“I give; I never lend,” said the prince.
“And I borrow or I steal—I never beg,” replied Bruno; “take back your purse, my lord, I shall address myself to Prince Ventimille, or to Prince de la Cattolica.”
“Well, let it be so,” said the prince; “I never met with a more capricious bandit: four rascals like you would drive me mad; so I shall leave. Farewell!”
“Adieu, my lord!” said Bruno, “and may St Rosalie protect you.”
The prince departed, with his hands in the pockets of his buckskin waistcoat, and whistling a favourite air; Bruno remained motionless watching his departure, and it was not until he had lost sight of him that he, on his side, retired, heaving a deep sigh.
The next day, the innkeeper whose house had been burned down received, by the hands of Ali, the Prince of Butera’s three hundred ounces of gold.
CHAPTER IV.—THE ROBBER’S CASTLE.
Some time after the event we have just related, Bruno learnt that a convoy of money, escorted by four gens-d’armes and a brigadier was about to leave Messina for Palermo; it was the ransom of the Prince Moncada Paterno; which, in consequence of a financial operation, which did great honour to the imagination of Ferdinand the Fourth, had just helped to swell the Neapolitan budget instead of increasing the treasure of Casuba, according to its first destination.
The following is the history of the transaction, as it was told me in Sicily, and, as it is as curious as it is authentic, we think it deserves the trouble of being told; besides, it will give some idea of the simple manner in which taxes are imposed in Sicily.