"Foolish girl! Do you suppose we are going to break the laws and get into trouble? No, no. Come, go home with Ricardo. I'm going to the city." Ricardo came forward, and Pepita allowed herself to be led away. When she was out of sight and hearing Luigi approached Dick. Amid the gloom Dick did not see the wrath and hate that might have been on his face, but the tone of his voice was passionate and menacing. He prepared for the worst. "That is my sister.--Wretch! what did you mean?" "I swear--" "Peace! We will give you cause to remember her." Dick saw that words and excuses were useless. He thought his hour had come. He resolved to die game. He hadn't a pistol. His manoeuvre of putting his hand in his pocket was merely intended to deceive. The Italians thought that if he had one he would have done more than mention it. He would at least have shown it. He had stationed himself under a tree. The men were before him. Luigi rushed at him like a wild beast. Dick gave him a tremendous blow between his eyes that knocked him headlong. "You can kill me," he shouted, "but you'll find it hard work!" Up jumped Luigi, full of fury; half a dozen others rushed simultaneously at Dick. He struck out two vigorous blows, which crashed against the faces of two of them. The next moment he was on the ground. On the ground, but striking well-aimed blows and kicking vigorously. He kicked one fellow completely over. The brutal Italians struck and kicked him in return. At last a tremendous blow descended on his head. He sank senseless. When he revived it was intensely dark. He was covered with painful bruises. His head ached violently. He could see nothing. He arose and tried to walk, but soon fell exhausted. So he crawled closer to the trunk of the tree, and groaned there in his pain. At last he fell into a light sleep, that was much interrupted by his suffering. He awoke at early twilight. He was stiff and sore, but very much refreshed. His head did not pain so excessively. He heard the trickling of water near, and saw a brook. There he went and washed himself. The water revived him greatly. Fortunately his clothes were only slightly torn. After washing the blood from his face, and buttoning his coat over his bloodstained shirt, and brushing the dirt from his clothes, he ventured to return to the city. He crawled rather than walked, often stopping to rest, and once almost fainting from utter weakness. But at last he reached the city, and managed to find a wine-cart, the only vehicle that he could see, which took him to his lodgings. He reached his room before any of the others were up, and went to bed. [Illustration: An Interruption.] CHAPTER XXVII. DICK ON THE SICK LIST.--RAPTURE OF BUTTONS AT MAKING AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY.