STORY OF THE YOUNG ROBBER.
I was born in the little town of Frosinone,
which lies at the skirts of the
Abruzzi. My father had made a little
property in trade, and gave me some
education, as he intended me for the
church; but I had kept gay company too
much to relish the cowl, so I grew up a
loiterer about the place. I was a heedless
fellow, a little quarrelsome on occasion,
but good-humoured in the main; so
I made my way very well for a time,
until I fell in love. There lived in our
town a surveyor or landbailiff of the
prince, who had a young daughter, a
beautiful girl of sixteen: she was looked
upon as something better than the common
run of our townsfolk, and was kept
almost entirely at home. I saw her occasionally,
and became madly in love
with her—she looked so fresh and tender,
and so different from the sunburnt females
to whom I had been accustomed.
As my father kept me in money, I
always dressed well, and took all opportunities
of showing myself off to advantage
in the eyes of the little beauty. I
used to see her at church; and as I could
play a little upon the guitar, I gave a
tune sometimes under her window of an
evening; and I tried to have interviews
with her in her father's vineyard, not far
from the town, where she sometimes
walked. She was evidently pleased with
me, but she was young and shy; and her
father kept a strict eye upon her, and
took alarm at my attentions, for he had
a bad opinion of me, and looked for a
better match for his daughter. I became
furious at the difficulties thrown in my
way, having been accustomed always to
easy success among the women, being
considered one of the smartest young
fellows of the place.
Her father brought home a suitor for
her, a rich farmer, from a neighbouring
town. The wedding-day was appointed,
and preparations were making. I got
sight of her at her window, and I thought
she looked sadly at me. I determined
the match should not take place, cost
what it might. I met her intended bridegroom
in the market-place, and could not
restrain the expression of my rage. A
few hot words passed between us, when
I drew my stiletto and stabbed him to the
heart. I fled to a neighbouring church
for refuge, and with a little money I obtained
absolution, but I did not dare to
venture from my asylum.
At that time our captain was forming
his troop. He had known me from
boyhood; and, hearing of my situation,
came to me in secret, and made such
offers, that I agreed to enrol myself
among his followers. Indeed, I had more
than once thought of taking to this mode
of life, having known several brave fellows
of the mountains, who used to spend
their money freely among us youngsters
of the town. I accordingly left my
asylum late one night, repaired to the
appointed place of meeting, took the
oaths prescribed, and became one of
the troop. We were for some time in a
distant part of the mountains, and our
wild adventurous kind of life hit my
fancy wonderfully, and diverted my
thoughts. At length they returned with
all their violence to the recollection of
Rosetta: the solitude in which I often
found myself gave me time to brood over
her image; and, as I have kept watch
at night over our sleeping camp in
the mountains, my feelings have been
roused almost to a fever.
At length we shifted our ground, and
determined to make a descent upon the
road between Terracina and Naples. In
the course of our expedition we passed
a day or two in the woody mountains
which rise above Frosinone. I cannot
tell you how I felt when I looked down
upon the place, and distinguished the residence
of Rosetta. I determined to have
an interview with her;—but to what purpose?
I could not expect that she would
quit her home, and accompany me in
my hazardous life among the mountains.
She had been brought up too tenderly
for that; and when I looked upon the
women who were associated with some
of our troop, I could not have borne the
thoughts of her being their companion.
All return to my former life was likewise
hopeless, for a price was set upon my
head. Still I determined to see her; the
very hazard and fruitlessness of the thing
made me furious to accomplish it.
About three weeks since, I persuaded
our captain to draw down to the vicinity
of Frosinone, suggesting the chance of
entrapping some of its principal inhabitants,
and compelling them to a ransom.
We were in ambush towards evening,
not far from the vineyard of Rosetta's
father. I stole quietly from my companions,
and drew near to reconnoitre the
place of her frequent walks. How my
heart beat when among the vines I beheld
the gleaming of a white dress! I
knew it must be Rosetta's; it being rare
for any female of the place to dress in
white. I advanced secretly and without
noise, until, putting aside the vines, I
stood suddenly before her. She uttered
a piercing shriek, but I seized her in my
arms, put my hand upon her mouth, and
conjured her to be silent. I poured out
all the frenzy of my passion; offered to
renounce my mode of life; to put my
fate in her hands; to fly with her where
we might live in safety together. All
that I could say or do would not pacify
her. Instead of love, horror and affright
seemed to have taken possession of her
breast. She struggled partly from my
grasp, and filled the air with her cries.
