with
your hands, neither defend yourself nor work. Go, I begin to understand;
you are a braggart, my fine sir; your poverty is usurped; you have decked
yourself in these poor clothes, but you are unworthy of them."

He suffered a glance of crushing contempt to fall upon the prince, then
going to a cupboard hidden in the wall, he drew out a rifle and an axe.

"Here," said he, "are all the weapons in the house; choose."

A flash of joy illuminated the countenance of the prince, who had
hitherto suppressed his rage. He seized the rifle eagerly, drew three
steps backward, and drawing himself up to his full height, said, "You
would have done better to lend me this weapon at the beginning; for then
I would have been spared from witnessing your silly vapourings and
frantic convulsions. Thanks, young-man; one of my servants will bring
you back your gun. Farewell."

And he threw him his purse, which fell heavily at the fisherman's feet.

"I lent you that rifle to fight with me," cried Gabriel, whom surprise
had rooted to the spot.

"Move aside, my lad; you are out of your senses," said the prince, taking
a step towards the door.

"So you refuse to defend yourself?" asked Gabriel in a determined voice.

"I have told you already that I cannot fight with you."

"Why not?"

"Because such is the will of God; because you were born to crawl and I to
trample you under my feet; because all the blood that I could shed in
this island would not purchase one drop of my blood; because a thousand
lives of wretches like you are not equal to one hour of mine; because you
will kneel at my name that I, am now going to utter; because, in short,
you are but a poor fisherman and my name is Prince of Brancaleone."

At this dreaded name, which the young nobleman flung, like a thunderbolt,
at his head, the fisherman bounded like a lion. He drew a deep breath,
as though he had lifted a weight that had long rested on his heart.

"Ah!" he cried, "you have given yourself into my hands, my lord! Between
the poor fisherman and the all-powerful prince there is a debt of blood.
You shall pay for yourself and for your father. We are going to settle
our accounts, your excellency," he added, rising his axe over the head of
the prince, who was aiming at him. "Oh! you were in too great haste to
choose: the rifle is not loaded." The prince turned pale.

"Between our two families," Gabriel continued, "there exists a horrible
secret which my moth