behind a hut or an aqueduct, all of whom have their sights trained on you at once?"

"Albert," Franz continued, "that is a magnificent reply, almost as good as old Corneille's 'Qu'il morût…' But when Horatius said that, Rome itself was at stake and the sacrifice was justified. But in our case, it is just a matter of satisfying a whim; and it would be folly to risk our lives for the sake of a whim."

Albert poured himself a glass of Lacryma Christi, which he drank in small sips, muttering unintelligibly.

"Ah! Per Baccho!" Signor Pastrini cried. "At last! Someone is talking sense."

"So, then, Signor Pastrini," Franz continued, "my friend, as you see, has calmed down; now that you have been able to judge of my peaceful temperament, tell us: who is this gentleman, Luigi Vampa? Is he a shepherd or a nobleman? Young or old? Short or tall? Describe him for us so that, if we should chance to meet him in society, like Jean Sbogar or Lara, we shall at least recognize him."

Signor Pastrini pulled out of his fob a magnificent Breguet, signed by its maker and marked with the stamp of Paris and a count's coronet. "Here it is," he said.

"Let us hear the story," said Franz, drawing up a chair and signalling to Signor Pastrini to sit down.

"Dammit!" said Albert. "I congratulate you. I have one almost the same" -- he took his watch out of his waistcoat -- "and it cost me three thousand francs."

"Let us see the watch," said Albert.

"You could not have a better informant than I, Excellency, if you want to have the full story, because I knew Luigi Vampa as a young child. One day when I myself fell into his hands while travelling from Ferentino to Alatri, he remembered our earlier acquaintance, luckily for me. He let me go, not only without making me pay a ransom, but even making me a present of a very fine watch, and telling me his life story."

"Do Your Excellencies permit?"

The hotelier sat down, after bowing respectfully to his future listeners, with the intention of letting them know that he was ready to give them any information about Luigi Vampa that they might require.

"Please!" said Albert. "You are not a preacher, my dear man, that you must speak on your feet."

"Barely, as I have just had the honour to inform you."

"A young man! I should say he is. He's barely twenty-two years old. Oh, don't worry! He's a young man who will go far!"

"Now," said Franz, interrupting Signor Pastrini just as he was about to open his mouth. "You say that you knew Luigi Vampa as a young child. This means he must still be a young man?"

"So," Franz continued, turning to the innkeeper, "the hero whose story we are about to hear is only twenty-two."

"What do you say to that, Albert?" said Franz. "It's a fine thing, is it not, to be famous already at twenty-two?"

"Yes, indeed; and at his age, Alexander, Caesar and Napoleon, who later acquired a certain reputation, had not gone as far as he."

"Thank you for the comparison," the latter said with a bow.

"Carry on, Signor Pastrini," Franz urged, smiling at his friend's sensitivity. "And what class of society does he come from?"

"Of medium height, much the same as His Excellency," Pastrini replied, indicating Albert.

"Is he short or tall?"

"While still a child, little Vampa had an unusual character. One day, at the age of seven, he came to see the curé of Palestrina and begged him to teach him to read. This was not easy, because the young herdsman could not leave his flock. But the good curé would go every day to say Mass in a poor little town that was too small to be able to afford a priest; it was too small even to have a name, just being known by that of Il Borgo. He invited Luigi to wait for him on his way at the time when he was returning, when he would give him his lesson, warning him that the lesson would be short and he would have to take full advantage of it. The boy gleefully accepted."

"He was a simple herdsman attached to the farm of the Count of San-Felice, lying between Palestrina and the Lake of Gabri. He was born in Pampinara, and entered the count's service at the age of five. His father, himself a shepherd in Anagni, had a little flock of his own and lived on the product of the wool from his sheep and the milk of his ewes, which he brought to Rome to sell."

"In three months, he could read."

"Every day, Luigi would take his flock to graze on the road between Palestrina and Il Borgo. Every day, at nine in the morning, the curé came past. The priest and the child would sit on the edge of a ditch and the little shepherd learned his lesson from the priest's breviary."

"This was not all: now he needed to learn to write. The priest had a teacher of writing in Rome make him three alphabets: one in large script, one in medium and the third in small; and he showed Luigi that by tracing the alphabet on a slate with a metal point he could learn to write."

"The same evening, when the flock had returned to the farm, little Vampa ran across to the locksmith's in Palestrina, took a large nail, heated it in the forge, hammered it, shaped it and made a kind of antique stylus."

"The curé, astonished by this intelligence and touched by his aptitude, made him a present of several notebooks, a sheaf of pens and a penknife."

"The next day he collected some slates and set to work. In three months, he could write."

"This required further study, but it was nothing compared to what he had already done. A week later, he could write with a pen as well as he could write with his stylus."

"The curé told the story to the Count of San-Felice, who wanted to see the little shepherd, made him read and write in front of him, ordered his steward to have him eat with the servants and gave him two piastres a month. With the money Luigi bought books and pencils."

"A girl of six or seven, that is to say a little younger than Vampa, was keeping the ewes in a farm next door to Palestrina. She was an orphan called Teresa, born in Valmontone."

"In fact, he applied this faculty for imitation that he possessed to everything and, like the young Giotto, he would draw his ewes, the trees and the houses on his slates. Then, with the point of his knife, he began to carve wood, giving it all sorts of shapes: this is how Pinelli, the popular sculptor, began."

"The two children began to meet; they used to sit down together beside one another, let their flocks mingle and graze beside each other, while they would chatter, laugh and play. Then, in the evening, they separated the Count of San-Felice's sheep from those of the Baron Cervetri, and the two children would take leave of each other and go back to their respective farms, promising to meet again the following morning."

