Abellino whistled a second time.
"'Tis he," he could hear one of them say distinctly, and in a moment
after they advanced slowly towards him.
Abellino kept his place, but unsheathed his sword. The three
unknown (they were masked) stopped a few paces from him.
"How now, fellow!" quoth one of them; "what is the matter? Why
stand you on your guard?"
Abellino.--It is as well that you should be made to keep your
distance, for I know you; you are certain honest gentlemen, who live
by taking away the lives of others.
The First Ruffian.--Was not your whistling addressed to us?
Abellino.--It was.
A Ruffian.--And what would you with us?
Abellino.--Hear me! I am a miserable wretch, and starving; give me
an alms out of your booty!
A Ruffian.--An alms? Ha! ha! ha! By my soul that is whimsical!--
Alms from us, indeed!--Oh, by all means! No doubt, you shall have
alms in plenty.
Abellino.--Or else give me fifty sequins, and I'll bind myself to
your service till I shall have worked out my debt.
A Ruffian.--Aye? and pray, then, who may you be?
Abellino.--A starving wretch, the Republic holds none more
miserable. Such am I at present; but hereafter--I have powers,
knaves. This arm could pierce a heart, though guarded by three
breastplates; this eye, though surrounded by Egyptian darkness,
could still see to stab sure.
A Ruffian.--Why, then, did you strike me down, even now?
Abellino.--In the hope of being paid for it; but though I saved his
life, the scoundrel gave me not a single ducat.
A Ruffian.--No? So much the better. But hark ye, comrade, are you
sincere?
Abellino.--Despair never lies.
A Ruffian.--Slave, shouldst thou be a traitor Abellino.--My heart would be within reach of your hands, and your
daggers would be as sharp as now.
The three dangerous companions again whispered among themselves for
a few moments, after which they returned their daggers into the
sheath.
"Come on, then," said one of them, "follow us to our home. It were
unwise to talk over certain matters in the open streets."
"I follow you," was Abellino's answer, "but tremble should any one
of you dare to treat me as a foe. Comrade, forgive me that I gave
your ribs somewhat too hard a squeeze just now; I will be your sworn
brother in recompense."
"We are on honour," cried the banditti with one voice; "no harm
shall happen to you. He who does you an injury shall be to us as a
foe. A fellow of your humour suits us well; follow us, and fear
not."