The Sicilian Bandit

On the 1st of May, 1805, there was a high festival at Castel Nuovo: Pascal Bruno was in excellent humour, and gave a supper to one of his best friends, Placido Tomaselli, an honest dealer in contraband, belonging to the village of Gesso, and to two females the latter had brought with him from Messina. This delicate attention sensibly effected Bruno, and that he might not be behindhand in politeness with so provident a comrade, he determined to perform the honours of his domicile after the fashion of the best society. Accordingly, the finest wines of Sicily and Calabria were selected from the cellars of the fortress, the most noted cooks of Bauso were placed in requisition, and all that singular luxury was displayed to which at times it pleased the hero of our history to resort.

The guests had only just begun dinner when Ali brought Placido Tomaselli a letter, which a countryman from Gesso had placed in his hands. Placido read it, and crumbling it up in a violent passion, exclaimed —

"Upon my word he has chosen his time very nicely."

"What is it, comrade?" said Bruno.

"Perdition! why, a summons from Captain Luigi Cama, of Villa San Giovanni."

"What, our purveyor of rum?" asked Bruno.

"Yes," replied Placido; "he informs me he is off the shore, and has a full cargo which he wishes to dispose of before the custom-house officers hear of his arrival."

"Business before all things," replied Bruno. "I'll wait for you. I am in very good company, so make yourself easy; if you are not too long gone, you will find everything you leave, and more than you can take away."

"It is only an hour's work," replied Placido, appearing to yield to the reasoning of his host; "the beach is only about five hundred yards from this spot."

"And there is the whole night before us," observed Pascal.

"A good appetite, comrade," said Placido. "A successful expedition, master," said Bruno. Placido left the castle, and Bruno remained with the two women, and, as he had promised his guest, proceedings did not suffer by his absence. Bruno was amiable enough for any two, and the conversation began to assume the most animated character, when the door opened, and a new actor appeared on the scene. Pascal turned round and recognised the Maltese merchant we have already spoken of several times, of whom he was one of the best customers.

"By St. Gregory!" he exclaimed, "you are welcome; and the more so, if you have brought any of those Turkish pastilles, a packet of Latakia tobacco, and a few Tunisian shawls; by-the-by, your opium acted admirably."

"I am glad of it," replied the Maltese; "but on this occasion, I have come on quite another business."

"Ah! you have come to sup with me, is that it?" asked Bruno. "Pray sit down, sit down, and once again you are welcome; there, that is a seat fit for a king."

"Your wine is excellent, I know, and these ladies are charming," replied the Maltese; "but I have something very important to speak to you about."

"To me?" asked Bruno.

"Yes, to you," replied the Maltese.

"Well go on," said Bruno.

"I must speak to you alone," said the Maltese.

"Well, then," said Bruno, "I'll hear you tomorrow, my worthy captain."

"But I must inform you immediately," said the Maltese.

"Well, then, speak before the company," said Bruno; "we have not too many here, and I make it a rule when I feel comfortable never to disturb myself, even if my life were at stake."

"That is the very subject I wish to allude to," said the Maltese.

"Bah!" replied Bruno; "heaven looks after honest men; here's to your health, captain."

The Maltese emptied his glass.

"That's right; now sit down and let me hear your sermon, we'll listen to you with proper attention."

The merchant perceived he must give in to the whim of his host, and he consequently obeyed him.

"Well, now then, what is it?" said Bruno.

"First, then," continued the Maltese, "you know that the justices of Calvaruso, Spadafora, Bauso, Saponara, Divito, and Domita have been arrested."

"I have heard something about it," said Pascal Bruno, carelessly, at the same time emptying his glass of Marsala, the best wine in Sicily.

"But do you know the cause of their arrest?" inquired the merchant.

"I guess at it," said Bruno; "is it not because the Prince of Carini, being in an extremely ill-humour on account of his mistress having retired to a convent, has taken it into his head that they have been too slow, and have shown too little skill in their attempts to arrest a certain Pascal Bruno, whose head is worth two thousand ducats?"

"Exactly so," said the merchant.

"You see," said Bruno, "I am quite aware of what is going on."

"Yet, for all that," said the Maltese, "there may be some circumstances of which you are still ignorant."

"God is great! as Ali says," replied Bruno; "but go on, and I will acknowledge my ignorance; I wish for nothing so much as instruction."

"Well," said the Maltese, "the six judges have met together, and each has put down twenty-five ounces – that makes one hundred and fifty ounces."

"Or, in other words," replied Bruno, in the same careless tone, "eighteen hundred and ninety livres. You see, if my books are not well regulated, it is not for want of arithmetic. Well, what next?"

"After that," continued the merchant, "they offered this sum to two or three men, known as your common associates, if they would assist them in capturing you."

"Let them offer it," said Bruno; "I am quite certain they will not meet with a traitor within ten leagues."

"You deceive yourself," answered the Maltese; "the traitor is found."

"Ha!" exclaimed Bruno, knitting his brow and grasping his dagger; "and how do you know that?"

"Why, my good fellow," said the merchant, "in the simplest way in the world; yesterday I was at the house of the Prince de Goto, governor of Messina, who sent for me for the purpose of purchasing some Turkish goods, when a servant entered the room and whispered a few words in his ear. 'Very well,' said the prince, 'let him come in.' He then made a sign to me to go into an adjoining room for a short time; I obeyed, and as he never suspected that I was acquainted with you, I overheard a conversation that concerned you."

"Well," said Bruno.

"It was the traitor," said the Maltese; "he undertook to open the doors of your fortress, and to place you in their hands unarmed while you were at supper; and he himself engaged to conduct the gens-d'armes to your dining-room."

"And do you know who this man is?" demanded Bruno.

"Yes," said the merchant.

"His name?" said Bruno.

"Placido Tomaselli."

"Confusion!" exclaimed the bandit; "he was here but an instant ago."