"Beside the taste for the arts that Luigi had taken as far as it is possible to do in isolation, his nature was fitfully sad, intermittently passionate, capriciously angry, and always derisive. None of the young boys of Pampinara, Palestrina or Valmontone could gain any influence over him, or even become his companion. His wilful temperament, always inclined to demand without ever wishing to make the slightest concession, repelled any friendly advance or demonstration of sympathy. Only Teresa could command this impetuous character with a word, a look or a gesture; he bent beneath the hand of a woman, yet would have stiffened to breaking point beneath that of any man."

"The next day, they would keep their promise, and so they grew up side by side."

"In due course, Vampa was approaching the age of twelve and little Teresa eleven. Meanwhile, their natural instincts were developing."

"Teresa, in contrast, was vivacious, merry and lively, but excessively coquettish. The two piastres that Luigi was given by the Count of San-Felice's steward and the price of all the little carvings that he would sell in the toy markets in Rome went on pearl earrings, glass necklaces and gold pins. Thanks to her young friend's generosity, Teresa was the most beautiful and most elegantly dressed peasant girl in all the country around Rome."

"One day the young shepherd told the count's steward that he had seen a wolf coming down from the mountains of La Sabina and prowling around the flock. The steward gave him a gun -- which is what Vampa wanted."

"As it happened this gun was a fine Brescia piece which fired as far as an English carbine; but one day the count had broken the butt while bludgeoning a wounded fox, and they had thrown it on the scrap heap."

"The two children continued to grow, spending all their days together and abandoning themselves freely to the primitive instincts of their natures. Thus, in their conversations, in their longings and in their dreams, Vampa would always imagine himself the captain of a ship, the general of an army or the governor of a province. Teresa imagined herself rich, wearing the loveliest dresses and attended by servants in livery. Then, when they had spent all day embroidering their futures with these brilliant and foolish patterns, they went their separate ways, each leading the sheep to the appropriate fold, and plummeting from the summits of their dreams to the humble reality of their situation."

"This was no problem for a wood-carver like Vampa. He studied the original setting, adjusted the aim to suit himself and made a new butt so splendidly carved that, if he had wanted to sell the wood by itself, he could certainly have got fifteen or twenty piastres for it in town."

"From this time on, Vampa devoted all his spare moments to practising with his gun. He bought powder and shot, and took anything as his target: the trunk of the olive-tree that grows sadly, grey and cringing on the slopes of La Sabina; the fox emerging from its earth at dusk to begin its nightly hunt; the eagle gliding through the air. He soon became so skilled that Teresa overcame the fear that she had originally felt on hearing the gun fire and was entertained at seeing her friend put the shot just where he wanted to, as precisely as if he had placed it with his hand."

"But the young man had no interest in doing that: for a long time he had dreamed of having a gun. In every country where independence takes the place of liberty, the first need felt by any strong mind and powerful constitution is to possess a weapon which can serve both for attack and defence; and which, by making its bearer formidable, will mean that he often inspires dread."

"One evening, a wolf did indeed come out of a pine wood near which the young people were in the habit of staying. This wolf had not taken ten steps in the open before it was dead. Vampa, proud of his prowess, slung the body over his shoulders and took it back to the farm."

"All this gave Luigi a certain reputation in the district. A superior being, wherever he may be, always acquires a following of admirers. People spoke of the young shepherd as the most skilful, the strongest and bravest contadino for ten leagues around; and even though Teresa, for her part, was considered over an even greater distance as one of the loveliest girls of La Sabina, no one considered speaking a word to her about love, because everyone knew she was loved by Vampa."

"Despite this, the two young people had never declared their love to one another. They had grown up side by side like two trees, the roots of which mingle beneath the earth, as their branches above it and their scents in the air. Yet their desire to see one another was the same: this desire had become a need, and they could understand death better than a single day's separation."

"The celebrated Cucumetto, hunted down in the Abruzzi, driven out of the kingdom of Naples, where he had been carrying on a veritable war, had crossed Garigliano like Manfred and come to take refuge on the banks of the Amasina between Sonnino and Juperno. Here he set about reorganizing a band of outlaws, following in the footsteps of Decesaris and Gasparone, whom he hoped soon to surpass. Several young people from Palestrina, Frascati and Pampinara vanished. At first people were concerned about them, but it was soon learned that they had gone to join Cucumetto's band."

"Teresa was sixteen and Vampa seventeen."

"At about this time, people began to speak a great deal about a band of brigands that was gathering in the Lepini mountains. Banditry has never been properly eradicated from the countryside around Rome. There may sometimes be a shortage of leaders but, when one appears, seldom does he find any shortage of bandits to lead."

"Cucumetto himself shortly became the focus of everybody's attention. Acts of astonishing daring were attributed to him, as well as disgusting brutality."

"One day, he carried off a young girl, the daughter of the land surveyor in Frosinone. The rule among bandits is clear: any girl belongs to the man who first abducts her, then the others draw lots for her, and the unfortunate creature serves to satisfy the lusts of the whole band until the brigands abandon her or she dies."

"When the parents are rich enough to buy her back, the bandits send a messenger to bargain over the ransom: the prisoner's life serves as a guarantee of the emissary's safety. If the ransom is refused, the prisoner is irretrievably condemned."

"This girl had a lover in Cucumetto's band; his name was Carlini. When she recognized the young man, she held out her arms to him and imagined that she was saved. But poor Carlini, when he in turn recognized her, felt his heart break, because he knew very well what fate had in store for her."

