oofs are before your eyes. Here is a ladder set up against the window;
and here," he proceeded, picking up the two pieces of the broken blade,
"is a dagger with the Brancaleone arms. However, we do not refuse to
follow you."

The last words of the fisherman were drowned by cries of "Down with
the sbirri! down with the gendarmes!" which were repeated in every
direction. The whole island was up in arms, and the fisher-folk would
have suffered themselves to be cut up to the last man before allowing
a single hair of Solomon or of his son to be touched; but the old man
appeared upon his threshold, and, stretching out his arm with a calm and
grave movement that quieted the anger of the crowd, he said, "Thanks, my
children; the law must be respected. I shall be able, alone, to defend
the innocence of my son before the judges."

Hardly three months have elapsed since the day upon which we first
beheld the old fisherman of Nisida sitting before the door of his
dwelling, irradiated by all the happiness that he had succeeded in
creating around him, reigning like a king, on his throne of rock, and
blessing his two children, the most beautiful creatures in the island.
Now the whole existence of this man, who was once so happy and so much
envied, is changed. The smiling cottage, that hung over the gulf like a
swan over a transparent lake, is sad and desolate; the little enclosure,
with its hedges of lilac and hawthorn, where joyous groups used to come
and sit at the close of day, is silent and deserted. No human sound
dares to trouble the mourning of this saddened solitude. Only towards
evening the waves of the sea, compassionating such great misfortunes,
come to murmur plaintive notes upon the beach.

Gabriel has been condemned. The news of the high-born Prince of
Brancaleone's death, so young, so handsome, and so universally adored,
not only fluttered the aristocracy of Naples, but excited profound
indignation in all classes of people. He was mourned by everybody, and a
unanimous cry for vengeance was raised against the murderer.

The authorities opened the inquiry with alarming promptness. The
magistrates whom their office called to judge this deplorable affair
displayed, however, the most irreproachable integrity. No consideration
outside their duty, no deference due to so noble and powerful a family,
could shake the convictions of their conscience. History has kept a
record of this memorable trial; and has, no reproach to mak