"The recklessness of the outlaws was amazing. Robbery and extortion became more frequent, and thefts were committed with as cool determination as if the scoundrels held special licence from the King. At length the Minister of Police decided that such a state of things should no longer be allowed to continue. Hence it was that I found myself at the head of a company of Bersaglieri, scouring the mountains from Mont Blanc to Mont Rosa. After much fruitless search, we discovered that the stronghold of the bandits was a remarkable cave almost on the summit of the Cenis, at a point accessible only by a secret by-path. Having carefully laid our plans, we advanced to the attack early one morning. Unfortunately, the mountain afforded no cover, therefore our presence must have been immediately detected. Eventually, however, we battered down the door of their hiding-place, and entered. To our surprise, we found the cavern was an enormous one, and it took us a considerable time to explore its recesses. In the meantime, the occupants, whoever they were, must have escaped by another exit, for we never saw them, and they have not been apprehended to this day. In the cavern I found quantities of contraband goods stored, and every evidence of extensive smuggling. One discovery I made was indeed horrible, yet on closer investigation it proved as grimly humorous as the other incidents. Into a lower chamber I had descended with a light, and found, to my amazement, the body of a beautiful woman, who had evidently been kept a prisoner, and had died under harsh treatment. Apparently she had expired quite recently, for there were no signs of decomposition. At first I felt inclined to retreat, but the expression in the wide-open, staring eyes attracted my attention, and I bent and touched the face. It was clammy and cold, but quite hard. A portion of it came off in my hand. _Dio_! I had been deceived--it was of wax!" "Wax?" I cried, astonished. "Yes. Inquiries I subsequently made showed that a travelling waxwork show on its way across the frontier had been attacked a couple of years before, and among other things stolen was this wax figure. With cunning ingenuity, the contrabandists had contrived to transform the ruddy visage of a wax `Desdemona' into the pallid countenance of a corpse, which they placed upon a heap of filthy straw in the damp, dark lower chamber. Around its neck, for some reason unaccountable, they had placed a scarlet band, similar to that always worn by the Countess di Palermo to conceal a cicatrice. The object, I suppose, was to show the corpse to travellers, whom they entrapped in order to extort money from them by threatening to keep them in the Dantean dungeon, and starving them to death." "A most ingenious device," I said in abject astonishment. "The cave is now deserted, I suppose?"