"The chief, doffing his hat, fell upon his knees and thanked the Most High for his conversion and that of his whole band, in which prayer all the rest reverently joined. Then rising from their knees, but with heads still uncovered, they walked on towards the convent, singing an 'Ave Maria,' by the way. "I did not know what to make of all this, for as yet I had heard nothing of the miracle, but I had hardly reached home safely with my pig, when I heard from almost every mouth in the village of the great miracle wrought on the night of the robbery." The peasant having concluded his narrative, was dismissed with an assurance from the arch-priest that should his revelation lead to the capture of the brigands he would be duly rewarded. Nevertheless, he informed him that he was not the person to apply to, and that he should mention the affair to the authorities. Being left once more alone with my friend, I asked him what he thought of the man's tale, and whether or no it corroborated the statements made by Luigi and Antonio. All three witnesses bore testimony to a plurality of brigands, which seemed to me completely to overthrow my worthy friend's hypothesis as to there being only one brigand. I confess, though, I was still puzzled by the peasant's wonderful story. I could hardly bring myself to believe in the utter and simultaneous conversion of a whole band of brigands, even though they _had_ been terrified and thwarted for a moment in their crimes by an apparent miracle, and yet what object could the man have had in inventing such a lie, knowing, as he must have done, that he was not entitled to the reward until after the capture of the brigands. My friend the priest suggested that possibly he might have been fool enough to expect payment beforehand, and that he had concocted this fable on the strength of it. The man was simple enough, it is true, but there was an air of truth about the manner in which he told his tale that induced me to give credit to it, strange though it appeared. In any case, I knew that the truth or falsity of the man's statement would soon be made manifest, for the brigand-catchers, once sent off in the direction indicated by the peasant, would not fail to call at the convent and inquire if the brigands were taking shelter there, in which case the monks would be forced to deliver up their charge into the hands of justice. As it happened, the brigand-catchers had already started in search of their prey, though in quite an opposite direction. But let us return to our landlady, who had been impatiently awaiting me, having now prepared my noon-day meal some time. "The signor is late to-day," she said, as I entered. "I fear he will find the macaroni cold." "No matter," I replied. "I have a good appetite, from having been very busy all the morning." "The signor has been busy--yes? And yet I notice that he left all his painting tools at home," observed the landlady.