"Alas! I am far from trying to deceive you. You know that I have done
all in my power to obtain my ransom. I have written to various
persons; your own men have taken my letters. You see that it is not
my fault."

"It is always the fault of prisoners when their ransom is not paid."

"Wait a little longer. I will write again to-day."

"Wait! wait! A whole year, month after month, has gone by, and you
repeat the same old story. A year--an age for me--I have waited. Do
you think I have been making unmeaning threats? Do you expect to abuse
my patience with impunity? It has given out at last--the more so as,"
added he, now that he felt his anger increasing, "I ought to have
settled this affair a long while ago. This is your last day, observe
me."

At a sign from their chief, four bandits seized the young man, and
bound him. As Salvator was led away, he cast one sad look at the
dwelling where he had passed many happy hours, and from which he was
going to his death. For a moment he stopped to say farewell to the
children, who were standing at the door crying and stretching out
their little naked brown arms towards him.

A few moments later, Sivora, who had been gathering flowers in the
mountains, returned home. Observing that her husband, as well as
Salvator, was absent, and her children in tears, she guessed the
painful truth.

"Where is Salvator?" she asked of the eldest.

"They have bound him, and carried him away," responded the child,
still crying.

"Which way?"

"Down yonder," was the reply of the child, pointing with its finger in
the direction of a rocky cliff already too well known for its horrible
scenes.

"Alas, wretched man!" exclaimed Sivora, almost frantically, as she
comprehended the new crime her husband was about to commit. She sat
down for a moment, covered her face with her hands--a prey to the
most unspeakable anxiety. Then, rising suddenly, her eyes flashing
with determination,--

"Come!" she said, resolutely; "come, my children. Perhaps we may yet
be in time."

And, taking the hands of her little ones, who followed her with
difficulty, but yet eagerly, she darted away at a rapid pace in the
direction taken by the brigands.

While the men were hurrying Salvator along, the chief maintained a
profound silence. His band followed him as dumb as slaves who go to
execute the will of their master, which they know is law. They soon
arrived at the summit of a cliff, which overhung a yawning abys