Among these was a certain young gentleman, a man of fortune and courage—a captain of militia in his own town, which stood upon the summit of a high and precipitous mountain. His name was Capobianco (white-head) and, at the time when he came to the notice of the authorities, they had discovered the trafficking of the society with Lord William, who had been sending across volumes containing the new Sicilian laws which had been enacted in that island, under the Bourbons, or, to speak more accurately, had been forced upon the Bourbons by Lord William, under pain of being left to look after themselves and being compelled to fight for their own possessions. The conspirators must have been a simple-minded people, if they really believed that Ferdinand had promulgated anything of the kind without compulsion. Lord William promised the Neapolitans a similar code, if they would only restore Ferdinand—Lord William was always rather free with his promises—and the Government of Naples, finding the horrid thing in their midst, proscribed the society and threatened with most dreadful punishments any one who mentioned the word constitution. Whereupon the Carbonari dropped down into Calabria and proceeded to shout it aloud, among them young Capobianco. As it has been said, his town was practically inaccessible, so that, despairing of his capture, General Janelli made a pretence of refusing to believe in his association with the Carbonari; after several ineffectual efforts to entrap him (for Capobianco had a native mistrust of authority under any guise save that of the Church), he one day invited him to dinner upon the occasion of a public festival in Cosenza. Capobianco hesitated, but finally made up his mind to attend, feeling that he would be safe if he took unfrequented byways and surrounded himself with a dependable escort. He would feel safe, he told himself, in Cosenza, for he intended to arrive when the banquet should be already begun and leave before it was over, and, in the house of the General, he would be in the company of all of the authorities of the province, whose presence he seems to have conceived to be a safeguard, for some reason or another. So he went and was royally entertained. Healths were drunk, compliments were exchanged, and Capobianco proposed to depart, followed by the salutations of the General. He got no further than the ante-room, though, where the gendarmes were waiting for him. They seized him and dragged him off to prison, where the next morning he was tried by a military commission, condemned, and publicly beheaded before mid-day in the Square. When this was bruited abroad, some of the “patriots” fled to Sicily and the Bourbons, to breathe, as we are told, “the free atmosphere of Sicily under the Bourbons!” and Joachim’s unpopularity began to assume the proportions of a menace.