"However, as he was Cucumetto's favourite, had shared every danger with him for three years and had saved his life by shooting a carabiniere whose sabre was already poised above Cucumetto's head, he hoped that the chief would take pity on him. So he took him aside, while the young girl, seated against the trunk of a tall pine growing in the middle of a clearing in the forest, had made a veil from the picturesque head-dress that these Roman peasant women wear, and was hiding her face from the lustful gaze of the bandits."

"Cucumetto appeared to give in to his friend's prayers and instructed him to find a shepherd whom they could send to Rita's father in Frosinone."

"At this, Carlini went joyfully to the girl, told her she was saved and asked her to write a letter to her father, letting him know what had happened and telling him that her ransom had been fixed at three hundred piastres. The father was given a mere twelve hours to comply, that is to say, by the next morning at nine o'clock."

"He told Cucumetto everything: about his love for the prisoner, their promises of fidelity and how, every night while they had been in the district, they had met in some ruins. That evening, as it happened, Cucumetto had sent Carlini to a neighbouring village, so he had not been able to keep his appointment; but Cucumetto, or so he said, had chanced to go there and this was how he came to abduct the girl. Carlini begged his leader to make an exception for him and to respect Rita, telling him that her father was rich and would pay a good ransom."

"He found the rest of the band in the clearing where they were merrily supping on the provisions which bandits would levy on the peasants as a simple tribute. Among the merrymakers he looked in vain for Cucumetto and Rita. He asked where they were, but the bandits replied with a huge burst of laughter. A cold sweat broke out on Carlini's brow and he felt his scalp creep with anxiety."

"He found a young shepherd who was driving his flock to the pen. Shepherds are natural messengers for bandits, because they live between the town and the mountain, between civilized life and savagery."

"Once the letter had been written, Carlini immediately took it and ran down into the valley to find a messenger."

"The young shepherd left at once, promising to be in Frosinone within the hour, while Carlini returned happily to find his mistress and tell her this good news."

"He repeated the question. One of the diners filled a glass with Orvieto wine and handed it to him, saying: 'To the health of brave Cucumetto and the beautiful Rita!'"

"A hundred yards away, on the other side of some bushes, he found Rita, senseless in the arms of Cucumetto. When he saw Carlini, Cucumetto got up with a pistol in each hand. The two bandits stared at each other, one with a lustful smile on his lips, the other with the pallor of death on his brow."

"At that moment, Carlini thought he heard a woman's cry. He guessed what had happened. He took the glass, broke it across the face of the man who was offering it to him and ran towards the place from which the cry had come."

"You would have thought that something terrible was about to happen between the two men; but, little by little, Carlini's features relaxed and the hand which he had brought up to one of the pistols in his belt lapsed back to his side."

"'Yes, captain,' Carlini replied. 'Tomorrow, before nine o'clock, Rita's father will be here with the money.'"

"Rita was lying between the two of them and the scene was lit by moonlight."

"'Well?' said Cucumetto. 'Did you carry out my orders?'"

"'Splendid! Meanwhile, we shall enjoy a pleasant night. This girl is charming and I must congratulate you on your taste, Signor Carlini. So, as I am not selfish, we shall return to our comrades and draw lots to see who will have her next.'"

"'Calm yourself,' Cucumetto said, laughing. 'Sooner or later, you will have your turn.'"

"Cucumetto went off without letting Carlini out of his sight, no doubt fearing that he might strike him from behind. But nothing in the bandit's manner suggested any hostile intention. He was standing, with his arms folded, beside the body of Rita, who had still not regained consciousness."

"'I thought that my request…'"

"'And are you more important than the others?'"

"'Correct.'"

"Carlini's teeth were clenched to breaking point."

"For a moment, Cucumetto thought that the young man might take her in his arms and escape with her. Not that it mattered to him very much now: he had had what he wanted of Rita and, as far as the money was concerned, three hundred piastres divided among all of them amounted to so little that he hardly cared about it. So he carried on towards the clearing where, to his great astonishment, Carlini arrived almost at the same time as he did."

"'Come on,' Cucumetto said, taking a step in the direction of the feast. 'Will you join us?'"

"'Why make an exception in her favour?'"

"'So you have decided to abandon her to the common law?'"

"'I will follow you…'"

"What they asked for was within the regulations, so the chief nodded to show that he agreed to their request. All the names were put into a hat, Carlini's with the rest, and the youngest member of the band drew one of them out."

"The slip of paper bore the name of Diavolaccio."

"'Cast lots! Cast lots!' the bandits cried when they saw their chief. And the eyes of all these men shone with drunkenness and lust, while the flames from the fire threw a red light on the figures around it that made them resemble demons."

"Now, this was the same man who had proposed the chief's toast, and Carlini had replied to him by breaking a glass on his face. The blood was still flowing from a long cut, extending from his temple to his mouth. When he saw how fortune had favoured him, Diavolaccio burst out laughing."

"Everyone expected some outburst from Carlini but, to everyone's surprise, he took a glass in one hand and a flask in the other; and, filling the glass, he announced, in a perfectly calm voice: 'To your health, Diavolaccio!'"

"'Captain,' he said, 'a short while ago, Carlini did not want to drink to your health, so suggest that he drinks to mine. Perhaps he will be more obliging to you than he was to me.'"

"'Long live Carlini!' the bandits cried. 'Not before time! That's how to accept the matter like a good companion!'"

"He swallowed the contents of the glass without a tremor of the hand then, sitting by the fire, he said: 'Where's my share of supper? The errand I have just run has given me an appetite.'"

"The bandits were looking at one another in astonishment, not understanding this impassivity, when they heard heavy footsteps on the ground behind them. They looked around and saw Diavolaccio carrying the girl in his arms. Her head was thrown back and her long hair hung down to the ground. As the two came closer to the light from the fire, the spectators noticed the pallor of the girl and the pallor of the bandit."

