The Sicilian Bandit

CHAPTER VII. – A BRIGAND'S VENGEANCE

At the time of which we are speaking – that is, about the beginning of the year 1804, Sicily was almost in an uncivilised state, from which the return of King Ferdinand and its occupation by the English have partially emancipated it. At the present day, the road which now leads from Palermo to Messina, passing through Taormina and Catana, was not formed, and the only one that existed, we do not say good, but practicable to go from one capital to the other, was that which, passing along the sea-coast, went through Termini and Cephalu; abandoned for its new rival, it is at present scarcely frequented, except by artists in search of the magnificent prospects it discloses at every turn. The only mode of travelling on this road, on which no post was established, was formerly, as at present, on the back of a mule, in a litter carried by two horses, or in your own carriage, relays of horses being sent on before, and placed at every fifteen leagues.

So that the Countess Gemma de Castel Nuovo, when about to leave for Messina, at which place the Prince of Carini had written to her to join him, was obliged to choose one of these three modes. Travelling on a mule was too fatiguing for her, and a journey in a litter, besides the inconveniences of this mode of transport, the principal of which was its slow progress, was apt to produce a feeling like sea-sickness. The countess therefore decided, without any hesitation, in favour of the carriage, and sent forward relays of horses to four stations on the road, that is, to Termini, Cephalu, Saint Agatha, and Melazzo.

Besides these precautions, the courier was ordered to lay in a store of provisions at each of these spots, for the inns are so notoriously deficient in the necessaries of life, that every traveller is advised when he leaves Messina to provide himself for the journey – to purchase cooking utensils, and to hire a cook; to these preparations an experienced Englishman on one occasion added a tent, on account of the deplorable state of the houses of entertainment.

I know not whether it was a learned man, acquainted with ancient Sicily, or a shrewd observer who thoroughly understood modern Sicily, for whom they were at this instant preparing supper at the sign of the Cross, the inn which had been rebuilt with the Prince of Butera's three hundred ounces, and situated on the road from Palermo to Messina, between Ficara and Patti.

The activity of the innkeeper and his wife, who, under the directions of a foreign cook, were at the same time engaged upon fish, flesh, and fowl, proved that the man for whom the culinary apparatus was in requisition was determined not only to have enough, but had no objection to a superfluity.

He came from Messina, travelling in a carriage, and with his own horses. He had stopped because the situation of the inn pleased him, and having extracted from his trunk everything the most experienced traveller could require – linen, plate, even bread and wine – he was led into the best room, where he lighted some perfumed pastilles in a silver vase, and waited till his dinner was ready, seated on a rich Turkey carpet, and smoking the finest Mount Sinai tobacco in his amber chibouk, carelessly caressing at the same time a magnificent Corsican dog of the largest size that was lying at his feet.

He was attentively observing the wreaths of sweet-scented smoke as they escaped from his lips and condensed themselves on the ceiling, when the door of the apartment opened, and the host, followed by a domestic in the countess's livery, appeared on the threshold.

"Your excellency," said the worthy man, bowing to the ground.

"What's the matter?" asked the traveller, but without turning his head, and in a decided Maltese accent.

"Your excellency," said the host, "it is the Countess Gemma, of Castel Nuovo."

"Well!" replied the traveller.

"Her carriage has been obliged to stop at my poor inn," said the host, "because one of her horses became so lame that she is unable to proceed."

"Well, go on," said the traveller.

"She had calculated," said the host, "having no expectation of this accident when she left St. Agatha this morning, on sleeping at Melazzo this evening, where she has relays, so that she is entirely unprovided with everything."

"Tell the countess that my cook and larder are at her service," said the traveller.

"A thousand thanks in my mistress's name," said the servant; "but as the countess will, no doubt, be obliged to pass the night in this inn, while a relay of horses is brought hither from Melazzo, and as she is equally unprovided for night as for day, she would be glad to know if your excellency would have the gallantry to – "

"More than that," said the traveller; "let the countess occupy my apartment – this room will do for her lady's-maid, whom she will not be sorry to have near her. As for myself, I am a man accustomed to fatigue and privations; I will content myself with the first room that is disengaged; go, therefore, and tell the countess she can step up at once – the room is at liberty, and our worthy host will do the best he can for me."

Speaking thus, the traveller rose, whistled to his dog, and followed the host; and the servant at once descended to accomplish his mission.

