e fell upon this touching evidence of dear
Valeria's love for me, and I glanced at her tenderly. "This has a deeper
significance than you think for," said the colonel, looking round
angrily. "Croppo's wife does not carefully secrete a drawing like that
on her person for nothing. See, it is done by no common artist. It
means something, and must be preserved."

"It may have a Biblical reference to the state of Italy. You remember
Issachar was likened to an ass between two burdens. In that case it
probably emanated from Rome," I remarked; but nobody seemed to see the
point of the allusion, and the observation fell flat.

That night I dined with the colonel, and after dinner I persuaded him to
let me visit Valeria in prison, as I wished to take the portrait of the
wife of the celebrated brigand chief. I thanked my stars that my friend
who had seen her when we met in the glen, was away on duty with his
detachment, and could not testify to our former acquaintance. My meeting
with Valeria on this occasion was too touching and full of tender
passages to be of any general interest. Valeria told me that she was
still a bride; that she had only been married a few months, and that she
had been compelled to become Croppo's wife against her choice, as the
brigand's will was too powerful to be resisted; but that, though he was
jealous and attached to her, he was stern and cruel, and so far from
winning her love since her marriage, he had rather estranged it by his
fits of passion and ferocity. As may be imagined, the portrait, which
was really very successful, took some time in execution, the more
especially as we had to discuss the possibilities of Valeria's escape.

"We are going to be transferred to-morrow to the prison at Foggia," she
said. "If, while we were passing through the market-place, a disturbance
of some sort could be created, as it is market day, and all the country
people know me, and are my friends, a rescue might be attempted. I know
how to arrange for that, only they must see some chance of success."

A bright thought suddenly struck me; it was suggested by a trick I had
played shortly after my arrival in Italy.

"You know I am something of a magician, Valeria; you have had proof of
that. If I create a disturbance by magic to-morrow, when you are passing
through the market-place, you won't stay to wonder what is the cause of
the confusion, but instantly take advantage of it to escape."

"Trust me f