In an instant the captain and the rest
of my companions were around us. I
would have given any thing at that moment
had she been safe out of our hands,
and in her father's house. It was too
late. The captain pronounced her a
prize, and ordered that she should be
borne to the mountains. I represented
to him that she was my prize; that I
had a previous claim to her; and I
mentioned my former attachment. He
sneered bitterly in reply; observed that
brigands had no business with village
intrigues, and that, according to the laws
of the troop, all spoils of the kind were
determined by lot. Love and jealousy
were raging in my heart, but I had to
choose between obedience and death. I
surrendered her to the captain, and we
made for the mountains.
She was overcome by affright, and
her steps were so feeble and faltering
that it was necessary to support her. I
could not endure the idea that my comrades
should touch her, and assuming a
forced tranquillity, begged that she might
be confided to me, as one to whom she
was more accustomed. The captain regarded
me, for a moment, with a searching
look, but I bore it without flinching,
and he consented. I took her in my
arms; she was almost senseless. Her
head rested on my shoulder; I felt her
breath on my face, and it seemed to fan
the flame which devoured. Oh God! to
have this glowing treasure in my arms,
and yet to think it was not mine!
We arrived at the foot of the mountain.
I ascended it with difficulty, particularly
where the woods were thick,
but I would not relinquish my delicious
burthen. I reflected with rage, however,
that I must soon do so. The thoughts
that so delicate a creature must be abandoned
to my rude companions maddened
me. I felt tempted, the stiletto in my
hand, to cut my way through them all,
and bear her off in triumph. I scarcely
conceived the idea before I saw its rashness;
but my brain was fevered with the
thought that any but myself should enjoy
her charms. I endeavoured to outstrip
my companions by the quickness of my
movements, and to get a little distance
ahead, in case any favourable opportunity
of escape should present. Vain
effort! The voice of the captain suddenly
ordered a halt. I trembled, but
had to obey. The poor girl partly opened
a languid eye, but was without strength
or motion. I laid her upon the grass.
The captain darted on me a terrible look
of suspicion, and ordered me to scour
the woods with my companions in search
of some shepherd, who might be sent to
her father's to demand a ransom.
I saw at once the peril. To resist
with violence was certain death—but to
leave her alone, in the power of the captain!
I spoke out then with a fervour
inspired by my passion and my despair.
I reminded the captain that I was the
first to seize her; that she was my prize;
and that my previous attachment to her
ought to make her sacred among my
companions. I insisted, therefore, that
he should pledge me his word to respect
her, otherwise I should refuse obedience
to his orders. His only reply was to
cock his carbine, and at the signal my
comrades did the same. They laughed
with cruelty at my impotent rage. What
could I do? I felt the madness of resistance.
I was menaced on all hands,
and my companions obliged me to follow
them. She remained alone with the
chief—yes, alone—and almost lifeless!—
Here the robber paused in his recital,
overpowered by his emotions. Great
drops of sweat stood on his forehead;
he panted rather than breathed; his
brawny bosom rose and fell like the
waves of a troubled sea. When he had
become a little calm, he continued his
recital.
I was not long in finding a shepherd,
said he. I ran with the rapidity of a
deer, eager, if possible, to get back before
what I dreaded might take place. I had
left my companions far behind, and I rejoined
them before they had reached one
half the distance I had made. I hurried
them back to the place where we had
left the captain. As we approached, I
beheld him seated by the side of Rosetta.
His triumphant look, and the desolate
condition of the unfortunate girl, left me
no doubt of her fate. I know not how I
restrained my fury.
