The Lurking-place of the Brigands.--The captive Boy.--The hideous
Household.--The horrible old Hag.--The slattern Woman.--The dirty
Children.--The old Crone and the evil Eye.--Despondency of Bob.--Is
Escape Possible?--Night.-Imprisoned.--The Bed of Straw.--Outlook
into the Night from the Prison Windows.
A brigand!
Such was the appalling thought that came to the mind of Bob, as
the Italian advanced towards, him. As he came closer, his face
became more distinctly revealed. It was not a face which reassured
him. Heavy, shaggy black eyebrows, from beneath which gleamed black
and fiery eyes, a skin browned by the hot, Italian sun, and white
teeth, that glistened from behind a vast matted mass of tangled
beard and moustache,--such was the face that appeared. It seemed
an evil and sinister face--a face that revealed a cruel and
treacherous soul. No wonder that Bob's heart sank within him as he
saw himself confronted by one like this.
The Italian stood looking at him with sharp and close scrutiny.
Then he said something.
Bob could not understand him, and tried to explain by signs that
he had lost his way, and that the donkey had run away with him. He
also pointed to himself, and said, "Americano," and waved his hand
in the direction of the road up which he had come, and said,
"Salerno." This was very well for Bob, especially when his anxiety
of mind is taken into account, and his signs seemed intelligible
to the Italian. He looked at Bob carefully, and finally seemed to
make out an explanation of his appearance, which satisfied him,
after which he motioned to him to follow, and walked back towards
the bridge. Bob's first impulse was to rush away, and run as fast
as his legs could carry him; but the thought of the Italian's gun
checked the impulse, and he followed.
Meanwhile, the other brigand, who had caught the ass, stood stroking
it and examining it. The animal seemed perfectly quiet and docile;
altogether a changed animal, different far from that wild beast
that had torn Bob away from all his friends, and thrown him here
among these dread associates. This other man had very much the same
general appearance as the first one. His beard was reddish, and
his eyes were smaller, the general expression of his face was more
sinister, as Bob thought, and though he had no gun, yet he seemed
none the less formidable.
The two men stood talking together for some time. One of them seemed
to be narrating to the other Bob's account of himself, as he had
understood it from the signs that had been made. After this they
seemed to be discussing the subject of Bob and the ass, for they
looked at him and at the animal from time to time during their
conversation. At length they seemed to have made up their minds
about the subject, for they stopped talking; and motioning Bob to
follow, they walked away, leading the ass with them.
Again a strong impulse rose in Bob's mind to fly; but again
the dread of being shot at prevented him. He therefore followed
as before.
There was in this place a circular sweep of hills enclosing a
valley, through which the brook ran. Crossing this by a bridge,
the road wound along a gentle declivity, and not very far away were
one or two houses. One of these was two stories high, much
dilapidated, and looked as though it might once have been a wind-mill,
or something of that sort. It stood on the edge of the torrent,
and the door-way was towards the road. The other buildings seemed
to be barns of some sort, or sheep-folds. The grassy declivity
spread away till it reached a steeper ascent, and here there began
a forest which covered the mountain-sides.
Towards this old mill Bob was led by his captors. As he drew near
he saw some dirty children at play, in front of the door-way. Soon
an old woman came out, followed by another, who was younger. The
old woman was a hideous old crone. Her hair was a matted gray mass,
her teeth were gone, and her face was pinched, and so seamed with
wrinkles, that she looked as though she might be over a hundred
years old. The other woman was very dirty and slatternly. She had
a dirty baby in her arms; her hair was in disorder, her face was
greasy and smouched, and a filthy cloth, which might once have been
white, was on her head. The women and children were all barefoot.
As Bob approached, they all stared at him with the most intense
curiosity; the two women stood still and stared; the children
stopped their play and stared; and there was something in the glow
and glitter of all these fiery, black, Italian eyes which seemed
horrible to poor Bob, and made his flesh fairly creep.
The men then began to talk to the women, evidently explaining
about Bob and the ass; and as they talked the eyes of all of them
were most of the time fixed upon these two. As for the children,
they glared for a time with very evil looking faces at Bob; but
at length the ass seemed to offer superior attractions to them,
for they made a rush at it, climbed on its back, pulled at its
ears and tail, and tormented it in various ways. Strange to say,
this animal, that had punished poor Bob's little trick so fearfully,
showed no resentment whatever at his present treatment, but stood
there, no longer the fiery wild ass, but the very living image
of a patient donkey.
