s
beneath. After having taken one look over the precipice, and examined
the neighborhood rapidly, Pietratesta cried, "Halt!" and the whole
body came to a rest.

"There is just a quarter of an hour for you to live," he said, turning
to his prisoner. "You have time to die like a Christian. Make your
prayer."

The young man hesitated for a moment, threw his agitated eyes around,
then, kneeling on the rock, he prayed earnestly. The men stood
unmoved, as if they had been statues cut from stone.

Salvator rose, with a calm demeanor, and said, addressing the chief in
a firm tone,--

"My life is in your hands, I know. You are going to kill me without
any cause. I have prayed," he added, with a voice full of authority,
"for the salvation of my soul, and repentance for thine. God will
judge us both. I am ready."

Immediately the brigands seized the young man, and hurried him towards
the precipice. Already they waited but the signal of their chief,
already Pietratesta had given the fatal command, when a cry was heard
not many paces distant, which suspended the preparations.

"Stop!" exclaimed a harsh voice.

The bandits, astonished at the interruption, turned to see whence it
came. A woman ran towards them, her hair in disorder, her countenance
pale and agitated, her dark eyes flashing with determination. She held
by their hands two children, who, with weeping eyes, were hastening,
with all the speed their young limbs could carry them, towards the
precipice.

It was Sivora.

As she came forward the chief uttered an exclamation of disappointment
and anger.

"Why do you come here?" he asked, in an irritated voice.

"You know well enough," responded Sivora, without any sign of
intimidation. "What are you about to do? What is the crime of this
young man? What is the wrong he has committed? You know he is
innocent, and that it is not his fault that the price of his ransom
has not been paid. Why commit a useless crime? You have too many on
your soul already," she added, in a low, sad voice. "Since it is not
too late, let the young man go. His ransom is not absolutely
necessary. If it was, would his death bring it to you? Remember with
what care and solicitude he has treated your children! with what
patience he has instructed them in his art! See, they weep, as if
their hearts would break, at the wrong you would do their friend! It
is they--it is I--who ask clemency. You will not kill Salvator; you
will pardon him for th