oses to do so, and consequently, as such, they were
under the condemnation of the Pope; and any priest might think he was
doing the Pope good service by betraying those who were his enemies.
As to this priest, every thing was against him. He lived close by;
every step of the country was no doubt familiar to him; he had come to
the camp under very suspicious circumstances, bringing with him a
stranger in disguise. He had given plausible answers to the
cross-questioning of Girasole; but those were empty words, which went
for nothing in the presence of the living facts that now stood before
him in the presence of the enemy.

These thoughts had all occurred to Girasole, and the sight of the two
prisoners kindled his rage to madness. It was the deadliest purpose of
vengeance that gleamed in his eyes as he looked upon them, and they
knew it. He gave one glance, and then turned to his men.

"On! on!" he cried; "I will join you in an instant; and you," he said
to the guards, "wait a moment."

The brigands rushed on with shouts to assist their comrades in the
fight, while the other four waited.

All this time the fight had not ceased. The air was filled with the
reports of rifle-shots, the shouts of men, the yells of the wounded.
The flashes seemed to be gradually drawing nearer, as though the
assailants were still driving the brigands. But their progress was
slow, for the fighting was carried on among the trees, and the
brigands resisted stubbornly, retreating from cover to cover, and
stopping every moment to make a fresh stand. But the assailants had
gained much ground, and were already close by the borders of the lake,
and advancing along toward the old stone house.

The robbers had not succeeded in binding their prisoners. The priest
and Ethel both stood where they had encountered Girasole, and the
ropes fell from the robbers' hands at the new interruption. The grave
with its mound was only a few feet away.

Girasole had a pistol in his left hand and a sword in his right. He
sheathed his sword and drew another pistol, keeping his eyes fixed
steadily all the while upon his victims.

"You needn't bind these prisoners," said Girasole, grimly; "I know a
better way to secure them."

"In the name of God," cried the priest, "I implore you not to shed
innocent blood!"

"Pooh!" said Girasole.

"This lady is innocent; you will at least spare her!"

"She shall die first!" said Girasole, in a fury, and reached out his
han