g. A little distance
off there was a bridge, which crossed the torrent. Beyond this
the mountains sloped away in an easy declivity, where appeared
several houses. On the other side of the bridge were two men.
The sight filled Bob with joy, and fearing that the ass might
once more take it into his head to run, he at once leaped off
the animal's back, and walked towards the bridge. The ass, freed
from his weight, trotted briskly away, and Bob followed. The
noise of me ass trotting over the bridge roused the two men, and
they walked across and caught him. One of them then held him,
and the other walked towards Bob.

As the latter approached, Bob noticed that he was dirty and bearded,
and rather shabby. He had a coarse jacket, with brass buttons; a
red flannel shirt, which was open, and disclosed a hairy breast;
and coarse leather breeches with leggings. A conical felt hat was
on the top of his head. Thusfar he was simply the counterpart of
hundreds of other peasants in this part of the country, shepherds,
drovers, wine-sellers, etc., such as he had encountered during his
drive. But in one important respect ne was different.

He had a gun in his hand.

This gun at once made him seem more than a simple peasant. It made
a profound impression upon Bob. And as the Italian approached, with
his eyes fixed on the new comer, a strange and very natural suspicion
was roused in Bob's mind.

"It's a brigand!" he thought. "I'm lost!"

CHAPTER VII.

The Lurking-place of the Brigands.--The captive Boy.--The hideous
Household.--The horrible old Hag.--The slattern Woman.--The dirty
Children.--The old Crone and the evil Eye.--Despondency of Bob.--Is
Escape Possible?--Night.-Imprisoned.--The Bed of Straw.--Outlook
into the Night from the Prison Windows.

A brigand!

Such was the appalling thought that came to the mind of Bob, as
the Italian advanced towards, him. As he came closer, his face
became more distinctly revealed. It was not a face which reassured
him. Heavy, shaggy black eyebrows, from beneath which gleamed black
and fiery eyes, a skin browned by the hot, Italian sun, and white
teeth, that glistened from behind a vast matted mass of tangled
beard and moustache,--such was the face that appeared. It seemed
an evil and sinister face--a face that revealed a cruel and
treacherous soul. No wonder that Bob's heart sank within him as he
saw himself confronted by one like this.

The Italian stood looking at him with sha