Gemma accepted the traveller's offer as a queen would the homage of a subject, and not as a woman who accepts a service from a stranger; she was so accustomed to see everything submit to her will, and everybody obey her voice, and even her look, that she saw nothing striking in the extreme gallantry of the traveller.

It is true she looked so beautiful as she moved towards the apartment, resting on the arm of her attendant, that every one bent before her. She was dressed in a most elegant riding-habit, fitting tightly over the arms and bust, and ornamented with silk braiding. For fear of the cold air of the mountains, she wore round her neck a beautiful sable boa, purchased by the Prince Carini of a Maltese merchant who had brought it from Constantinople. On her head she wore a little black velvet hat, of a fanciful shape, like the head-dresses worn in the middle ages; and her long and magnificent tresses hung down in ringlets after the English fashion. But, prepared as she was to find a room ready to receive her, she could not avoid being astonished when she entered at the elegant manner in which the traveller had concealed the poor appearance of the apartment.

All the utensils of the toilet were of silver, the cloth that covered the table was of the finest texture, and the oriental perfumes burning on the mantelpiece seemed fit for a harem.

"See, Gidsa, am I not predestined?" said the countess; "an awkward servant shoes my horses badly, I am obliged to stop, and my good genius, who finds me in this state of embarrassment, builds a fairy palace for me on the road."

"Has madame la comtesse," said Gidsa, "no suspicion who this good genius may be?"

"Really none," said the countess.

"It seems to me," said the waiting-maid, significantly, "that madame la comtesse ought to be able to guess!"

"I swear to you, Gidsa," said the countess, falling into a chair, "that I am in a state of perfect ignorance. Come, what are your ideas on the subject?"

"My ideas?" said the girl. "Madame, I trust you will pardon me, although my ideas are very natural."

"Oh! certainly," replied the countess; "speak as you think."

"I think," said the girl, "that perhaps his highness the viceroy, knowing that your ladyship was on the road, had not patience to wait for your arrival, and" —

"Your idea," said the countess, "is amazingly good; indeed, it is more than probable. Besides, who, if it were not he, would have arranged a room like this for the purpose of giving it up to me? Now listen, you must say nothing if Rodolpho is preparing a surprise for me. I would give myself up entirely to it; I would not lose one of the emotions his unexpected presence would occasion me. It is agreed, therefore, that it is not the viceroy, but that the stranger is an unknown traveller; so keep your probabilities to yourself, and leave me in my state of doubt; besides, if it should be him, I shall have divined his presence, not you. How kind my dear Rodolpho is to me! how he foresees everything! Oh! how much he loves me!"

"And the dinner," said Gidsa, "that has been prepared with so much care; do you believe that the result of mere accident?"

"Chut! I believe nothing; I profit by the good things heaven has sent me, and I thank God for them. See what a lucky thing it is that this plate is here! if I had not met with this noble traveller, how should I have been able to eat off anything else? Look at this silver goblet, you might say it was engraved by Benvenuto. Give me some drink, Gidsa."

The attendant filled the goblet with water, and then added a few drops of Lipari malvoisie, and the countess sipped it, apparently more for the purpose of carrying the cup to her lips than because she was thirsty; it seemed as though, by the sympathetic touch of her lips, she endeavoured to discover whether it really was the man who loved her who had thus provided for the wants of a woman accustomed to all that luxury and magnificence which becomes almost an essential necessary to those who have been used to it from infancy.

Supper was served, and the countess ate like a fine lady, that is, tasting of all, like the humming-bird, the bee, or the butterfly; but, full of thought and anxiety, while she was eating, she kept her eyes constantly fixed on the door, and started every time it opened – her bosom was oppressed and her eyes moist; at length, she fell by degrees into a delicious state of languor for which she herself could not account. Gidsa perceived it and became uneasy.

"Is your ladyship unwell?" asked the anxious attendant.

"No," replied Gemma, in a feeble voice; "but do you not find these perfumes extremely oppressive?"

"Does your ladyship wish me to open the window?" asked Gidsa.

"No, no," replied the countess, "pray do not; I seem as if I should die, but death appears to be so sweet. Take off my hat, it feels so heavy, I cannot bear it."

Gidsa obeyed, and Gemma's long hair hung down in ringlets nearly to the ground.

"Do you feel like me, Gidsa," asked the countess, "an incomprehensible feeling of pleasure? A kind of heavenly sensation flows through my veins: I must have drank a charmed philter; help me to rise, and lead me to the mirror."

