Pedro, Giovanni, and the few remaining brigands then left the old man and the corpse together, and broached a cask of Falernian to drive away their terrors. In silver goblets they drank their late Captain's health; his quick delivery from purgatory; and vowed gold to purchase his redemption; as well as swore to avenge his death, if they got hold of the slayer; an important "if," for Adrian Vardarelli was esteemed a cunning man, who would not easily be taken. CHAPTER XIV. "His swarthy visage spake distress, But this might be from weariness; His garb with sanguine spots was dyed, But these might be from his courser's side; He drew the token from his vest * * Me, not from mercy did they spare, But this empurpled pledge to bear!"--_Giaour._ The sun was setting on the Apennines, bathing them in purple, as the postilion bearing the fatal news of the tragedy of Val di Bovino neared the outskirts of Foggia. Close to the road leading to Naples, the last of a row of villas, was the residence of the Earl of Wentworth. It was a small one compared to his villa at Naples; but sufficiently large to excite the attention of the traveller. Built on a gentle eminence, surrounded by orange groves bearing their golden burden, its front aspect faced the Apennines, embracing a fine view of the rich country around, as well as the immense _tavoliere_ of Apulia, the pasturage of numerous herds of cattle during the winter. On the balcony looking down the high road sat the Countess, now more matured in age than when we last saw her. She was still extremely handsome, and, in the opinion of many, her ripened beauty exceeded her girlish charms. She was somewhat more inclined to _embonpoint_ than of old, but had worn remarkably well, and still possessed the same luxuriant quantity of hair, more richly brown than ever; the same winning, soft blue eye; the same clear complexion. Her countenance was saddened, but affliction had not soured; and when she smiled her smile was sweet as ever. Time had lightly laid his touch on her; she scarce looked five-and-twenty, though she was half a dozen years older at least. A little distance from the Countess stood Lady Augusta, who was then past eleven. She was tall for her age, and built on a large scale; her eyes were her mother's, but her hair was very much fairer; her well-formed mouth betrayed the firmness of the De Veres. She was too young for us to judge of her character, or even what her appearance would yet be; but, if ever a mother's prayers and loving example are sure of a reward, doubtless Augusta would grow in beauty of mind and person all the Countess wished. "Augusta, love, is there no sign yet of our guests? Look if you can see the carriage. They should have been here long ago." "No, mamma dear, I see nothing. We shall hear the wheels first, for the orange-trees hide the turn in the road."