"They all returned to make a circle around the fire, while Diavolaccio went off. Carlini ate and drank as if nothing had happened."

"There was something so strange and so solemn about this apparition that everyone got up, except Carlini, who remained seated and continued to eat and drink as if nothing was happening. Diavolaccio continued to walk forward, surrounded by the deepest silence, and set Rita down at the captain's feet."

"Any savage nature is capable of appreciating a determined action; perhaps no other of the bandits would have done what Carlini had just done, but all of them understood him."

"All eyes turned towards Carlini. The sheath at his belt was empty."

"At this, everyone understood the reason for the girl's pallor and that of the bandit: Rita had a knife buried up to the hilt beneath her left breast."

"'Ah!' said the chief. 'Now I understand why Carlini stayed behind.'"

"'Well?' said Carlini, getting up and walking over to the body, with his hand on the butt of one of his pistols. 'Does anyone still want to argue with me over this woman?'"

"'No,' said the chief. 'She is yours.'"

"At midnight the sentry sounded the alarm, and immediately the chief and his companions were on their feet. It was Rita's father coming in person and bearing his daughter's ransom."

"Cucumetto placed his sentries as usual and the bandits went to sleep, wrapped in their cloaks, around the fire."

"Then Carlini himself took her in his arms and carried her out of the circle of light thrown by the flames of the fire."

"But the chief, without taking the money, motioned to him to follow. The old man obeyed and both went away under the trees, under the moonlight filtering through their branches. Eventually Cucumetto stopped and pointed out two people sitting together under a tree."

"'There,' he said to the old man. 'Ask Carlini for your daughter. He will tell you about it.'"

"'Here,' he said to Cucumetto, handing him a bag of money. 'Take it: this is three hundred pistols. Now give me back my child.'"

"And he went back to the group."

"The old man stood there, motionless, staring. He felt that some unknown misfortune, vast and unprecedented, was about to strike him. Finally he took a few steps towards the shapeless group which he could barely make out."

"At the sound of his approach, Carlini looked up and the shape of the two figures began to become clearer to the old man's eyes. A woman was lying on the ground with her head resting on the knees of a seated man who was bending over her. When he looked up the man had revealed the face of the woman which he had been pressing against his chest. The old man recognized his daughter, and Carlini recognized the old man."

"'Miserable creature!' said the old man. 'What have you done?' And he looked in horror at Rita, who was lying, pale, motionless, bloodstained, with a knife in her breast. A ray of moonlight struck her and lit the scene with its wan light."

"'I was expecting you,' the bandit said to Rita's father."

"'Cucumetto violated your daughter,' the bandit said. 'And, since I loved her, I killed her, for after him she would have served for the pleasure of the whole band.'"

"The old man said nothing but went as pale as a ghost."

"'You did well,' the old man said in a dull voice. 'Embrace me, my son.'"

"'Now,' the old man told him, 'help me to bury my daughter.'"

"Carlini flung himself, sobbing, into the arms of his mistress's father. These were the first tears that this man of blood had ever shed."

"'Now,' Carlini said, 'if I was wrong, avenge her.' And he drew the knife from the young girl's breast, got up and offered it to the old man with one hand, while with the other opening his shirt and presenting him with his bared chest."

"'I order you to leave me.'"

"Carlini went to fetch two spades, then the father and lover began to dig under an oak-tree whose dense foliage would cover the young girl's grave. When it was dug, the father kissed her, followed by the lover. Then, one taking her by the feet, the other beneath the shoulders, they lowered her into the grave."

"Carlini obeyed and went back to his comrades, wrapped himself in his cloak and soon appeared to have fallen into as deep a sleep as the others."

"Then, holding out his hand, the old man said: 'Thank you, my son! Now, leave me alone.'"

"After that they knelt, one on each side, and recited the prayer for the dead. When that was done, they shovelled the earth back on the body until the grave was full."

"The previous day it had been decided that they would move camp. An hour before daybreak, Cucumetto woke up his men and gave the order to leave. But Carlini did not want to leave the forest without finding out what had happened to Rita's father. He went to the spot where he had left him and there found the old man hanging from one of the branches of the oak-tree that overshadowed his daughter's grave."

"'But…' said Carlini."

"There were ten other tales no less extraordinary than that one told about this fearful bandit leader. So, from Fondi to Perugia, everyone trembled at the mere name of Cucumetto."

"On the morning of their departure from the forest of Frosinone, he had followed Carlini in the darkness, heard the oath he swore and, being a cautious man, had decided to strike first."

"However, he was unable to keep his oath for, two days later, in an encounter with the Roman carabinieri, Carlini was killed."

"So Carlini swore on the body of one and the grave of the other that he would avenge them both."

"These stories were often the subject of conversation between Luigi and Teresa. The girl would be very frightened by them, but Vampa reassured her with a smile and tapped his fine gun which shot so accurately. Then, if she was still not easy in her mind, he would point to some crow perched on a dead branch, take aim at it and fire: the creature would fall at the foot of the tree."

"The only surprising thing was that, though he had been facing the enemy, he was shot by a bullet through the back. But no one any longer felt surprised when one of the bandits pointed out to his colleagues that Cucumetto had been standing ten yards behind Carlini when the latter fell."

"One day, when they were discussing the future, they both heard two or three shots. Then, suddenly, a man came out of the wood near which the pair of them were accustomed to graze their sheep and ran towards them. As soon as he was in earshot, he cried: 'I am being pursued! Can you hide me?'"

"Time went by. The two young people had agreed to marry when Vampa was twenty and Teresa nineteen. Both were orphans, so they did not need to ask permission except from their masters; they had done so and it was granted."