Gidsa supported the countess and led her towards the mantelpiece; when she reached it, she rested both elbows upon it, placed her head in her hands, and looked at her beautiful face in the glass.

"Now, let everything be taken away, then undress me, and leave me alone."

The attendant obeyed her mistress; the servants of the countess cleared the table, and when they had left, Gidsa performed the second part of her mistress's orders, who still remained before the glass, merely raising her arms languidly one after the other, to make it just possible for her maid to perform the necessary duties, which were in a short time accomplished – the countess still remaining in the species of ecstacy into which she was plunged; then, as her mistress had directed her, she went out and left her alone.

The countess completed the remainder of her toilet in a state resembling somnambulism; she retired to rest, and remained for an instant leaning on her elbow, with her eyes fixed on the door; then by degrees, and notwithstanding all her efforts to keep awake, her eyelids became heavy, her eyes closed, and she sank upon her pillow, heaving a long deep sigh, and murmuring Rodolpho's name.

The next morning, when she awoke, Gemma stretched out her hand as if she expected to find some one by her side; but she was alone, and for a few minutes her eyes wandered round the chamber, and then turned and fixed themselves on the table by the bedside. An open letter lay upon it, she took it up and read: —

"Madame la Comtesse, – I could have taken the vengeance of

a brigand upon you; I preferred to indulge myself in the

pleasure of a prince! but that, when you awake, you may not

imagine you have been in a dream, I have left you a proof of

the reality; look in your mirror.

"Pascal Bruno."

Gemma's whole frame shuddered, and a cold perspiration covered her forehead; she stretched out her arm towards the bell-rope that she might call for assistance, but womanly instinct arrested her arm, and collecting all her strength, she sprang out of bed, ran to the glass, and uttered a cry of horror. Her hair and eyebrows were completely shorn!

She hastily dressed herself, and enveloping her head in her veil, threw herself into her carriage, and ordered it to be driven back to Palermo.

The instant she arrived there, she wrote to Prince Carini, telling him that her confessor, as an expiation for her sins, had ordered her to shave off her eyebrows and hair, and retire for twelve months to a convent.

CHAPTER VIII. – TREACHERY

On the 1st of May, 1805, there was a high festival at Castel Nuovo: Pascal Bruno was in excellent humour, and gave a supper to one of his best friends, Placido Tomaselli, an honest dealer in contraband, belonging to the village of Gesso, and to two females the latter had brought with him from Messina. This delicate attention sensibly effected Bruno, and that he might not be behindhand in politeness with so provident a comrade, he determined to perform the honours of his domicile after the fashion of the best society. Accordingly, the finest wines of Sicily and Calabria were selected from the cellars of the fortress, the most noted cooks of Bauso were placed in requisition, and all that singular luxury was displayed to which at times it pleased the hero of our history to resort.

The guests had only just begun dinner when Ali brought Placido Tomaselli a letter, which a countryman from Gesso had placed in his hands. Placido read it, and crumbling it up in a violent passion, exclaimed —

"Upon my word he has chosen his time very nicely."

"What is it, comrade?" said Bruno.

"Perdition! why, a summons from Captain Luigi Cama, of Villa San Giovanni."

"What, our purveyor of rum?" asked Bruno.

"Yes," replied Placido; "he informs me he is off the shore, and has a full cargo which he wishes to dispose of before the custom-house officers hear of his arrival."

"Business before all things," replied Bruno. "I'll wait for you. I am in very good company, so make yourself easy; if you are not too long gone, you will find everything you leave, and more than you can take away."

"It is only an hour's work," replied Placido, appearing to yield to the reasoning of his host; "the beach is only about five hundred yards from this spot."

"And there is the whole night before us," observed Pascal.

"A good appetite, comrade," said Placido. "A successful expedition, master," said Bruno. Placido left the castle, and Bruno remained with the two women, and, as he had promised his guest, proceedings did not suffer by his absence. Bruno was amiable enough for any two, and the conversation began to assume the most animated character, when the door opened, and a new actor appeared on the scene. Pascal turned round and recognised the Maltese merchant we have already spoken of several times, of whom he was one of the best customers.

"By St. Gregory!" he exclaimed, "you are welcome; and the more so, if you have brought any of those Turkish pastilles, a packet of Latakia tobacco, and a few Tunisian shawls; by-the-by, your opium acted admirably."

"I am glad of it," replied the Maltese; "but on this occasion, I have come on quite another business."

