you to
be captain."

Tavella walked away without answering, but instead of carrying out the
king's behest, went into his house, and did not appear again.

In the meantime the people were massing together without evincing any of
the sympathy that the king had hoped for. He felt that he was lost if he
did not act instantly.

"To Monteleone!" he cried, springing forward towards the road which led
to that town.

"To Monteleone!" shouted his officers and men, as they followed him.

And the crowd, persistently silent, opened to let them pass.

But they had hardly left the square before a great disturbance broke
out. A man named Giorgio Pellegrino came out of his house with a gun and
crossed the square, shouting, "To your arms!"

He knew that Captain Trenta Capelli commanding the Cosenza garrison was
just then in Pizzo, and he was going to warn him.

The cry "To arms!" had more effect on the crowd than the cry "Long live
Joachim!"

Every Calabrian possesses a gun, and each one ran to fetch his, and when
Trenta Capelli and Giorgio Pellegrino came back to the square they found
nearly two hundred armed men there.

They placed themselves at the head of the column, and hastened forward
in pursuit of the king; they came up with him about ten minutes from
the square, where the bridge is nowadays. Seeing them, Murat stopped and
waited for them.

Trenta Capelli advanced, sword in hand, towards the king.

"Sir," said the latter, "will you exchange your captain's epaulettes
for a general's? Cry 'Long live Joachim!' and follow me with these brave
fellows to Monteleone."

"Sire," said Trenta Capelli, "we are the faithful subjects of King
Ferdinand, and we come to fight you, and not to bear you company. Give
yourself up, if you would prevent bloodshed."

Murat looked at the captain with an expression which it would be
impossible to describe; then without deigning to answer, he signed to
Cagelli to move away, while his other hand went to his pistol. Giotgio
Pellegrino perceived the movement.

"Down, captain, down!" he cried. The captain obeyed. Immediately a
bullet whistled over his head and brushed Murat's head.

"Fire!" commanded Franceschetti.

"Down with your arms!" cried Murat.

Waving his handkerchief in his right hand, he made a step towards
the peasants, but at the same moment a number of shots were fired, an
officer and two or three men fell. In a case like this, when blood has
begun to flow, there is no stop