"So, saying nothing, Vampa ran to the stone that covered the entrance to their cave, opened it by pushing back the stone, indicated to the fugitive that he should hide in this refuge which no one knew, returned the stone to its place and went back to sit beside Teresa."

"Almost immediately, four carabinieri appeared on horseback at the edge of the wood. Three seemed to be hunting the fugitive, the fourth had a bandit as his prisoner and was leading him by a rope around the neck."

"The young couple easily realized that this fugitive must be a bandit of some sort, but there exists an innate sympathy between the peasant and the Roman bandit which means that the former is always ready to help the latter."

"The first three surveyed the scene, saw the two young people, galloped over and began to question them."

"'That's annoying,' said the brigadier, 'because the one we are looking for is the leader.'"

"They had seen nothing."

"'Cucumetto?' Luigi and Teresa could not refrain from crying out together."

"'Yes,' the brigadier said. 'And since there is a price of a thousand Roman écus on his head, there would have been five hundred for you if you had helped us to capture him.'"

"The couple looked at one another. For a moment, the brigadier's hopes rose: five hundred Roman écus is equal to three thousand francs, and three thousand francs is a fortune for two poor orphans who want to marry."

"'Yes, it's very annoying,' said Vampa, 'but we haven't seen him.'"

"At this, Vampa went to move the stone and Cucumetto came out."

"Through the cracks in his granite door, he had seen the two young people chatting with the carabinieri and guessed the tenor of the conversation, reading on the faces of Luigi and Teresa their unshakeable determination not to hand him over; so he drew from his pocket a purse full of gold and offered it to them."

"So the carabinieri scoured the countryside in different directions, but to no avail. Then, one by one, they left."

"Several days passed without them seeing or hearing any more of Cucumetto."

"But Vampa tossed his head proudly. As for Teresa, her eyes shone when she thought of all the rich jewels and fine clothes she could buy with that purse full of gold."

"The ball was being given by the count chiefly to please his daughter Carmela, whom he adored. Carmela was just the same age and height as Teresa, and Teresa was at least as beautiful as Carmela."

"Cucumetto was an extremely clever tempter: in him Satan had taken the shape of a bandit rather than a serpent. He intercepted the look and recognized in Teresa a worthy daughter of Eve. He went back into the forest, turning around several times, on the pretext of thanking his liberators."

"The time of the carnival was approaching. The Count of San-Felice announced that he would be holding a great masked ball to which all the most elegant members of Roman society would be invited. Teresa was very anxious to see this ball. Luigi asked his protector the steward for permission for himself and Teresa to take part in it, concealed among the house servants. Permission was granted."

"Two of her companions were dressed in the costumes of women from Nettuno and La Riccia."

"The feast was splendid. Not only was the villa itself brightly lit, but thousands of coloured lanterns were hanging from the trees in the garden. The guests soon overflowed on to the terraces and then to the alleys in the garden. At each crossroads there was an orchestra, a buffet and refreshments. The strollers paused, a quadrille was formed and they danced wherever the fancy took them."

"Carmela was dressed as a woman from Sonino. She had a bonnet embroidered with pearls, her hairpins were of gold and diamonds, her belt was of Turkish silk embroidered with large flowers, her coat and her skirt were of cashmere, her apron was of Indian muslin and the buttons on her bodice were precious stones."

"On the evening of the ball, Teresa put on her finest dress, her most expensive pins, her most brilliant glass beads. She was wearing the costume of the women of Frascati. Luigi had on the picturesque clothes worn by a Roman peasant on feast days. Both mingled, as had been agreed, with the waiters and peasants."

"'May I, father?' said Carmela."

"Four young men from the richest and noblest families in Rome were accompanying them, with that Italian freedom of manner which has no equivalent in any other country in the world; they were dressed as peasants from Albano, Velletri, Civita Castellana and Sora. It goes without saying that their peasant costumes, like those of the women, glittered with gold and precious stones."

"Carmela had the idea of making them into a uniform quadrille, but they were short of a woman. She looked around, but not one of the other guests had a costume similar to hers and those of her companions. Then the Count de San-Felice showed her Teresa, leaning on Luigi's arm among the peasant women."

"Carmela leant over to a young man who was walking beside her and talking, and said a few words to him, pointing at the girl. He followed the direction indicated by the pretty hand, made a sign of obedience and went across to invite Teresa to join the quadrille led by the count's daughter."

"'Of course you may,' the count replied. 'After all, it's carnival!'"

"Teresa felt as if a flame had passed across her face. She looked questioningly at Luigi: there was no way to refuse. Luigi slowly let slip Teresa's arm which he was holding beneath his own, and Teresa went off, trembling, led by her elegant squire, to take her place in the aristocratic quadrille."

"Admittedly, to an artist, there was a great difference between the austere, restrained costume worn by Teresa and those worn by Carmela and her companions; but Teresa was a frivolous and coquettish young girl; she was dazzled by the embroidered muslin, the buckles on the belts, the sheen on the cashmere; she was driven wild by the sparkling of the sapphires and diamonds."

"Luigi, on the other hand, was gripped by a previously unknown emotion: it was like a dull pain, gnawing first at his heart, then quivering as it spread through his veins and took possession of his whole body. His eyes followed every movement made by Teresa and her squire. When their hands touched, he felt a sort of dizziness, his heart thumped and it was as though a bell were chiming in his ears. When they spoke, though Teresa was listening shyly and with lowered gaze to the young nobleman's words, Luigi could read in the man's eyes that they were compliments, and it seemed to him that the earth was spinning beneath his feet, while all the voices of hell whispered ideas of murder and violence. Then, fearing that he might be carried away by his folly, with one hand he clasped the arbour beneath which he was standing, and with the other he grasped convulsively the dagger with the sculpted hilt which he kept in his belt and which, unconsciously, he was drawing from time to time almost entirely out of its sheath."

