1830.] The Corsican Bandit. 281 



they would have served but to awaken their precautions ; and, like the 

 tame animal employed by the hunter to ensnare his fellow, Cecca was 

 destined to discover Pietro's retreat. The following night she was 

 allowed to escape as usual, and closely followed. At this part of the 

 narrative, my guide, rising abruptly, and with his Italian vivacity, 

 " There," said he, (f on that very spot where you are now seated, Cecca 

 too was seated with Pietro by her side." The full moon illuminated the 

 valley and the entrance of the cavern, the interior of which was wrapped 

 in profound obscurity. 



It was one of those lovely summer nights whose refreshing breeze 

 purifies the air so sweetly after the heaviness of a sultry day. No sound 

 was heard save the distant murmur of the torrent, and the rustling of 

 the wind amongst the foliage of the pines. Cecca, exhausted with 

 fatigue, slept with her head reclined on the shoulder of Pietro, who, 

 fearful of disturbing the slumbers of his beloved, scarcely allowed him- 

 self to breathe. Presently a slight noise was heard, which an inhabitant 

 of the valley might have mistaken for that occasioned by the flight of 

 some night-bird, or by the rapid pace of the chamois : but the bandit's 

 practised ear was not to be deceived. In an instant Pietro was on his 

 feet, and the suddenness of the movement awakened Cecca. " Hark !" 

 said he. The noise had ceased. Pietro seized his carbine, and advanced 

 towards the entrance of the cavern, the path leading to which was soli- 

 tary as before : all was calm. The pale countenance of Cecca reposed 

 on the shoulder of her lover ; " I can see nothing," said she." " There 

 they are !" repeated he. " By Saint Antonio, 'tis something more sub- 

 stantial than the breeze that agitates the foliage yonder !" At the same 

 instant, a flash lighted up the spot to which he pointed, and Pietro fell 

 to the ground. Quickly recovering himself, but too feeble to stand 

 upright, he raised himself on his knees. 



Concealed by a projecting fragment of rock, he gave his well-fur- 

 nished pouch to Cecca, who, placing himself behind him, by turns 

 loaded each of his two fusils, which she immediately afterwards pre- 

 sented to him. Heedless of danger, the generous girl thought but of 

 her lover, whom she beheld pale and bleeding, leaning against the rock, 

 and at every instant becoming more faint. The unequal struggle 

 rapidly drew near its close. A ball grazed the cheek of Cecca, and 

 fractured Pietro's right arm. His eye inflamed with the expression of 

 hatred and desperate courage, he extended to Cecca his fusil, charged 

 with his last remaining cartridge. " Fire !" said he, pointing with his 

 finger to an advancing enemy, " fire, like a true Corsican's wife; but 

 first take good aim." The aim was but too well levelled; the enemy 

 of Cecca's lover fell weltering in his blood. Making a last effort, " I 

 am revenged \" cried Pietro with a savage yell ; " Cecca, 'tis your 

 father !" The wretched Cecca heard no more. Heaven, in pity to her 

 sufferings, deprived her of the gift of reason. Since that fatal moment 

 the maniac has wandered through the forest, half-naked, and impatient 

 of the slightest constraint. Forced occasionally, by the cravings of hun- 

 ger, to make her appearance in the village, she begs a morsel of bread, 

 which is never refused; and afterwards, guided by a sort of vague 

 instinct, returns to her miserable cavern, where she passes her nights. A 

 faint hope of finding her Pietro urges her sometimes to wander on the 

 high roads ; but, as my guide observed, " 'tis more a habit than ap 

 idea !" 



M.M. New Series. VOL. IX. No. 51. 2 O 



