"Poor Castro-Reale, poor captain, poor fellow!" continued the Capuchin, baring his head and extending his arm in the direction of a great black rock which lay on the brink of the stream about fifty feet below the road. "May God, who is inexhaustible mercy and infinite kindness, forgive the errors of your life, as I forgive the sorrow you caused me! I no longer remember aught save your years of valor; your noble deeds, your lofty sentiments, and the ardent aspirations which we shared. God will not be more severe than a poor fellow like me, will he, Michel?" "I do not believe in the everlasting resentment of the supreme and perfect Being who governs the world," replied the young man. "But let us go on, uncle; I am cold here, and I prefer to confess the strange weakness that I feel rather than remain an instant longer at the foot of this cross. I am afraid!" "I had rather see you tremble than laugh in this spot!" replied the monk. "Come, give me your hand, and let us go on." They walked for some time in silence; then Fra Angelo, as if he wished to divert Michel's thoughts, continued thus: "After the death of the _Destatore_, many people, women especially,--for he had seduced more than one--hurried to his hiding-place, hoping to obtain possession of what money he might have left there for the children whose father he was, or was supposed to be; but on the very morning of his suicide he had taken the booty remaining from his last expeditions and carried it to that one of his mistresses whom he loved best, or, to speak more accurately, whom he hated least; for, although he had many flames, he inspired even more, and all those women, forming a sort of ambulatory harem, annoyed and irritated him beyond measure. They all wanted him to marry them, for they did not know that he was married. Melina, of Nicolosi, alone never burdened him with her reproaches or her demands. She had loved him sincerely; she had abandoned herself to him without resistance and without ulterior motives; she had given him a son whom he preferred to the twelve or fifteen bastards who were reared under his name among the mountains. Most of those bastards are still living, and boast, rightly or wrongly, that they belong to him. All are brigands to a greater or less extent. But the one whom the _Destatore_ never denied, who resembles him in every feature, although his is a much reduced and blurred impression of the father's masculine and energetic beauty; the one who has grown to manhood with the design of succeeding to his work, with protection and resources to which the others can lay no claim, that one is the son of Melina, the young man whom we shall see very soon; he is the leader of the brigands to whom I have referred, some of whom are, as a matter of fact, his brothers; finally, he is the man whom you are to know under his true name, Carmelo Tomabene, who is also known as _The Piccinino_."