"A few, although sadly deteriorated. They are still ready to fight for their country, and they keep alive the last spark of the sacred flame. However, I ought to tell you that they are a sort of cross between the gallant fellows of long ago, who scrupulously refrained from taking a hair from the head of a good patriot, and the cutthroats of the present day, who kill and rob everyone they meet. These men discriminate when they can; but, as their business has become very bad, and as the police are more to be feared than in my time, they cannot always choose; so that I do not hold them up as beyond reproach; but, such as they are, they still have certain virtues which we should seek in vain elsewhere: fidelity to their oaths, remembrance of past services, the revolutionary spirit, love of country; in a word, all that remains of the chivalrous spirit of our old bands still casts a faint gleam in the hearts of a few poor fellows, who live by themselves, a half-sedentary, half-wandering life. That is to say, they are settled in villages or in the open country; they have their families there, and in some cases are supposed to be peaceable husbandmen, submissive to the law, and having no quarrel with the _campiere_.[2] If any of them are suspected, or, perhaps, involved in some trouble, they are more wary, do not go to see their wives or children except at night, or else remove their homes to some almost inaccessible location. But the man whom we are going to see is still free from any direct persecution. He lives openly in a neighboring village, and can go where he pleases. You will not regret having made his acquaintance, and I give you leave to study his character, for he is a very interesting and remarkable person." "Should I be too inquisitive if I asked you to tell me a little something about him beforehand?" "Certainly you ought to be told about him, and I will tell you. But it is a momentous secret to place in your keeping, Michel, and it makes it necessary for me to tell you another story. Do you know that I am going to place in your hands the fate of a man whom the police are hunting with all the energy and skill of which they are capable, and whose features and true name they have never succeeded in finding out in the six or seven years that have passed since he took up the _Destatore's_ work? Tell me, my boy, have you never heard of the _Piccinino_ and his band since you have been in Sicily?" "It seems to me that I have. Yes, yes, uncle, my sister Mila has some fantastic stories about this Piccinino, who is the principal subject of conversation among the young silk-weavers of Catania. He is a redoubtable brigand, they say, who kidnaps women and kills men at the very gates of the city. I have never believed these fables."