"Your Excellency was not, perhaps, prepared for the hearty welcome we
have given you."

"Why, in truth, I OUGHT to have been prepared for it, since the signor,
to whose house I am bound, did not disguise from me the character of the
neighbourhood. And your name, my friend, if I may so call you?"

"Oh, no ceremonies with me, Excellency. In the village I am generally
called Maestro Paolo. I had a surname once, though a very equivocal one;
and I have forgotten THAT since I retired from the world."

"And was it from disgust, from poverty, or from some--some ebullition
of passion which entailed punishment, that you betook yourself to the
mountains?"

"Why, signor," said the bravo, with a gay laugh, "hermits of my class
seldom love the confessional. However, I have no secrets while my step
is in these defiles, my whistle in my pouch, and my carbine at my back."
With that the robber, as if he loved permission to talk at his
will, hemmed thrice, and began with much humour; though, as his tale
proceeded, the memories it roused seemed to carry him farther than he
at first intended, and reckless and light-hearted ease gave way to
that fierce and varied play of countenance and passion of gesture which
characterise the emotions of his countrymen.

"I was born at Terracina,--a fair spot, is it not? My father was a
learned monk of high birth; my mother--Heaven rest her!--an innkeeper's
pretty daughter. Of course there could be no marriage in the case;
and when I was born, the monk gravely declared my appearance to be