ious crimes, condemned many times to an
outlaw's death, pursued in vain by the officers of the law, habituated
for years to a life of adventure, pillage, and murder, he treated his
prisoners without pity or mercy. All who were unable to purchase their
liberty by paying whatever ransom he fixed, were put to death. He
looked upon civilized people not as men, but as prizes.

As he saw the captive approach, he asked the usual question,--

"Who are you?"

"Salvator Rosa, a Neapolitan painter, now resident of Florence."

"O, a painter! A poor prize, generally. But you are famous, I hear;
the prince is your friend. Your pictures sell for very large prices.
You must pay us ten thousand ducats."

[Illustration: {Sivora, the chief's wife, standing on the cliff edge}]

"Ten thousand ducats, indeed! Where do you suppose I can get so much?"

"Well, as for that, if you haven't got the money, your friends must
get it for you."

"But my friends are not rich."

"Ah, excuse me!" said the chief, smiling. "When one has a prince for a
protector, he is always rich."

"It is true that the prince is my patron; but he owes me nothing."

"No matter if he don't. He would not be deprived of such an artist as
you for a paltry ten thousand ducats."

"He pays me for my pictures; but he will not pay my ransom."

"He _must_," said the robber, emphatically; "so no more words. Ask
your friends, if you prefer, or whoever you will; but bring me ten
thousand ducats, and that within a month; otherwise you must die."

As the chief uttered these words, he walked away, leaving Salvator in
the middle of the ground which formed the camp.

During the short conversation two children came from one of the tents,
being attracted by the noise. Their little blond heads, curiously
turned towards the captive, their faces, tanned by the sun, but
animated by the crimson of health and youth, and their picturesque
costume had attracted the attention of the painter. When the chief had
gone away, he approached them, and smiled. The children drew away
abashed; then, reassured by the air of goodness which the young man
wore, they came nearer, and permitted him to embrace them.

"Are you going to live with us?" said the eldest, who was about eight
years of age.

"I don't know, my little friend."

"O, I wish you would! It is so nice to stop in these mountains. There
are plenty of beautiful flowers, and birds' nests, too. I have three
already; I will show them