kill the man who
had written a letter in his name, and he insinuated that this ruffian
had probably suspected the colonel, and murdered him. Such a vengeance,
for a similar reason, is by no means unprecedented in the history of
brigandage.

Five days after Colonel della Rebbia's death, Agostini was surprised by
a detachment of riflemen, and killed, fighting desperately to the last.
On his person was found a letter from Colomba, beseeching him to declare
whether he was guilty of the murder imputed to him, or not. As the
bandit had sent no answer, it was pretty generally concluded that he had
not the courage to tell a daughter he had murdered her father. Yet those
who claimed to know Agostini's nature thoroughly, whispered that if
he had killed the colonel, he would have boasted of the deed. Another
bandit, known by the name of Brandolaccio, sent Colomba a declaration
in which he bore witness "on his honour" to his comrade's innocence--but
the only proof he put forward was that Agostini had never told him that
he suspected the colonel.

The upshot was that the Barricini suffered no inconvenience, the
examining magistrate was loud in his praise of the mayor, and the mayor,
on his side, crowned his handsome behaviour by relinquishing all his
claims over the stream, concerning which he had brought the lawsuit
against Colonel della Rebbia.

According to the custom of her country, Colomba improvised a _ballata_
in presence of her father's corpse, and before his assembled friends. In
it she poured out all her hatred against the Barricini, formally charged
them with the murder, and threatened them with her brother's vengeance.
It was this same _ballata_, which had grown very popular, that the
sailor had sung before Miss Lydia. When Orso, who was in the north of
France, heard of his father's death, he applied for leave, but failed to
obtain it. A letter from his sister led him to believe at first in the
guilt of the Barricini, but he soon received copies of all the documents
connected with the inquiry and a private letter from the judge, which
almost convinced him that the bandit Agostini was the only culprit.
Every three months Colomba had written to him, reiterating her
suspicions, which she called her "proofs." In spite of himself, these
accusations made his Corsican blood boil, and sometimes he was very near
sharing his sister's prejudices. Nevertheless, every time he wrote to
her he repeated his conviction that her alleg