Bob stood there looking upon the scene with his heart sinking within
him, yet by no means despairing. He had too high a spirit and too
stout a heart to give up so soon; and as he stood there, in the
power of this evil company, he turned over in his mind a hundred
different modes of escape. If he could once effect his escape from
these people, he might easily go back by the mountain path. But
how could he escape? That was the difficulty. Thus far, to his
amazement, they had not inflicted any cruelty upon him, nor had
they tied his hands; but that was, no doubt, owing to their contempt
for him, and their conviction that he would not venture to fly.
All that Bob had ever heard about the manners and customs of Italian
brigands now came to his mind--how they detain their prisoners
subject to a ransom, treating them well enough until the ransom
comes, but if it fails, then inflicting upon them the most horrible
cruelties. To Bob it now seemed certain that they intended to hold
him for ransom, and that they would treat him well till he should
be freed. As he felt certain about obtaining his ransom, he began
to feel less anxious, and his bold and enterprising spirit began
to conceive various ways by which he might baffle the brigands.
At length one of the men went off, and the younger of the women
went into the house. The brigand with the gun remained, and talked
for a little while with the old woman. It was evident to Bob, by
the glances which they threw at him, that he was the subject of
their conversation. To him the old woman was by far the most
obnoxious of the whole crowd. The slatternly woman, the dirty,
impish children, the brigands,--all these were bad enough; but the
old woman was far worse to his imagination. There was in her watery
eyes, in the innumerable wrinkles of her leathery skin, in her
toothless jaws, something so uncanny that he almost shuddered. She
reminded him of some of those witches of whom he had read, who, in
former and more superstitious ages, were supposed to have dealings
with the evil one, and whose looks certainly sustained such a
supposition. To Bob, at that time, it seemed that if ever any one
did in reality have dealings with the evil one, that one was the
old hag behind him. To him she seemed a witch; he thought of her
as a witch; and if she had at that time put on a peaked hat,
straddled a broomstick, and flown off through the air, it would
scarcely have surprised him.
At length the brigand went off, and the old woman came up to Bob.
At her approach Bob involuntarily shrank back a step or two. The
old hag fixed her small, watery eyes on him, mumbled with her
toothless jaws, and after a few efforts croaked out something in
Italian, followed by some gestures with her hands, which Bob
understood to convey a general assurance of safety. For this he
was prepared, since his mind was now fixed upon the idea that he
would be kept for a ransom. Then the old woman came nearer, and
put one of her thin, bony, shrivelled hands on his shoulder. The
touch was like the touch of a skeleton, and suggested horrible
thoughts to poor Bob. A thrill of disgust and terror shot through
him; but he stood it, for he did not like to show his disgust, for
fear of offending his hideous companion. The old woman, then standing
before him with her hand on his shoulder, looked at him for a long
time in silence. Bob looked back at her, and it seemed to him that
he had never seen in all his life, such a hideous face. The wrinkles
were now more plainly visible, the jaws seemed to be more retreating,
the cheeks were sunken, the cheek-bones projecting, the eyes, small
and weak, showed tears that slowly trickled down.
Suddenly the old hag gave a low groan, which Bob attributed to some
pain or other, and turned away. He noticed that she was trembling,
and thought it was the weakness of her extreme old age. He was
puzzled by these movements of hers, and felt sure that they meant
no good. After a few minutes she, turned again, and beckoned to
him to follow. She led the way into the house. On reaching the
door Bob hesitated, and stood without looking in. He saw a large
apartment occupying all the lower story of the old mill, with some
rude seats and rough beds. A long ladder led up to the upper story.
The old woman beckoned for him to come in, and Bob did not like to
refuse. So he went in. She then brought forth some cold mutton and
black bread, which she offered him. Bob was ravenously hungry; but
at that moment an idea came to him--a suspicion that was created
by the very sinister aspect and very singular behavior of the old
crone. The suspicion was, that it was drugged or poisoned. This
suspicion was not at all in accordance with the idea that they were
keeping him for a ransom, but it was an irrepressible one, and
though hungry, he did not dare to eat. So he shook his head. Upon
this the old hag took the things away, and Bob went out again.
The dirty children had been playing with the donkey all this
time, and still kept up their sport but in the midst of their
sport they still had curiosity enough to keep their eyes from
time to time upon the strange boy who had come thus suddenly into
their midst. The furtive, sinister glances of their wicked black
eyes had something uncanny in them, which made Bob feel more
uncomfortable than ever. He took a seat upon a stone in front of
the house, on one side of the door-way, and looked all around.
The mountains arose there, rising first gently in an easy acclivity,
and then sweeping up with a greater incline. Their sides, and
even their summits, were here all covered with forests. On the
left he could see the bridge over which the road passed--the road
that led to safety. Could he but escape for a few moments from
the eyes of his jailers, he might be saved. And why not? Two
women, and some dirty children--why should he care for such guards
as these? One rush, one leap, and he would be free. Willingly
would he walk all the way to Salerno. Anything would be welcome
after such a captivity as this.
