The child, using both hands and feet, scrambled onto the wall, and the moment she caught sight of Orlanduccio’s corpse she crossed herself. “That’s nothing,” proceeded the bandit; “go and look farther on, over there!” The child crossed herself again. “Was it you, uncle?” she asked timidly. “Me! Don’t you know I’ve turned into a useless old fellow! This, Chili, is the signor’s work; offer him your compliments.” “The signorina will be greatly rejoiced,” said Chilina, “and she will be very much grieved to know you are wounded, Ors’ Anton’.” “Now then, Ors’ Anton’,” said the bandit, when he had finished binding up the wound. “Chilina, here, has caught your horse. You must get on his back, and come with me to the Stazzona _maquis_. It would be a sly fellow who’d lay his hand on you there. When we get to the Cross of Santa Christina, you’ll have to dismount. You’ll give over your horse to Chilina, who’ll go off and warn the signorina. You can say anything to the child, Ors’ Anton’. She would let herself be cut in pieces rather than betray her friends,” and then, fondly, he turned to the little girl, “That’s it, you little hussy; a ban on you, a curse on you--you jade!” For Brandolaccio, who was superstitious, like most bandits, feared he might cast a spell on a child if he blessed it or praised it, seeing it is a well-known fact that the mysterious powers that rule the _Annocchiatura_[*] have a vile habit of fulfilling our wishes in the very opposite sense to that we give them. [*] _Annocchiatura_, an involuntary spell cast either by the eye or by spoken words. “Where am I to go, Brando?” queried Orso in a faint voice. “Faith! you must choose; either to jail or to the _maquis_. But no della Rebbia knows the path that leads him to the jail. To the _maquis_, Ors’ Anton’.” “Farewell, then, to all my hopes!” exclaimed the wounded man, sadly. “Your hopes? Deuce take it! Did you hope to do any better with a double-barrelled gun? How on earth did the fellows contrive to hit you? The rascals must have been as hard to kill as cats.” “They fired first,” said Orso. “True, true; I’d forgotten that!--_piff, piff--boum, boum_! A right and left, and only one hand! If any man can do better, I’ll go hang myself. Come! now you’re safely mounted! Before we start, just give a glance at your work. It isn’t civil to leave one’s company without saying good-bye.” Orso spurred his horse. He would not have looked at the two poor wretches he had just destroyed, for anything on earth.