blow given to Doggy Dick would be looked upon as an insult to the whole band, and little as that English renegade might be esteemed by his Italian comrades, he would still have sufficient influence to instigate them to hostility against their captive. This was the cause to which Henry Harding ascribed the altered treatment he was receiving, and he now regretted having given it.
Could he have guessed the true reason he might have spared himself all self-recrimination. The prolonged imprisonment before him and such in reality there was had for motive a scheme far deeper than the hostility of Doggy Dick either on account of the conflict that had occurred between them, or that of older and earlier date. It was a scheme likely for a long time not only to keep the captive from being restored to liberty, but that might deprive him of his life.
Though apprehensive of receiving some severe castigation at the hands of the brigands, he still did not believe himself to be in any great danger; and he was hindered from sleeping less by the prospect of punishment, than the pain caused by the cords too tightly drawn around his limbs. Despite this, despite his hard couch, which was the stone pavement of the street, he at length fell asleep; and slept on till the crowing of the village cocks, aided by a kick from one of the brigand sentries, aroused him once more to a consciousness of his uncomfortable situation.
Chapter Nineteen On the March
feintSomething of the kind was just then reported upon the tapis . He who had gone to rifle the chest of the poor artist had brought back word of it. Hence their quick decampment.
When the villagers made their appearance upon the street, they could congratulate one another on a happy riddance of their ruffian guests; though there were some among them to whom this would be no satisfaction the keepers of the wine-shops for example. To them robbers gold was as good as any other.
The band proceeded through the hills, evidently making homeward. They were already laden with booty, captured before they had fallen in with the artist. It was, in fact, the report of this foray that was tempting the troops to pursue them.
They had no prisoners only plunder, in the shape of plate, jewellery, trinkets, and other light personal effects. The villa di campagna of some old Roman noble had been the scene of their late raid, and they were carrying the spoils to their den.
That this was in some secluded part of the country was evident from the road taken to reach it. Now it was a rough causeway traversing a ridge; anon a mere scorzo , or cattle-track, zigzagging through the hills, or following the bed of a rivulet.
Long before reaching the end of their journey, the captive was fatigued and footsore. His shoes, none of the strongest, had yielded to the abrasion of the sharp stones; while the long tramp of the preceding day, with a half sleepless night on the street pavement, to say nothing of the beating the brutes had given him, had but ill prepared him for such an irksome march. His hands, too, were tied behind his back; and this, spoiling his balance, made progress still more difficult and disagreeable. The terrible depression of his spirits also detracted from his strength.
He had good reason for being dispirited. The rigorous watch, kept upon him all along the route, told him that he was not going to be easily let off. Already the brigands had broken faith with him; for he knew that the courier had come back, and of course brought back the scudi along with him.
Once only had he an opportunity of talking to the chief, just before starting away from the village. He reminded him of his promise.
You have released me, cried the ruffian, with a savage oath.
In what way? innocently asked the young Englishman.
Hola ! how simple you are, Signor Inglese ! You forget the blow you gave to one of my band.
The renegade deserved it.
I shall be judge of that. By our laws your life is forfeit. With us it is blow for blow.
In that case I should be absolved. Your fellows gave me twenty for one good measure, as I can tell by my aching ribs.
Bah!
contemptuously rejoined the bandit, be satisfied that it is no worse with you. Thank the Virgin youre still alive; or perhaps you may come nearer the mark by thanking that scar upon your little finger.
The look with which these last words were accompanied spoke of some secret meaning. The captive could not tell what it was; but it gave him food for reflection that lasted him for some time after. Taken in connection with the close watch kept upon him, he could forbode no good from it. On the contrary, there was evil in the innuendo, though of what sort it was beyond his intelligence to discover.
On the second day from their leaving the town, the march continued on through a mountainous country, most of it covered with forest. The track was rougher and more difficult to travel at times ascending slopes almost precipitous, at others winding through clefts of rock so narrow as only to admit the passage of one at a time.