-
an unforgettable sight!

As I went into the little inn to fetch some refreshment I found myself
in the narrow passage face to face with Bernardo, pale, and with glowing
eyes. He wildly seized my hand, and said: "I am not an assassin,
Antonio; but fight with me you shall, or I shall become your murderer!"

I tried to calm him, but he forced a pistol into my hand. "She loves
you," he whispered; "and you, in your vanity, will parade it before all
the Roman people--before me!" He threw himself upon me. I thrust him
back. I heard a report; my hand trembled. Bernardo lay before me in his
blood. The people of the house rushed in, and with them Annunciata. I
wanted to fling myself, in despair, upon Bernardo's body; but Annunciata
lay on her knees beside him, trying to staunch the blood. "Save
yourself!" she cried. But I, overcome by anguish, exclaimed: "I am
innocent; the pistol went off by accident. Yes, Annunciata, we loved
you. I would die for you, like he! Which of us was the dearer to you?
Tell me whether you love me, and then I will escape." She bowed her head
down to the dead. I heard her weeping, and saw her press her lips to
Bernardo's brow. Then I heard voices shout "Fly, fly!" and, as by
invisible hands, I was torn out of the house.

Like a madman I rushed through bushes and underwood until I reached the
Tiber. Among the ruins of a tomb I came across three men sitting around
a fire, to whom I explained that I wanted a boat to cross the river.
They agreed to take me across; but I had better give them my money to
keep for safety. I realised that I had fallen into the hands of robbers,
gave them all I had, was tied on to a horse, and taken across the river,
riding all night, until at dawn we reached a wild part of the mountains.
They wanted to keep me for ransom, and dispatched one of their number to
Rome to find out all he could about me. The man returned; and with a
thankful heart I heard that Bernardo was only wounded and on the way to
recovery.

My rough hosts having found out my gift, I was asked to sing to them;
and once more my power of improvisation stood me in good stead. When I
had finished, a wrinkled old woman, who seemed to be held in great
reverence by the robbers, came towards me. "Thou hast sung thy ransom!"
she exclaimed. "The sound of music is stronger than gold!" Yet I was
detained six days, during which there were mysterious comings and
goings. The old witch herself, who had made me write on a