e world has change. It has progress. With it I advance, but you
do not. You would murder, rob, torture to-day as the great Duke, your
grandfather, did. You think we still are of the world independent. You
think we are powerful and great. Bah! we are nothing--we are as a speck
of dust. But still we are the outlaws and the outcasts of Sicily, and
some day Italy will crush us and we will be forgotten."

"I dare them to molest us!"

"Because you are imbecile. The world you do not know. I have travel; I
see many countries; and I am wise."

"But you are still my vassal, my slave; and I alone rule here. Always
have you rebelled and wanted to escape. Only my iron will has kept you
here and made you do your duty."

"Since you my brother Ridolfo killed, I have little stomach for the
trade of brigand. It is true. But no longer is this trade necessary. We
are rich. Had I a son to inherit your business, a different thought
might prevail; but I have only Tato, and a girl cannot be a successful
brigand."

"Why not?" cried the old Duchessa, contemptuously. "It is the
girl--always the girl--you make excuses for. But have I not ruled our
domain--I, who am a woman?"

Tato herself answered, in a quiet voice.

"And what have you become, nonna, more than an outcast?" she enquired.
"What use to you is money, or a power that the world would sneer at, did
the world even suspect that you exist? You are a failure in life, my
nonna, and I will not be like you."

The Duchessa screamed an epithet and glared at the child as if she would
annihilate her; but no fitting words to reply could she find.

Uncle John smiled delightedly. He felt no sense of humiliation or revolt
at eavesdropping in this den of thieves, and to be able to gain so fair
a revelation of the inner life of this remarkable family was a diversion
not lightly to be foregone.

"So far, we have managed to escape the law," resumed the Duke. "But
always it may not be our fortune to do this, if we continue this life.
It is now a good time to stop. Of one American we will gain a quarter of
a million lira--a fortune--and of the other one hundred and fifty
thousand lira. With what we already have it is enough and more. Quietly
we will disband our men and go away. In another land we live the
respectable life, in peace with all, and Tato shall be the fine lady,
and forget she once was a brigand's daughter."

The child sprang up in glee, and clasping her father's neck with both
arms