to each other--ha, ha, ha!--but
'pon my life it's too bad in me to be howling out in this fashion,
my poor lad, when you're in the midst of such deep affliction. I
swear I'm sorry. I forget myself."

"But I'm not in any affliction at all," said David.

"What! What's that?" cried the ex-brigand. "Didn't you lose your
father?"

"No."

"But your father, and mother, and the rest of them--"

"No," said David. "You didn't quite understand what I wanted to
say." And he then proceeded to tell his story in plain English. He
was listened to with deep attention; but as his story turned out
to be so different from the first report of the ex-brigand, the
lady stole an arch look at her husband, and her eyes fairly danced
with fun and merriment. But the ex-brigand bore it admirably; and
as David ended, and showed himself to be in no such deep affliction
as had been supposed, he once more burst forth in a fresh peal of
riotous laughter.

Upon this David ventured to hint at his own late fears, and on
being questioned by the lady he confessed frankly what had been
the interpretation that he put upon the signs of the ex-brigand.

"Well," said that worthy, "I'm not a brigand at all. I'm an artist."

"I'm sure I don't wonder, Walter," said the lady. "You dress yourself
up in such an absurd fashion--and I've always told you that this
room looks like a bandit's den."

"No, no, Laura; say an artist's studio. How could I get along
without my furniture. As for my dress, it's quite in keeping with
the place and the people. It's picturesque, and that's all an artist
is bound to consider."

Further explanations followed, in the course of which it appeared
that this ex-brigand was Mr. Walter Ludlow, an American artist,
who, for the time being, was living here with his bride. They had
been married three months. The island was Capri. They were enjoying
love in a cottage, which cottage was furnished in an artistic,
rather than a fashionable way. They lived here quite free from
restraint, and the artist occupied the time partly with his art,
and partly with general enjoyment. Neither of them felt at all
inclined to leave Capri for some time to come, but thought it the
pleasantest place in the world.

Ludlow happened that day to be cleaning his gun, with the intention
of going on a shooting excursion. The noise which had been made in
the wood by David had startled him, and he had gone to see what it
was, with the idea that some cattle had