It was with extreme difficulty, and by
guiding her hand, that she was made to
trace a few characters, requesting her
father to send three hundred dollars as
her ransom. The letter was despatched
by the shepherd. When he was gone,
the chief turned sternly to me. "You
have set an example," said he, "of mutiny
and self-will, which, if indulged,
would be ruinous to the troop. Had I
treated you as our laws require, this
bullet would have been driven through
your brain. But you are an old friend;
I have borne patiently with your fury
and your folly. I have even protected
you from a foolish passion that would
have unmanned you. As to this girl,
the laws of our association must have
their course." So saying, he gave his
commands: lots were drawn, and the
helpless girl was abandoned to the troop.
Here the robber paused again, panting
with fury, and it was some moments
before he could resume his story.
Hell, said he, was raging in my heart.
I beheld the impossibility of avenging
myself; and I felt that, according to the
articles in which we stood bound to one
another, the captain was in the right. I
rushed with frenzy from the place; I
threw myself upon the earth; tore up
the grass with my hands; and beat my
head and gnashed my teeth in agony and
rage. When at length I returned, I
beheld the wretched victim, pale, dishevelled,
her dress torn and disordered.
An emotion of pity, for a moment, subdued
my fiercer feelings. I bore her to
the foot of a tree, and leaned her gently
against it. I took my gourd, which was
filled with wine, applying it to her lips,
endeavoured to make her swallow a
little. To what a condition was she reduced!
she, whom I had once seen the
pride of Frosinone; who but a short
time before I had beheld sporting in her
father's vineyard, so fresh, and beautiful,
and happy! Her teeth were clenched;
her eyes fixed on the ground; her form
without motion, and in a state of absolute
insensibility. I hung over her in an
agony of recollection at all that she had
been, and of anguish at what I now beheld
her. I darted round a look of horror
at my companions, who seemed like
so many fiends exulting in the downfall
of an angel; and I felt a horror at myself
for being their accomplice.
The captain, always suspicious, saw,
with his usual penetration, what was
passing within me, and ordered me to
go upon the ridge of the woods, to keep
a look-out over the neighbourhood, and
await the return of the shepherd. I
obeyed, of course, stifling the fury that
raged within me, though I felt, for the
moment, that he was my most deadly foe.
On my way, however, a ray of reflection
came across my mind. I perceived
that the captain was but following, with
strictness, the terrible laws to which we
had sworn fidelity. That the passion by
which I had been blinded might, with
justice, have been fatal to me, but for his
forbearance; that he had penetrated my
soul, and had taken precautions, by sending
me out of the way, to prevent my
committing any excess in my anger.
From that instant I felt that I was capable
of pardoning him.
Occupied with these thoughts, I arrived
at the foot of the mountain. The
country was solitary and secure, and in
a short time I beheld the shepherd at a
distance crossing the plain. I hastened
to meet him. He had obtained nothing.
He had found the father plunged in the
deepest distress. He had read the letter
with violent emotion, and then, calming
himself with a sudden exertion, he replied,
coldly: "My daughter has been
dishonoured by those wretches; let her be
returned without ransom, or let her die!"
I shuddered at this reply. I knew
that, according to the laws of our troop,
her death was inevitable. Our oaths
required it. I felt, nevertheless, that not
having been able to have her to myself, I
could become her executioner!
The robber again paused with agitation.
I sat musing upon his last frightful
words which proved to what excess
the passions may be carried, when
escaped from all moral restraint. There
was a horrible verity in this story that
reminded me of some of the tragic fictions
of Dante.
We now come to a fatal moment, resumed
the bandit. After the report of
the shepherd, I returned with him, and
the chieftain received from his lips the
refusal of the father. At a signal which
we all understood, we followed him to
some distance from the victim. He there
pronounced her sentence of death. Every
one stood ready to execute his order, but
I interfered. I observed that there was
something due to pity as well as to
justice. That I was as ready as any
one to approve the implacable law, which
was to serve as a warning to all those
who hesitated to pay the ransoms demanded
for our prisoners; but that
though the sacrifice was proper, it ought
to be made without cruelty. "The night
is approaching," continued I; "she will
soon be wrapped in sleep; let her then
be despatched. All I now claim on the
score of former fondness for her is, let
me strike the blow. I will do it as surely,
but more tenderly than another." Several
raised their voices against my proposition,
but the captain imposed silence on
them. He told me I might conduct her
into a thicket at some distance, and he
relied upon my promise.