"Luigi was jealous! He realized that Teresa, carried away by her proud and capricious nature, might one day be lost to him.

"Meanwhile, the young peasant girl, at first shy and almost terrified, had quickly recovered. I said that Teresa was beautiful, but that is not all; she had charm, that savage grace that is so much more powerful than any simpering or affected elegance."

"She almost had the honours of the quadrille and, though she was certainly envious of the count's daughter, it is not altogether impossible that Carmela was jealous of her."

"Her handsome squire led her back, accompanied by many compliments, to the place from which he had taken her, where Luigi was waiting."

"Two or three times, during the contredanse, the girl had cast an eye in his direction and each time had seen him looking pale and drawn. Once, even, the blade of his knife, half drawn out of the sheath, had cast a sinister shaft of light towards her. So she was almost afraid when she returned to her lover's arm."

"The quadrille had been a tremendous success and there was clearly a call for the experiment to be repeated. Only Carmela objected, but the Count of San-Felice begged his daughter so tenderly that she eventually consented."

"What had happened was that Luigi, not feeling strong enough to be tested any further, had led Teresa partly by force and partly by persuasion into another part of the garden. She had gone very unwillingly; but from the young man's distraught appearance and his silence, broken by nervous twitching, she guessed that something unusual was going on in his mind. She herself was not altogether easy inside and, even though she had not done anything wrong, she understood that Luigi had the right to reproach her. For what? She did not know. Nonetheless she felt that such reproaches would be deserved."

"One of the young noblemen went across to invite Teresa, without whom the dance could not take place; but she was gone."

"Yet, to Teresa's great astonishment, Luigi remained silent and not a word passed his lips throughout the rest of the evening. But when the chill of the night had driven the guests from the gardens and the doors of the villa had been closed against them while the ball continued indoors, he took Teresa back home and, as she was about to go in, asked: 'Teresa, what were you thinking of while you were dancing opposite the young Countess of San-Felice?'"

"'I was thinking,' the girl answered in all frankness, 'that I should give half my life to have a costume like the one she was wearing.'"

"'And what did your partner say?'"

"'He told me that it was up to me if I should have such a dress, I had only to say one word.'"

"The young girl looked up in astonishment to ask for an explanation, but his face was so sombre and fearful that the question froze on her lips. In any case, while he was speaking, Luigi had started to walk away. Teresa looked after him until he disappeared into the darkness and, when she could no longer see him, she sighed and went into her house."

"'He was right,' Luigi replied. 'Do you want it as desperately as you say?'"

"That same night a great accident occurred, no doubt because of the neglectfulness of some servant who had forgotten to put out the lights: the Villa San-Felice caught fire, in the very wing where the beautiful Carmela had her apartments. Woken up in the middle of the night by the glow of the flames, she had leapt out of bed, pulled on her nightgown and tried to escape through the door; but the corridor outside was already enveloped in flames. So she returned to her room, crying loudly for help, when suddenly her window, which was twenty feet off the ground, flew open and a young peasant lad burst into the apartment, took her in his arms and, with superhuman strength and agility, carried her out and down to the lawn, where she fainted. When she regained her senses, her father was standing in front of her, surrounded by all the servants who were trying to help her. A whole wing of the villa had burned down -- but what did it matter, since Carmela was safe and sound?"

"'Yes.'"

"'Then you shall have it!'"

"They looked everywhere for her saviour, but he did not appear. Everyone was questioned; no one had seen him. As for Carmela, she was so overwhelmed by events that she did not recognize him."

"Luigi took Teresa's arm in his and led her to the door of the cave. There he stopped. The girl, realizing that something extraordinary was up, stared closely at him."

"In any event, as the count was immensely rich, apart from the danger that had threatened Carmela -- and which appeared to him, thanks to her miraculous escape from it, more like a new sign that fate was smiling on him, rather than a real disaster -- the loss caused by the flames mattered very little to him."

"The next day, at the usual time, the two young peasants met on the edge of the forest. Luigi was the first to arrive. He came joyfully to meet the girl, apparently having entirely forgotten what had passed between them the previous evening. Teresa was pensive but, when she saw Luigi's good humour, she adopted the attitude of merry insouciance which was her natural temperament when no greater passion happened to disturb it."

"'And I told you: very well, you shall have it?'"

"'I have never promised you anything which I have not given you, Teresa,' Luigi said proudly. 'Go into the grotto, and dress yourself.'"

"'Yes,' she replied with amazement, 'but I was mad to make such a wish.'"

"'Teresa,' he said, 'yesterday evening you told me that you would give everything to have a costume like that of the count's daughter?'"

"'Yes,' the girl said, her astonishment growing with every word that Luigi spoke. 'But I suppose you only said that to please me.'"

"At this, he rolled back the stone and showed Teresa the inside of the cave, lit by two candles burning on each side of a splendid mirror. On a rustic table which Luigi had made were the pearl necklace and diamond pins; on a chair beside them, the rest of the costume."

"Teresa gave a cry of joy and, without asking where the dress had come from or taking the time to thank Luigi, she dashed into the cave which had been transformed into her dressing-room."

"Luigi pulled the stone back behind her, because he had just noticed a traveller on horseback on the crest of a little hill that blocked the view between where he was and the town of Palestrina. The rider had paused as if uncertain of his way and was outlined against the blue sky with the peculiar sharpness given to distant objects by the atmosphere in southern lands."

"'There is your way, Excellency,' he said. 'You cannot make a mistake from here on.'"

