'I will show you the way,' said the brigand, slinging his rifle on his shoulder.
'I know the way perfectly,' answered Tebaldo. 'Pray do not trouble yourself.'
'It is a pleasure,' returned the other, and he cleared the little stream at a bound.
Tebaldo guessed that he was not altogether trusted even now. As the man walked up the hill he whistled softly, and in a few moments, emerging from the brush into a little clearing, Tebaldo saw the Moscio waiting for him. It was dusky under the trees, but Tebaldo could see the pleasant smile on the girlish face. The Moscio had his rifle under his arm, and was smoking a cigarette. The man who had led Tebaldo to the spot disappeared into the brush, returning to his post by the stream. Tebaldo dismounted.
'Have you met anyone?' enquired the outlaw shaking hands.
'No,' answered Tebaldo, 'not since I left the high-road.'
He had reflected that he had done unwisely in not turning back with the carabineers and riding with them as far as the road, in order to disarm any possible suspicions, and he knew that the Moscio would think so too. He should, if necessary, have even waited till the next day before coming up to the camp, but his anxiety to see the knife safe in the Moscio's possession had outweighed everything else.
'So much the better,' answered the outlaw, unsuspiciously. 'By the bye, here is your knife. Is this it?'
He held it out to Tebaldo, who took it eagerly, his fingers closing round the sheath, as though he were afraid of dropping it. He breathed hard between his teeth once or twice, as he looked at it in sheer satisfaction.