I hastened to seize upon my prey.
There was a forlorn kind of triumph at
having at length become her exclusive
possessor. I bore her off into the thickness
of the forest. She remained in the
same state of insensibility or stupor. I
was thankful that she did not recollect
me, for had she once murmured my
name, I should have been overcome.
She slept at length in the arms of him
who was to poniard her. Many were
the conflicts I underwent before I could
bring myself to strike the blow. But my
heart had become sore by the recent
conflicts it had undergone, and I dreaded
lest, by procrastination, some other
should become her executioner. When
her repose had continued for some time,
I separated myself gently from her, that
I might not disturb her sleep, and seizing
suddenly my poniard, plunged it into her
bosom. A painful and concentrated murmur,
but without any convulsive movement,
accompanied her last sigh. So
perished this unfortunate!
He ceased to speak. I sat, horror-struck,
covering my face with my hands,
seeking, as it were, to hide from myself
the frightful images he had presented to
my mind. I was roused from this silence
by the voice of the captain: "You sleep,"
said he, "and it is time to be off. Come,
we must abandon this height, as night is
setting in, and the messenger is not returned.
I will post some one on the
mountain-edge to conduct him to the
place where we shall pass the night."
This was no agreeable news to me.
I was sick at heart with the dismal story
I had heard. I was harassed and fatigued,
and the sight of the banditti began
to grow insupportable to me.
The captain assembled his comrades.
We rapidly descended the forest, which
we had mounted with so much difficulty
in the morning, and soon arrived in what
appeared to be a frequented road. The
robbers proceeded with great caution,
carrying their guns cocked, and looking
on every side with wary and suspicious
eyes. They were apprehensive of encountering
the civic patrole. We left
Rocca Priori behind us. There was a
fountain near by, and as I was excessively
thirsty, I begged permission to
stop and drink. The captain himself
went and brought me water in his hat.
We pursued our route, when, at the extremity
of an alley which crossed the
road, I perceived a female on horseback,
dressed in white. She was alone. I
recollected the fate of the poor girl in
the story, and trembled for her safety.
One of the brigands saw her at the
same instant, and plunging into the
bushes, he ran precipitately in the direction
towards her. Stopping on the
border of the alley, he put one knee to
the ground, presented his carbine ready
to menace her, or to shoot her horse if
she attempted to fly, and in this way
awaited her approach. I kept my eyes
fixed on her with intense anxiety. I felt
tempted to shout and warn her of her
danger, though my own destruction
would have been the consequence. It
was awful to see this tiger crouching
ready for a bound, and the poor innocent
victim wandering unconsciously near
him. Nothing but a mere chance could
save her. To my joy the chance turned
in her favour. She seemed almost accidentally
to take an opposite path, which
led outside of the wood, where the robber
dared not venture. To this casual deviation
she owed her safety.
I could not imagine why the captain
of the band had ventured to such a distance
from the height on which he had
placed the sentinel to watch the return
of the messenger. He seemed himself
anxious at the risk to which he exposed
himself. His movements were rapid and
uneasy; I could scarce keep pace with
him. At length, after three hours of
what might be termed a forced march,
we mounted the extremity of the same
woods, the summit of which we had
occupied during the day; and I learnt
with satisfaction that we had reached our
quarters for the night. "You must be
fatigued," said the chieftain; "but it was
necessary to survey the environs, so as
not to be surprised during the night.
Had we met with the famous civic guard
of Rocca Priori, you would have seen
fine sport." Such was the indefatigable
precaution and forethought of this robber
chief, who really gave continual evidence
of military talent.
The night was magnificent. The
moon, rising above the horizon in a
cloudless sky, faintly lit up the grand
features of the mountain; while lights
twinkling here and there, like terrestrial
stars, in the wide dusky expanse of the
landscape, betrayed the lonely cabins of
the shepherds. Exhausted by fatigue,
and by the many agitations I had experienced,
I prepared to sleep, soothed by
the hope of approaching deliverance.