"Ah! you have come to sup with me, is that it?" asked Bruno. "Pray sit down, sit down, and once again you are welcome; there, that is a seat fit for a king."

"Your wine is excellent, I know, and these ladies are charming," replied the Maltese; "but I have something very important to speak to you about."

"To me?" asked Bruno.

"Yes, to you," replied the Maltese.

"Well go on," said Bruno.

"I must speak to you alone," said the Maltese.

"Well, then," said Bruno, "I'll hear you tomorrow, my worthy captain."

"But I must inform you immediately," said the Maltese.

"Well, then, speak before the company," said Bruno; "we have not too many here, and I make it a rule when I feel comfortable never to disturb myself, even if my life were at stake."

"That is the very subject I wish to allude to," said the Maltese.

"Bah!" replied Bruno; "heaven looks after honest men; here's to your health, captain."

The Maltese emptied his glass.

"That's right; now sit down and let me hear your sermon, we'll listen to you with proper attention."

The merchant perceived he must give in to the whim of his host, and he consequently obeyed him.

"Well, now then, what is it?" said Bruno.

"First, then," continued the Maltese, "you know that the justices of Calvaruso, Spadafora, Bauso, Saponara, Divito, and Domita have been arrested."

"I have heard something about it," said Pascal Bruno, carelessly, at the same time emptying his glass of Marsala, the best wine in Sicily.

"But do you know the cause of their arrest?" inquired the merchant.

"I guess at it," said Bruno; "is it not because the Prince of Carini, being in an extremely ill-humour on account of his mistress having retired to a convent, has taken it into his head that they have been too slow, and have shown too little skill in their attempts to arrest a certain Pascal Bruno, whose head is worth two thousand ducats?"

"Exactly so," said the merchant.

"You see," said Bruno, "I am quite aware of what is going on."

"Yet, for all that," said the Maltese, "there may be some circumstances of which you are still ignorant."

"God is great! as Ali says," replied Bruno; "but go on, and I will acknowledge my ignorance; I wish for nothing so much as instruction."

"Well," said the Maltese, "the six judges have met together, and each has put down twenty-five ounces – that makes one hundred and fifty ounces."

"Or, in other words," replied Bruno, in the same careless tone, "eighteen hundred and ninety livres. You see, if my books are not well regulated, it is not for want of arithmetic. Well, what next?"

"After that," continued the merchant, "they offered this sum to two or three men, known as your common associates, if they would assist them in capturing you."

"Let them offer it," said Bruno; "I am quite certain they will not meet with a traitor within ten leagues."

"You deceive yourself," answered the Maltese; "the traitor is found."

"Ha!" exclaimed Bruno, knitting his brow and grasping his dagger; "and how do you know that?"

"Why, my good fellow," said the merchant, "in the simplest way in the world; yesterday I was at the house of the Prince de Goto, governor of Messina, who sent for me for the purpose of purchasing some Turkish goods, when a servant entered the room and whispered a few words in his ear. 'Very well,' said the prince, 'let him come in.' He then made a sign to me to go into an adjoining room for a short time; I obeyed, and as he never suspected that I was acquainted with you, I overheard a conversation that concerned you."

"Well," said Bruno.

"It was the traitor," said the Maltese; "he undertook to open the doors of your fortress, and to place you in their hands unarmed while you were at supper; and he himself engaged to conduct the gens-d'armes to your dining-room."

"And do you know who this man is?" demanded Bruno.

"Yes," said the merchant.

"His name?" said Bruno.

"Placido Tomaselli."

"Confusion!" exclaimed the bandit; "he was here but an instant ago."

"And has he left the castle?" inquired the merchant.

"Just before you came in," replied Bruno.

"Then," said the merchant, "he has gone after the police and the soldiers; for, as far as I can see, you were about to sit down to supper."

"You see I was," said Bruno.

"Then I am right; and if you wish to escape, you have not a minute to lose."

"I fly!" cried Bruno, laughing. "Ali! Ali!" and Ali entered the room.

"Close the gates of the castle, my lad, and turn three of my dogs loose in the court-yard, and send the fourth, Lionna, upstairs, and get the ammunition ready."

The women began to scream.

"My goddesses, you must be quiet," observed Bruno, with an imperative look; "we must have no singing here; silence, and instantly, if you please."

And the women were silent.

"Captain, you must keep these ladies company; for my part, I must go my rounds."

