groups talking excitedly of what had occurred, and scattered here and there, returning to their homes and occupations—­ and more swiftly than one could have imagined possible, the great square was left almost empty.  I paced up and down for awhile thinking deeply; I had before my mind’s eye the picture of the slight fair Teresa as described by the Sicilian captain, lying dead in the solitudes of the Montemaggiore with that self-inflicted wound in her breast which had set her free of all men’s love and persecution.  There were some women then who preferred death to infidelity?  Strange! very strange! common women of course they must be—­such as this brigand’s mistress; your daintily fed, silk-robed duchess would find a dagger somewhat a vulgar consoler—­she would rather choose a lover, or better still a score of lovers.  It is only brute ignorance that selects a grave instead of dishonor—­modern education instructs us more wisely, and teaches us not to be over-squeamish about such a trifle as breaking a given word or promise.  Blessed age of progress!  Age of steady advancement when the apple of vice is so cunningly disguised and so prettily painted that we can actually set it on a porcelain dish and hand it about among our friends as a valuable and choice fruit of virtue—­and no one finds out the fraud we are practicing, nay, we scarcely perceive it ourselves, it is such an excellent counterfeit!

As I walked to and fro, I found myself continually passing the head office of the Carabinieri, and, acting on a sudden impulse of curiosity, I at last entered the building, determined to ask for a few particulars concerning the brigand’s capture.  I was received by a handsome and intelligent-looking man, who glanced at the card with which I presented myself, and saluted me with courteous affability.

“Oh, yes!” he said, in answer to my inquiries, “Neri has given us a great deal of trouble.  But we had our suspicions that he had left Gaeta, where he was for a time in hiding.  A few stray bits of information gleaned here and there put us on the right track.”

“Was he caught easily, or did he show fight?”

“He gave himself up like a lamb, signor!  It happened in this way.  One of our men followed the woman who lived with Neri, one Teresa, and traced her up to a certain point, the corner of a narrow mountain pass—­where she disappeared.  He reported this, and thereupon we sent out an armed party.  These crept at midnight two by two, till they were formed in a close ring round the place where Neri was judged to be.  With the first beam of morning they rushed in upon him and took him prisoner.  It appears that he showed no surprise—­he merely said, ‘I expected you!’ He was found sitting by the dead body of his mistress; she was stabbed and newly bleeding.  No doubt he killed her, though he swears the contrary—­lies are as easy to him as breathing.”

“But where were his comrades?  I thought he commanded a large band?”