The captain ordered his companions to
collect some dry moss; he arranged
with his own hands a kind of mattress
and pillow of it, and gave me his ample
mantle as a covering. I could not but
feel both surprised and gratified by such
unexpected attentions on the part of this
benevolent cut-throat; for there is nothing
more striking than to find the ordinary
charities, which are matters of
course in common life, flourishing by the
side of such stern and sterile crime. It is
like finding the tender flowers and fresh
herbage of the valley growing among
the rocks and cinders of the volcano.
Before I fell asleep I had some further
discourse with the captain, who seemed
to feel great confidence in me. He referred
to our previous conversation of
the morning; told me he was weary of
his hazardous profession; that he had
acquired sufficient property, and was
anxious to return to the world, and lead
a peaceful life in the bosom of his family.
He wished to know whether it was not
in my power to procure for him a passport
to the United States of America. I
applauded his good intentions, and promised
to do every thing in my power to
promote its success. We then parted for
the night. I stretched myself upon my
couch of moss, which, after my fatigues,
felt like a bed of down; and, sheltered
by the robber-mantle from all humidity,
I slept soundly, without waking, until the
signal to arise.
It was nearly six o'clock, and the day
was just dawning. As the place where
we had passed the night was too much
exposed, we moved up into the thickness
of the woods. A fire was kindled. While
there was any flame, the mantles were
again extended round it; but when nothing
remained but glowing cinders, they
were lowered, and the robbers seated
themselves in a circle.
The scene before me reminded me of
some of those described by Homer.
There wanted only the victim on the
coals, and the sacred knife to cut off
the succulent parts, and distribute them
around. My companions might have
rivalled the grim warriors of Greece.
In place of the noble repasts, however,
of Achilles and Agamemnon, I beheld
displayed on the grass the remains of the
ham which had sustained so vigorous an
attack on the preceding evening, accompanied
by the relics of the bread, cheese,
and wine. We had scarcely commenced
our frugal breakfast, when I heard again
an imitation of the bleating of sheep,
similar to what I had heard the day
before. The captain answered it in the
same tone. Two men were soon after
seen descending from the woody height,
where we had passed the preceding evening.
On nearer approach, they proved
to be the sentinel and the messenger.
The captain rose, and went to meet
them. He made a signal for his comrades
to join him. They had a short
conference, and then returning to me
with eagerness, "Your ransom is paid,"
said he; "you are free!"
Though I had anticipated deliverance,
I cannot tell you what a rush of delight
these tidings gave me. I cared not to
finish my repast, but prepared to depart.
The captain took me by the hand, requested
permission to write to me, and
begged me not to forget the passport. I
replied, that I hoped to be of effectual
service to him, and that I relied on his
honour to return the prince's note for
five hundred dollars, now that the cash
was paid. He regarded me for a moment
with surprise, then seeming to recollect
himself, "E giusto," said he,
"eccolo—addio!"[3]
He delivered me the
note, pressed my hand once more, and
we separated. The labourers were permitted
to follow me, and we resumed
with joy our road toward Tuseulum.
The Frenchman ceased to speak. The
party continued, for a few moments, to
pace the shore in silence. The story
had made a deep impression, particularly
on the Venitian lady. At that part which
related to the young girl of Frosinone,
she was violently affected. Sobs broke
from her; she clung closer to her husband,
and as she looked up to him as for
protection, the moonbeams shining on
her beautifully fair countenance, showed
it paler than usual, while tears glittered
in her fine dark eyes.
"Coraggio, mia vita!" said he, as he
gently and fondly tapped the white hand
that lay upon his arm.
The party now returned to the inn,
and separated for the night. The fair
Venitian, though of the sweetest temperament,
was half out of humour with the
Englishman, for a certain slowness of
faith which he had evinced throughout
the whole evening. She could not understand
this dislike to "humbug," as he
termed it, which held a kind of sway
over him, and seemed to control his
opinions and his very actions.
"I'll warrant," said she to her husband,
as they retired for the night, "I'll
warrant, with all his affected indifference,
this Englishman's heart would quake at
the very sight of a bandit."
Her husband gently, and good-humouredly,
checked her.
"I have no patience with these Englishmen,"
said she, as she got into bed—
"they are so cold and insensible!"
