thee what has become of her;' and he returned to his companions.
The old man remained motionless; he felt that some great and
unforeseen misfortune hung over his head. At length he advanced
toward the group, the meaning of which he could not comprehend. As
he approached, Carlini raised his head, and the forms of two
persons became visible to the old man's eyes. A woman lay on the
ground, her head resting on the knees of a man, who was seated by
her; as he raised his head, the woman's face became visible. The
old man recognized his child, and Carlini recognized the old man.
`I expected thee,' said the bandit to Rita's father. — `Wretch!'
returned the old man, `what hast thou done?' and he gazed with
terror on Rita, pale and bloody, a knife buried in her bosom. A ray
of moonlight poured through the trees, and lighted up the face of
the dead. — `Cucumetto had violated thy daughter,' said the bandit;
`I loved her, therefore I slew her; for she would have served as
the sport of the whole band.' The old man spoke not, and grew pale
as death. `Now,' continued Carlini, `if I have done wrongly, avenge
her;' and withdrawing the knife from the wound in Rita's bosom, he
held it out to the old man with one hand, while with the other he
tore open his vest. — `Thou hast done well!' returned the old man
in a hoarse voice; `embrace me, my son.' Carlini threw himself,
sobbing like a child, into the arms of his mistress's father. These
were the first tears the man of blood had ever wept. `Now,' said
the old man, `aid me to bury my child.' Carlini fetched two
pickaxes; and the father and the lover began to dig at the foot of
a huge oak, beneath which the young girl was to repose. When the
grave was formed, the father kissed her first, and then the lover;
afterwards, one taking the head, the other the feet, they placed
her in the grave. Then they knelt on each side of the grave, and
said the prayers of the dead. Then, when they had finished, they
cast the earth over the corpse, until the grave was filled. Then,cast the earth over the corpse, until the grave was filled. Then,
extending his hand, the old man said; `I thank you, my son; and now
leave me alone.' — `Yet' — replied Carlini. — `Leave me, I command
you.' Carlini obeyed, rejoined his comrades, folded himself in his
cloak, and soon appeared to sleep as soundly as the rest. It had
been resolved the night before to change their encampment. An hour
before daybreak, Cucumetto aroused his men, and gave the word to
march. But Carlini would not quit the forest, without knowing what
had become of Rita's father. He went toward the place where he had
left him. He found the old man suspended from one of the branches
of the oak which shaded his daughter's grave. He then took an oath
of bitter vengeance over the dead body of the one and the tomb of
the other. But he was unable to complete this oath, for two days
afterwards, in an encounter with the Roman carbineers, Carlini was
killed. There was some surprise, however, that, as he was with his
face to the enemy, he should have received a ball between his
shoulders. That astonishment ceased when one of the brigands
remarked to his comrades that Cucumetto was stationed ten paces in
Carlini's rear when he fell. On the morning of the departure from
the forest of Frosinone he had followed Carlini in the darkness,
and heard this oath of vengeance, and, like a wise man, anticipated
it. They told ten other stories of this bandit chief, each more
singular than the other. Thus, from Fondi to Perusia, every one
trembles at the name of Cucumetto.
"These narratives were frequently the theme of conversation
between Luigi and Teresa. The young girl trembled very much at
hearing the stories; but Vampa reassured her with a smile, tapping
the butt of his good fowling-piece, which threw its ball so well;
and if that did not restore her courage, he pointed to a crow,
perched on some dead branch, took aim, touched the trigger, and the
bird fell dead at the foot of the tree. Time passed on, and the twobird fell dead at the foot of the tree. Time passed on, and the two
young people had agreed to be married when Vampa should be twenty
and Teresa nineteen years of age. They were both orphans, and had
only their employers' leave to ask, which had been already sought
and obtained. One day when they were talking over their plans for
the future, they heard two or three reports of firearms, and then
suddenly a man came out of the wood, near which the two young
persons used to graze their flocks, and hurried towards them. When
he came within hearing, he exclaimed. `I am pursued; can you
conceal me?' They knew full well that this fugitive must be a
bandit; but there is an innate sympathy between the Roman brigand
and the Roman peasant and the latter is always ready to aid the
former. Vampa, without saying a word, hastened to the stone that
closed up the entrance to their grotto, drew it away, made a sign
to the fugitive to take refuge there, in a retreat unknown to every
one, closed the stone upon him, and then went and resumed his seat
by Teresa. Instantly afterwards four carbineers, on horseback,
appeared on the edge of the wood; three of them appeared to be
looking for the fugitive, while the fourth dragged a brigand
prisoner by the neck. The three carbineers looked about carefully
on every side, saw the young peasants, and galloping up, began to
question them. They had seen no one. `That is very annoying,' said
the brigadier; for the man we are looking for is the chief.' —
`Cucumetto?' cried Luigi and Teresa at the same moment.
"`Yes,' replied the brigadier; `and as his head is valued at a
thousand Roman crowns, there would have been five hundred for you,
if you had helped us to catch him.' The two young persons exchanged
looks. The brigadier had a moment's hope. Five hundred Roman crowns
are three thousand lire, and three thousand lire are a fortune for
two poor orphans who are going to be married.
"`Yes, it is very annoying,' said Vampa; `but we have not seen
him.'