"When he saw Luigi, the traveller galloped down towards him. Luigi had been right: the man was going from Palestrina to Tivoli and had lost his way. The young man put him on the right track; however, since the road divided again into three paths, when the traveller reached them he might lose his way once more, so he begged Luigi to act as his guide."

"Luigi took off his cloak and put it on the ground, slung his carbine over his shoulder and, free of his heavy shepherd's mantle, walked ahead of the traveller with the rapid pace of a mountain-dweller with which even a walking horse has difficulty in keeping up."

"In ten minutes the two of them had reached the sort of crossroads that the young shepherd had mentioned. Here, with a majestic gesture like that of an emperor, Luigi pointed to the one of the three roads that the traveller should follow."

"'And here is your reward,' the traveller said, offering the young shepherd a few small coins."

"'Thank you,' said Luigi, withdrawing his hand. 'I give services, I don't sell them.'"

"The traveller seemed used to this difference between the servility of the townsman and the pride of the countryman: 'Very well,' he said. "If you refuse payment, at least accept a gift.'"

"'Ah, that is another matter.'"

"'Fine! Take these two Venetian sequins and give them to your fiancée to make a pair of earrings.'"

"'And you, then, take this dagger,' said the young shepherd. 'You will not find one with a better-carved handle between Albano and Civita Castellana.'"

"'What is your name?' asked the traveller."

"'I accept,' said the traveller. 'But in that case, it is I who shall be in your debt, because this dagger is worth more than two sequins.'"

"'I,' said the traveller, 'am called Sinbad the Sailor.'"

"'Luigi Vampa,' the shepherd replied, in the same accents in which he might have said: Alexander, king of Macedonia. 'And yours?'"

"'To a shopkeeper, perhaps, but to me, who carved it myself, it is hardly worth one piastre.'"

Franz d'Epinay gave a cry of astonishment.

"Yes," the storyteller answered. "That was the name that the traveller told Vampa."

"Sinbad the Sailor!" he exclaimed.

"What do you have against the name?" Albert interrupted. "It's a very fine one, and the adventures of the gentleman's patron, I must admit, entertained me greatly when I was young."

"He leapt like a chamois, cocking his gun as he ran, and in less than a minute he had reached the top of the hill opposite the one on which he had seen the traveller. From there, he could hear the cry of 'Help, help!' more clearly than ever. He looked down into the hollow below him and saw that a man was carrying Teresa off, just as the centaur Nessus carried off Deianira."

Franz did not insist. As one may understand, the name of Sinbad the Sailor had brought back a flood of memories to him, as had the name of the Count of Monte Cristo the previous evening.

"Continue," he told his host.

"Vampa disdainfully put the sequins into his pocket and slowly returned the way he had come. When he had arrived within two or three hundred yards of the cave, he thought he heard a cry. He stopped, listening to make out where it came from. A moment later, he clearly heard someone calling his name. The sound was coming from the grotto."

"The man was making his way towards the woods and had already reached the halfway point between there and the cave."

"Vampa measured the distance. They were at least two hundred yards ahead of him; he had no hope of catching them up before they reached the woods."

"The young shepherd stopped as if his feet had grown roots. He put the gun to his cheek, slowly raised the barrel towards the ravisher, followed this moving target for a second and fired. The man stopped in his tracks. His knees buckled and he fell, taking Teresa down with him."

"However, she got up immediately. As for the man, he stayed on the ground, thrashing in agony."

"Vampa at once ran towards Teresa because she had not got ten paces away from the dying man when her own legs failed her and she fell to her knees. The young peasant was terrified that the shot which had just brought down his enemy might have wounded her at the same time."

"Fortunately this was not the case; sheer terror had deprived Teresa of strength. When Luigi was quite sure that she was safe and sound, he turned to the wounded man."

"Vampa went across to the corpse and recognized Cucumetto."

"He had just expired, with his fists clenched, his mouth twisted in pain and his hair rigid with the sweat of his final agony. His eyes had remained open and threatening."

"On the day when the bandit had been saved by the two young people, he had fallen in love with Teresa and had sworn that the girl would be his. Since that time he had spied on her and, taking advantage of the moment when her lover left her alone to show the traveller his way, he had abducted her and already considered her his own when Vampa's bullet, guided by his unerring aim, went straight through Cucumetto's heart."

"Vampa looked at him for a moment without showing the slightest sign of emotion, while Teresa, on the contrary, was still trembling and only dared to creep towards the dead bandit and cautiously take a look at him over her lover's shoulder."

"After a short time, Vampa turned to his mistress and said: 'Ah, good! You are dressed. Now it's my turn to get ready.'"

"Teresa was indeed dressed from head to foot in the costume belonging to the daughter of the Count of San-Felice."

"Vampa took Cucumetto's body in his arms and carried it into the grotto while Teresa remained outside. If at this time a second traveller had ridden past, he would have seen something odd: a shepherdess watching her sheep in a cashmere dress, with pearl earrings and necklace, diamond pins and buttons of sapphires, emeralds and rubies. He would no doubt have thought he had been transported back into the age of Florian and on his return to Paris would have sworn that he had seen the Shepherdess of the Alps seated at the foot of the Sabine Mountains."

"After a quarter of an hour Vampa came out of the cave. His costume was no less elegant in its way than Teresa's. He had on a jacket of garnet-coloured velvet with wrought-gold buttons, a waistcoat covered in embroidery, a Roman scarf knotted around his neck and a cartridge-belt picked out in gold leaf and ornamented with red and green silk. He had sky-blue velvet trousers, fastened above the knee with diamond buckles, richly tooled buckskin gaiters and a hat decorated with ribbons in every colour. Two watches hung at his waist and there was a splendid dagger set in his cartridge belt."

