"There is some truth at the bottom of all the popular legends," rejoined the monk. "The Piccinino exists and plies his trade. There are two men in him--the man whom the _campieri_ pursue in vain, and the man whom no one dreams of suspecting. The man who leads hazardous expeditions and assembles, at a mysterious signal, all the _nottoloni_[3] of any consequence, scattered all over the island, to employ them in more or less worthy enterprises; and the man who lives not far from this place, in a pretty country house, free from all molestation, and with the reputation of an intelligent, peaceably disposed man, opposed to bloody strife and advanced opinions. Well, within an hour you will be in that man's presence, you will know his true name, you will know his features, and you will share with only two other persons outside of the band which he commands the responsibility of his secret. You see that I treat you as a man, my child, but one cannot realize the danger of another person until he has himself been exposed to it. Henceforth you will have to pay with your life for the slightest indiscretion, and, in addition, to commit something more than a dastardly act, a horrible crime, of which you will soon know the extent." "All these warnings are unnecessary, uncle; it is enough for me to know that it would be an abuse of confidence." "I believe it, and yet I am not so sure of your prudence that I do not feel that I must tell you everything which may increase it. Your father, Princess Agatha, perhaps your sister, and myself beyond any question--all of us--will have sacrificed life and honor for you, if you are false to the oath I require of you. Swear, therefore, upon all that you hold most sacred--upon the Holy Gospel--never to betray, even on the scaffold, the true name of the Piccinino." "I swear it, uncle. Are you satisfied?" "Yes." "And will the Piccinino have the same confidence in my oath that you have?" "Yes, although confidence is not a failing of his. But when I told him of your visit, I gave him guarantees which could not fail to satisfy him." "Very good! Now tell me what the relations are to be between this man and myself?" "Patience, boy! I promised you another story, and here it is: "The _Destatore_ having become addicted to wine in his last years----" "So the _Destatore_ is dead, is he, uncle? You did not tell me of his death."