kly. "It was my father, who is so
accustomed to firearms, who said to me, 'There's Signor della Rebbia
shooting with my gun!'"

"And you are sure those shots you recognised were the last?"

"The two last, weren't they, papa?"

Memory was not the colonel's strong point, but as a standing rule, he
knew better than to contradict his daughter.

"I must mention this to the public prosecutor at once, colonel. And
besides, we expect a surgeon this evening, who will make an examination
of the two bodies, and find out whether the wounds were caused by that
particular weapon."

"I gave it to Orso," said the colonel, "and I wish I knew it was at the
bottom of the sea. At least----Plucky boy! I'm heartily glad he had it
with him, for I don't quite know how he would have got off if it hadn't
been for my Manton."

CHAPTER XIX

It was rather late when the surgeon put in an appearance. On his road up
he had met with an adventure of his own. He had been stopped by Giocanto
Castriconi, who, with the most scrupulous politeness, called on him to
come and attend a wounded man. He had been conducted to Orso's retreat,
and had applied the first dressings to his wound. The bandit had then
accompanied the doctor some distance on his way, and had greatly edified
him by his talk concerning the most celebrated professors at Pisa, whom
he described as his intimate friends.

"Doctor," said the theologian, as they parted, "you have inspired me
with such a feeling of respect that I think it hardly necessary to
remind you that a physician should be as discreet as a confessor." And
as he said the words he clicked the trigger of his gun. "You have quite
forgotten the spot at which we have had the honour of meeting. Fare you
well! I'm delighted to have made your acquaintance."

Colomba besought the colonel to be present at the post-mortem
examination.

"You know my brother's gun better than anybody," she said, "and your
presence will be most valuable. Besides there are so many wicked people
here that we should run a great risk if there were nobody present to
protect our interests."

When she was left alone with Miss Lydia, she complained that her head
ached terribly, and proposed that they should take a walk just outside
the village.

"The fresh air will do me good," she said. "It is so long since I've
been out of doors."

As they walked along she talked about her brother, and Miss Lydia, who
found the subject tolerably interesting,