Bruno seized his carbine, buckled on his cartouche-box, and went towards the door; but as he was about to leave the room he stood still and listened.

"What is the matter?" said the Maltese.

"Do you not hear my dogs bark? The enemy is close at hand; they were not long behind you; – are they not fine beasts? Silence, my tigers!" continued Bruno, opening one of the windows and giving a peculiar whistle; "all right, all right, I am on my guard."

The dogs gave a low growl and were then silent.

The women and the Maltese trembled with terror, expecting something dreadful was about to happen, and at the same moment Ali entered the room with Pascal's favourite bitch, Lionna: the noble creature went straight up to her master, reared up on her hind legs, and placing her paws on his shoulders, she looked intelligently at him and gave a short bark.

"Yes, yes, Lionna, you are a fine beast," said Bruno, patting the dog fondly on the head; "come on, my beauty, come along."

And he went out, leaving the Maltese and the two women in the supper apartment.

Pascal went down into the court-yard, where he found the three dogs evincing great uneasiness, but without giving any indication that the danger was very pressing; he then opened the garden door and began to walk round its bounds. Suddenly Lionna stopped, snuffed the air, and walked straight up to one part of the enclosure: as soon as she reached the wall, she reared up on her hind legs, as if she intended to scale it, grinding her teeth, and uttering a low growl, at the same time looking back at her master: Pascal Bruno was close behind her.

He was at once aware that an enemy was concealed, and that at no great distance, and recollecting that the window of the room in which Paoli Tomassi had been confined directly overlooked this spot, he ran quickly up stairs, followed by Lionna, who with open throat and fiery eyes seemed to guess her master's intention; and crossing the room in which the two women and the Maltese were anxiously awaiting the end of the adventure, she went into an adjoining chamber, in which there was no light and the window was open. She had scarcely entered when, crouching quietly on the ground, she crawled like a serpent towards the window, and when within a few feet of the casement, before Bruno could prevent her, she sprang through the opening like a panther, and alighted on the ground without injury, although the height was at least twenty feet.

Pascal was at the window nearly as soon as the dog; he saw her make three bounds towards an olive-tree, and then heard a cry of agony: Lionna had seized a man by the throat, who was concealed behind the tree.

"Help! help!" exclaimed a voice, which Pascal recognised as that of Placido. "Help, it is I! Call off your dog, or she will tear me to pieces."

"Hold him, Lionna!" exclaimed Bruno, "kill him, my good dog! Death to the traitor!"

Placido at once saw that Bruno had discovered all, and uttering a cry of pain and rage, a mortal combat ensued between the dog and the man. Bruno, resting on his carbine, calmly contemplated this singular duel by the uncertain light of the moon. He could perceive two bodies, whose forms were indistinct, struggling, rolling on the ground, and rising again, and seeming as if they were but one: for the space of ten minutes he heard their confused cries, but could not distinguish those of the dog from the man. At the end of that time a dreadful cry was heard, and one of them fell to rise no more – it was the man.

Bruno whistled to Lionna, again crossed the supper-room, without uttering a word, and went rapidly down stairs to open the door to his favourite bitch; but at the very instant she entered, bleeding from wounds inflicted with a knife, and even from the bites of her antagonist, he saw the musket-barrels of soldiers glittering in the rays of the moon, and advancing up the road that led from the village to the fortress. He at once barricaded the door, and again entered the room in which he had left his trembling guests. The Maltese was drinking, and the women saying their prayers.

"Well!" said the Maltese.

"Well, captain?" answered Bruno.

"What has become of Placido Tomaselli?" asked the merchant.

"His business is settled," replied Bruno; "but there is another legion of devils coming upon us."

"And what do you mean next to do?" asked the merchant.

"Kill as many as I can in the first instance," said Bruno.

"And then?" inquired the merchant.

"Fire the fortress," said Bruno, coolly, "and then – blow myself up along with the rest."

The women hearing this began to scream most lustily.

"Ali," said Pascal, "take these ladies into the vaults, and give them all they ask for except a candle, for fear they should set fire to the powder before the proper time."

The poor terrified creatures fell on their knees.

"Come, make haste!" cried Bruno, stamping his feet; "do as I order you."

And he uttered these words with such a look and accent, that the two girls rose and followed Ali without daring to utter another word of complaint.

"And now, captain," said Bruno, as soon as they were gone, "put out the lights, and get into some corner where the bullets cannot reach you; for the musicians have arrived and the ball is about to begin."