But Bob was doomed to disappointment; for just as he had made up
his mind to fly, just as he was looking all around to see if the
coast was clear, he saw, to his deep distress, the two brigands
approaching from the outhouse. They were carrying something which,
on nearer approach, turned out to be a sheep, which they had just
killed. Of course all thoughts of flight now departed, and Bob
could only deplore his own stupidity in allowing that one chance
of escape to pass away.
After this they began to boil portions of the sheep in a pot; and
soon the savory odor of a stew filled the room, and came to Bob's
nostrils. As he was half starving, the delicious odor excited the
utmost longing to taste it, and he at once began to feel rather
satisfied that he had not fled. He felt that a flight after dinner
would be far better. In due time the dinner was ready. It was a
stew,--mutton, with vegetables, cooked deliciously,--and Bob's
hunger was so great that if it had been worse cooked it would have
been a banquet. He had no fears of poison, no suspicions of drugging,
for the whole family prepared to partake' of the repast--the two
brigands, the old hag, the slatternly woman, and the dirty children.
The stew was poured out into a huge wooden platter; they used no
plates, but dipped with their fingers. The sight awakened a little
disgust in Bob, but he was too hungry to be squeamish, and he
succeeded in picking out various morsels which had not been touched
by the dirty hands of his companions.
During the repast Bob noticed that they all kept looking, from time
to time, at him, and their furtive glances met his eyes whenever
he turned them. The old woman sometimes seemed to devour him with
a greedy, hungry sort of gaze, that was very horrible. It was an
ogrish look, and Bob's appetite was somewhat checked by the horror
that he found in her eyes, and he was unable to have that free play
with the repast which he might otherwise have had.
After the repast Bob once more went outside, hoping now to have
the opportunity which he had missed before. The dirty children went
outside too. The two brigands followed, and occupied themselves
with various employments. Escape from such surroundings as these
was impossible. At length one of the brigands mounted the ass,
and rode away down the road by which he had come. This circumstance
seemed suspicious to Bob at first, but afterwards he thought that
perhaps he had gone to Salerno to get the ransom.
After this, darkness came on so suddenly that he was amazed. He
had already noticed that the twilight in Italy was very much less
than that to which he had been accustomed at home, but had never
been so impressed by it as now. There seemed but a minute Between
day and night It was quite bright, and then in a wonderfully short
time it became dark.
Upon this they all entered the house. Bob had to go with the rest.
The room was feebly illuminated by a small oil lamp. Bob noticed
that they fastened the door with a huge chain. The fastening of
that door was ominous to him, and the clanking of that chain smote
him to the heart, and echoed drearily within his soul. It seemed
to him now like real imprisonment, shut in here with chains and
bars, within this stone prison.
Soon they all prepared to retire; and the brigand who had first
met Bob beckoned to him, and taking the lamp, climbed the ladder
to the upper story. Bob followed him. The upper story was about
eighteen feet above the lower one. On reaching it, Bob saw that it
was all one apartment. There was no bed here, or bedding, or
furniture of any description whatever. Sheep-skins hung from the
rafters, and dried mutton, and some vegetables. In one corner was
a pile of straw. To this the brigand pointed, and Bob went over
there. He understood that he was to pass the night on this pile of
straw. Once more Bob looked all around as he stood there by the
straw. He saw the farther end of the room in dark shadows; he saw
the articles hanging from the rafters. He noticed, also, that
there were two windows, one in front and the other in the rear. In
these windows there were no sashes. They were open to the night
air. One glance sufficed to show him this.
The brigand now said something which Bob supposed to mean good
night, so he very civilly said the same in English. The brigand
grinned, and then descended the ladder, taking the lamp with him.
On his departure, Bob's first act was to take off his boots. He
then felt his way along the wall to the front window, for it was
so intensely dark inside and outside, that not a thing was visible.
Reaching the window, he put his head out and looked down. He could
see nothing. All was the very blackness of darkness. He looked up
to the sky. All there was blackness also and darkness. Then he
looked down again. If he had only some means of getting down, he
could venture the descent; but he had nothing. There were no sheets
here for him to tie together; he could not make a rope out of that
straw strong enough to bear his weight. To jump down was not to be
thought of, for he knew very well that at least twenty feet separated
him from the ground.
He turned away from the window in despair, and groping his way back
to his rude bed, he sat upon the straw, and gave himself up to his
gloomy and despondent thoughts.