"He observed the effect of this on his fiancée and a smile of pride crossed his lips. 'Now,' he said, 'are you ready to share my fortune, whatever it may be?'"

"Teresa cried out in admiration. Dressed in this way, Vampa looked like a painting by Léopold Robert or Schnetz. He had decked himself out in Cucumetto's entire costume."

"It goes without saying that Vampa knew all the mountain tracks, so he went forward into the forest without hesitation, even though there was no path before them, finding his way merely by looking at the trees and bushes. They walked for about an hour and a half."

"'Oh, yes!' the girl exclaimed eagerly."

"The girl took her lover's arm without even asking where they were going; for, at that moment, he seemed to her as handsome, as proud and as powerful as a god. In a few moments the couple had crossed into the forest and began to proceed through it."

"'To follow me wherever I lead?'"

"'Then take my arm and let's go, for we have no time to lose.'"

"'To the ends of the earth.'"

"After that, they reached the thickest part of the wood. A dry river-bed led into a deep gorge. Vampa took this strange path which, enclosed between two banks and darkened by the thick shade of the pines, resembled in everything but the ease of descent the path of the Avernus of which Virgil speaks."

"Suddenly, ten yards ahead of them, a man seemed to appear from the very trunk of the tree behind which he had been concealed, and levelled his gun at Vampa, crying: 'Not another step, or you are a dead man!'"

"'Come now,' said Vampa, raising his hand in a contemptuous gesture, while Teresa clung to him, no longer able to conceal her terror. 'Do wolves fight among themselves?'"

"Teresa's fears had returned at the sight of this wild and desolate place. She pressed close to her guide, saying nothing; but, seeing that he continued to walk ahead at an even pace with a profound look of tranquillity on his face, she herself found the strength to hide her feelings."

"'And what do you want?'"

"'I wish to speak to your companions who are in the clearing of Rocca Bianca.'"

"'I am Luigi Vampa, shepherd from the farm of San-Felice.'"

"'Then follow me,' said the sentry. 'Or, rather, as you know where it is, lead the way.'"

"Vampa smiled contemptuously at this precaution, stepped ahead with Teresa and continued on his way with the same calm, firm step that had brought him this far."

"'Who are you?' asked the sentry."

"'Very well,' said the bandit. 'Now you can carry on.'"

"The clearing at Rocca Bianca was on the summit of a little mountain which had no doubt previously been a volcano, but one that had become extinct before Romulus and Remus left Alba to come and build Rome. Teresa and Luigi reached the summit and were immediately confronted with about twenty bandits."

"In five minutes the bandit signalled to them to stop. They did so. The bandit gave the cry of a crow three times, and it was answered by a single cawing."

"'Here is a young man who has been looking for you and wants to talk to you,' said the sentry."

"Luigi and Teresa did so; but as they advanced, Teresa trembled and pressed even closer to her lover: through the trees they could see weapons appearing and the sunlight glittering on the barrels of guns."

"'And what does he want to say?' asked the man who was acting as captain in their leader's absence."

"'I want to say that I am tired of being a shepherd,' said Vampa."

"'Ah, I understand,' replied the lieutenant. 'You have come to ask to be admitted to our ranks?'"

"'I have killed your leader, Cucumetto, whose clothes these are,' said Luigi. 'And I set light to the villa of San-Felice to give my fiancée a wedding dress.'"

"What is a myth?" Pastrini asked.

"'I want to ask to be your captain,' the young man said."

"Well, my dear Albert," said Franz, turning to his friend. "What do you think now of Citizen Luigi Vampa?"

"The bandits burst out laughing."

"I think he's a myth," Albert replied. "He never existed."

"'Let him be welcome!' several bandits from Ferrusino, Pampinara and Anagni cried, having recognized Luigi Vampa."

"'So what have you done to aspire to such an honour?' the lieutenant demanded."

"An hour later, Luigi Vampa had been elected captain to replace Cucumetto."

"'Yes, except that I am requesting something else, apart from being your companion.'"

"It would take too long to explain, my good friend," Franz replied. "So you are telling us that Signor Vampa is currently exercising his profession in the environs of Rome?"

"'What is your request?' the bandits said in astonishment."

"So the police have tried in vain to capture him?"

"With a boldness that no previous bandit has ever displayed."

"What do you expect? He is in league with the shepherds of the plain, the Tiber fishermen and the coastal smugglers. If they go looking for him in the mountains, he is on the river; if they hunt him down the river, he is out at sea; then suddenly, when they think he has taken refuge on the islands of Giglio, Guanouti or Monte Cristo, he reappears in Albano, Tivoli or La Riccia."

"Well, Albert," Franz asked his companion, "do you still feel like going to the Colosseum via the boulevards outside the walls?"

"And how does he treat travellers?"

"Very simply. According to the distance from the city, he allows them eight hours, twelve hours or a day to pay their ransom. Then, when the time has elapsed, he gives them an hour's grace. On the sixtieth minute of that hour, if he does not have the money, he blows out the prisoner's brains with his pistol or buries his dagger in his heart, and there's an end to it."

"Via the Porta del Popolo, Excellencies, or through the streets?"

"Naturally," said Albert, "if the route is more picturesque."

At that moment the clock struck nine, the door opened and the coachman appeared. "Excellencies," he said, "your carriage awaits you."

"Very well," said Franz, "in that case, to the Colosseum!"

"Through the streets, confound it! Through the streets!" said Franz.

"Oh, my dear fellow!" said Albert, getting up and lighting his third cigar. "I must confess I thought you braver than that!" Upon which the two young men went down the stairs and got into their carriage.