Both brigands and captive suffered from thirst; which they were at length enabled to quench with the snow found upon the colder exposure of the ridges.
Just before sunset a halt was made, and one of the bandits was sent forward as a scout. A mountain summit, shaped like a truncated cone, was seen a short distance in front, and towards this the path appeared tending.
About twenty minutes after the scout had disappeared from view, the howl of a wolf came back from the direction in which he had gone, while another similar cry was heard still farther off. Following this, there was the bleating of a goat; on hearing which the brigands once more resumed their march.
Bounding an angle of rock, the face of the conical hill was seen from base to top, scarred by a deep ravine that led to its summit. Up this lay the path, until the highest point was reached; then a strange picture lay spread before the eye of the captive. He was looking down into a cup-like hollow, nearly circular in shape, with sloping sides, covered with a thin growth of timber, in places packed into groves. At the bottom there was a pond of water, and not far from its edge, through the trees, some patches of grey wall, with smoke rising above, declared the presence of human habitation. It was the rendezvous of the bandits, which they reached just before the going down of the sun.
Their home, then, was no cave, no mere lair, but something that more resembled a hamlet or village. Two or three of the houses were substantial structures of stone; the rest were simple pagliatti , or straw huts, such as are common in the remote mountain districts of the Italian peninsula. A forest of beech trees overshadowed the group, while the ridges around were covered with a thick growth of ilex and pine. A deep, dark tarn glistened in the centre, looking like some long-extinct crater, that acted as a reservoir for the rain and melted snow from the surrounding slope.
The stone houses could never have been built by the bandits. The straw cabins may have been erected to afford them additional accommodation; but the more substantial dwellings told of times long gone by, before the enervating influence of a despotic government had brought decay upon the territory of Italia. Some miner, perhaps, who extracted ore from the neighbouring mountains, had found here a convenient smelting-place in proximity to the tarn.
Around, the land sloped up into a circular ridge a sort of amphitheatre, with apparently two passes leading outward one to the north, the other to the south. By both of these passes was a peak that rose bald and herbless above the fringe of the forest, and on each of these, close to the extreme summit, could be seen the figure of a man, visible only from the valley below. They were the bandits pickets upon their post. Now and then, as they changed attitude, their accoutrements and carbine-barrels could be seen glancing in the golden sunset.
The young Englishman noted all this as he stood in the open piazza of the robber quarters. It recalled the song of the famed Fra Diavolo, and a night at Her Majestys Theatre his box shared by Belle Mainwaring.
He was not long allowed to indulge in such reminiscences at least in the open air. Acting under orders from the chief, two of his captors conducted him into a dark chamber in one of the stone houses; and, giving him a push that almost sent him face forward upon the floor, closed the door behind him.
There was the harsh grating of a bolt, and then all was silence. For the first time in his life, Henry Harding felt the sensation of being inside a prison!
Chapter Twenty Writing to Dictation
the key from out the lock, when he stretched himself along the floor and fell fast asleep. Some fern-leaves strewn over the stones served him for a couch, though he was too tired to care much for this.
He did not wake until sunlight, shooting in through the window, fell slanting upon his face. Then he rose to his feet, and took a survey of his chamber. A glance convinced him that he was inside the cell of a prison; for whatever may have been the original design of the room, its adaptability to this purpose was at once apparent. The window was high above the level of the floor, and so narrow that a cat could barely have passed through it. Besides, there was a strong bar set vertically into the sill, that rendered egress absolutely impossible. The door was alike forbidding; and ten minutes contemplation of the place told the prisoner there was no chance of escape save in the corruptibility of his gaolers.
To Henry Harding there was no hope of this, and he did not even think of it. He saw no alternative but to wait the development of events.
He was hungry, and would have eaten anything. He listened, in hopes of hearing a footstep the tread of a brigand bringing him his breakfast. He could hear a step; but it was that of the sentry outside his door. It came and went, and came and went again, but no sound of drawing bolt, or key turning in the lock. An hour was passed in this hungry uncertainty, and then the tread of the sentry became commingled with other footsteps. A short parley outside, the key was inserted, the bolt clicked back, and the door stood open.