"As well as man can know such a compound of fascination and subtlety as an Italian woman," laughed the handsome guardsman. "You are to learn, gentlemen, that this is the escapade I spoke of: the duel with the devil of a brother. There was a judge of the grand civil court of Cosenza, who died here lately, after living in retirement since our friends the French crossed the Alps. This learned old fellow had two daughters, Pompeia and Teresa; the first I have never seen, but the last, who resides with her mother here, has been for some time past the happy means of cheering my dreary detachment duty in the towns hereabout: and truly the girl is a magnificent creature for a Calabrian! Her bright eyes and ruby lips are Italian; her white skin, full bosom, and long flowing hair have come with the Greek blood; and her vivacity is quite oriental." "_Was_, you should say," muttered the young man. "Alas! signor, her vivacity has fled since you knew her." "In short, Captain Piozzi, you have had an intrigue," said I. "Right, signor," he replied, composedly; "but one fraught with the due proportion of mystery and cold steel which usually accompany an Italian intrigue. It being discovered that I had carried the fortress by a _coup de main_, the girl Teresa was consigned to that convent yonder, the campanile of which you now see shining in the sun; and the mother solaced herself with strong hysterics and strong waters until the arrival of her son, a fiery young subaltern of the Sicilian volunteers, who galloped across from the camp of St. Eufemio, with the express purpose of parading me. "Three days ago, when returning from this wine-house, and just under the Madonna at the street corner yonder, this young spark assaulted me sword in hand; flinging his hat on the ground and his cloak round his left arm, in the most approved duellist fashion. So furious was his onset that I had scarcely time to stand on my guard, but we thrust and cut at each other like any two bravos on the boards of the San Carlo; my superior skill soon overcame the Herculean strength of the Calabrese officer, and the fifth passado laid him dead at my feet." "Madonnia mia!" exclaimed the Calabrian, smiting his breast with horror. "The devil!" I exclaimed; "poor fellow, and you really killed him?" "Not quite, signor; but old Porko, I believe, brained him with his halberd," was the cool reply. "The villain, Porko, shall answer dearly for this mutiny and murder!" exclaimed Castelermo, with an aspect of severity. "And so, Signor Piozzi, you have gone from bad to worse; first outraged the confiding sister, and then destroyed the spirited brother!" "Cospetto!" muttered Piozzi, "I know these things will sound ill at the court, and in old Fardella’s office at Palermo, whatever they may be thought of at our mess-house on the Cassero."