In these times when Italian honor and glory are a mockery, the handful of men called brigands, who have for seven years sustained themselves against one large army, two other armies of carabiniers, a part of another army of national guards, and an entire hostile population--that handful of men, call them what you will, is at least brave. If you rulers, instead of maintaining the disgraceful institution of the priest, had occupied yourselves in securing the instruction of the people, these very brigands, instead of becoming the instruments of priestly reaction, would at this moment have been in our ranks, teaching us how one stout fellow can fight twenty. This, my kind word for the "honest" brigands, is not for the assassins, be it understood. And one little piece of comment upon you who sit in high places. When you assaulted the Roman walls--for religious purposes of course--robbing and slaying the poor people who thought you came as Mends, were you less brigands? No, you were worse than banditti--you were traitors. But you will tell me, "those were republicans and revolutionists, men who trouble the world." And what were you but troublers of the world, and false traitors? This difference exists between your majesties and the bandit: he robs, but seldom kills, while you have not only robbed, but stained your hands for plunder's sake in innocent blood! Pardon, reader, that this digression has left you in the midst of a funeral, and that the writer has too passionately diverged from his path to glance at brigandage on the large as well as the small scale. When the funeral party reached the cemetery, the remains of the dead were lowered into a grave, over which no voice spoke a word of eulogy. With all the will to effect good, the action of this young life had been cut short by a premature and rash death. What could be said of the blossom of noble qualities to which time was denied to bring forth their fruits? CHAPTER LXI. THE NARRATIVE We will leave our friends occupied in consoling the afflicted Irene for the loss of her brother, whom she had sincerely loved. The last of a proud race! This thought would press upon the mind of the fair lady, who, despite her willingness to form a plebeian alliance, still valued, as we have seen, the high rank of her family. Of the personal fortune which came to her through her brother's death she had not thought, for she was of too generous a nature to mingle an idea of interest with the life or death of a beloved object. The prince's family property, besides, which was in the Roman territory, had been confiscated by those worthy servants of God whose possessions are "not of this world." It was not until the friends had returned from the funeral that Attilio and Muzio had consulted with the General about imparting to his sister the knowledge of the fatal catastrophe. The General, calling Orazio and his wife into his room, then first informed them gently of the sad occurrence.