Fra Angelo, the young Prince of Castro-Reale, and the faithful Magnani also arrived, to direct the expedition, the first as leader, for he knew the country generally and the particular locality better than anyone, having once before carried the paltry stronghold by assault under the _Destatore_, in better days; the other two as lieutenants, young noblemen of the patriotic party, forced to conceal their identity, but rich and powerful. So said Fra Angelo, who knew well that both poetry and prose are essential to stimulate men who are fighting against the laws. When Fra Angelo and his friends left their mules, to plunge in among the steep cliffs of Sperlinga, they were able to count their men, and found that there were about twenty peasants posted here and there at some little distance--prudent auxiliaries who would come to their assistance as soon as the chances of war seemed to favor them; revengeful and bloodthirsty men, who had suffered many and grievous wrongs which they longed to avenge upon their enemies, and who knew how to do justice speedily and pitilessly when there was not too great a risk to be run. Nevertheless, a part of the band was beginning to show signs of demoralization when the monk arrived. The lieutenant of the _campieri_, who had charge of the prisoners, had sent to Castro-Giovanni during the day to request reinforcements, which were likely to arrive with the dawn. This officer was disturbed by the non-appearance of the Swiss, whom he was awaiting with great impatience. The spirit manifested by the surrounding population did not tend to allay his fears. Perhaps he had detected some signs of activity among the brigands in the mountain, and of their evident understanding with certain people in the village. However that may be, he was afraid--which fact the monk looked upon as a pledge of victory--and he issued orders for departure on the following day, preferring, he said to see a miserable wretch like the Piccinino die on the highroad, rather than expose brave troops to the risk of being murdered in a fortress without gates or walls. Perhaps the officer knew enough Latin to read, over the gateway of the ancient Norman castle in which he was intrenched, the famous motto which French tourists go thither to contemplate with love and gratitude: _Quod Sicilis placuit, Sperlinga sola negavit_.[1] We know that Sperlinga was the only place which refused to surrender the Angevins at the time of the _Sicilian Vespers_. It is well enough for our compatriots to take pride therein; but it is certain that Sperlinga performed no act of patriotism; and that, if the officer of _campieri_ looked upon the then government as existing in compliance with the popular desire of Sicily, he must have seen, in the _negavit_ of Sperlinga, a constant threat which might well arouse a superstitious terror in his mind.[2]