With a heavy clanking sound, a robber threw down on the ground an old pair of shackles, red with rust, which had, probably at some remote period, been worn by one of the band. Matteo pointed with his coarse finger to Horace—a significant action which required no explanation. As the fetters were being fastened over the slender ankles of the youth, the chief bade Enrico take charge of the prisoner, for whose safety he should answer with his own.
Then followed a division of the spoil. Mrs. Cleveland's dressing-case and desk were forced open with a dagger—the contents of her purse counted out, the various articles of her luggage placed in separate heaps. Reserving almost all the gold for himself, Matteo distributed his booty.
Most of the robbers looked discontented, but not one dared to utter a murmur. Horace saw with bitter emotion his mother's most valued trinkets in these rude hands; the Maltese cross which he himself had given, the mourning brooch with his father's hair, nay, the very wedding ring which had united his parents, were profaned by the touch of fingers which might be stained with murder. These papers, some of them priceless to her who had once owned them, were thrown away or trampled underfoot.
Matteo beckoned Enrico to some little distance, apparently to give him some orders, and their departure seemed to be the signal for more unrestrained and lawless mirth. Then also the murmurs which had been checked by the presence of the dreaded chief broke out amongst such of the band as had been disappointed in their share of the plunder.
"What am I to make of trumpery like this?" exclaimed one robber, holding up to view with great contempt a silver gray cloak with a hood, a black gown, a lace-trimmed parasol, and a fan!
His appeal was answered by a roar of laughter.
"You may set up for a gentlewoman, Beppo!" shouted one.
"My share matches yours," laughed another, "you've the dress, and I've the dressing-case!"
"Ay, with silver tops to all the bottles," growled Beppo. "I'll make an exchange if you will."
The offer was only received with a louder burst of merriment, and the disappointed Beppo turned fiercely towards Horace.