It was broad daylight when we reached Bastia. The Public Prosecutor, the
colonel of the gendarmes, and the governor of the prison were
impatiently awaiting us. I never saw a man look more astonished than the
corporal in charge of the escort, as, with a triumphant smile, he led me
to these gentlemen, and saw them hurry towards me with all sorts of
apologies, and take off the handcuffs.
"What! Is it _you_?" exclaimed the Public Prosecutor. "Have these idiots
really arrested _you_? But how did it come about--what is the meaning of
it?"
[Illustration: "EXPLANATIONS."]
Explanations followed. On the previous day the Public Prosecutor had
received a telegram from Porto-Vecchio, informing him of the presence of
Quastana in the locality, and giving precise details as to where and
when he could be found. The name of Porto-Vecchio opened my eyes; it was
that travelling companion of mine who had played me this shabby trick!
He was the Prosecutor's deputy.
"But, my dear sir," said the Public Prosecutor, "whoever would have
expected to see you in shooting costume in the house of the brigand's
cousin! We have given you rather a bad time of it, but I know you will
not bear malice, and you will prove it by coming to breakfast with me."
Then turning to the corporal, and pointing to Matteo, he said: "Take
this fellow away; we will deal with him in the morning."
The unfortunate Matteo remained dumb with fright; he looked appealingly
at me, and I, of course, could not do otherwise than explain matters.
Taking the Prosecutor on one side, I told him that Matteo was really
assisting the Prefect to capture the brigand; but as I told him all
about the matter, his face assumed a hard, judicial expression.
"I am sorry for the Prefecture," he said; "but I have Quastana's cousin,
and I won't let him go! He will be tried with some peasants, who are
accused of having supplied the brigand with provisions."
"But I repeat that this man is really in the service of the Prefecture,"
I protested.
"So much the worse for the Prefecture," said he with a laugh. "I am
going to give the Administration a lesson it won't forget, and teach it
not to meddle with what doesn't concern it. There is only one brigand in
Corsica, and you want to take him! He's my game, I tell you. The Prefect
knows that, yet he tries to forestall me! Now I will pay him out. Matteo
shall be tried; he will, of course, appeal to your side; there will be a
great to-do, and the brigand will be put on his guard against his cousin
and gentlemen of the Prefecture who go shooting."
Well, he kept his word. We had to appear on behalf of Matteo, and we had
a nice time of it in the court. I was the laughing-stock of the place.
Matteo was acquitted, but he could no longer be of use to us, because
Quastana was forewarned. He had to quit the country.
As to Quastana, he was never caught. He knew the country, and every
peasant was secretly ready to assist him; and although the soldiers and
gendarmes tried their best to take him, they could not manage it. When I
left the island he was still at liberty, and I have never heard anything
about his capture since.
[Illustration]