d in your lives for an hour's labor."

The sight of the gold, as it glistened temptingly in his outstretched
hand, appealed to their hearts far more eloquently than all his words,
and they gathered in a group together to hold counsel.

"And you, are you also a distinguished stranger?" said the courier,
addressing Billy, who sat warming his hands by the embers of the fire.

"Look you, my man," cried the youth, "all the gold in your master's
leathern bag there can give you no claim to insult those who have
offered you no offence. It is enough that you know that we do not belong
to the raft to suffer us to escape your notice."

"_Sacristi!_" exclaimed the courier, in a tone of insolent mockery, "I
have travelled the road long enough to learn that one does not need an
introduction before addressing a vagabond."

[Illustration: 402]

"Vagabond!" cried the youth, furiously; and he sprang at the other with
the bound of a tiger. The courier quickly parried the blow aimed at him,
and, closely grappled, they both now reeled out of the hut in terrible
conflict. With that terror of the knife that figures in all Italian
quarrels, the boatmen did not dare to interfere, but looked on
as, wrestling with all their might, the combatants struggled, each
endeavoring to push the other towards the stream. Billy, too, restrained
by force, could not come to the rescue, and could only by words,
screamed out in all the wildness of his agony, encourage his companion.
"Drop on your knee--catch him by the legs--throw him back--back into the
stream. That's it--that's it! Good luck to ye!" shouted he, madly, as
he fought like a lion with those about him. Slipping in the slimy soil,
they had both now come to their knees; and after a struggle of some
minutes' duration, rolled, clasped in each other's fierce embrace, down
the slope into the river. A plash, and a cry half smothered, were heard,
and all was over.

While some threw themselves on the frantic creature, whose agony now
overtopped his reason, and who fought to get free, with the furious rage
of despair, others, seizing lanterns and torches, hurried along the bank
of the torrent to try and rescue the combatants. A sudden winding of the
river at the place gave little hope to the search, and it was all but
certain that the current must already have swept them down far beyond
any chance of succor. Assisted by the servants of the traveller, who
speedily were apprised of the disaster, the se