This, then, he thought, was what he had feared, and while trying to avoid the brigands, he had stumbled upon the chief of them all. In that formidable figure he recognized the true brigand style, and in that bearded face, with its bushy eyebrows and slouching hat, he saw what seemed to him, from that distance, like the ferocity of the implacable Fra Diavolo himself.
So overwhelmed was he, that for some time he could not move. At last he felt a wild impulse to fly. He started back, determining to seek his boat once more. So hurried was he that he was less cautious than before, and catching his foot in a long tendril of some creeper, he fell. In falling, he struck his hand against some cactus or other thorny plant, and the spine pierced his flesh, causing severe pain. In spite of himself a cry burst from him. The cry was instantly repressed, and David, raising himself, prepared to continue his retreat. But first he looked fearfully around to see whether his cry had discovered him.
As he did so his heart sunk within him.
The brigand chief had heard him!
He was walking straight towards him!
CHAPTER XIII.
David Captured.—The big, bluff, burly, brusque, bearded, broad-shouldered, beetle-browed Bully of a Brigand.—A terrific Inquisition.—David's Plea for Mercy.—The hard-hearted Captor and the trembling Captive.—A direful Threat.—David carried off helpless and despairing.—The Robber's Hold.
So this great, big, bluff, burly, brusque, bearded, broad-shouldered, beetle-browed brigand came straight towards the place where poor David was; walking with great strides; and David, seeing all hope lost, stood still, and awaited the arrival of his formidable enemy. The consciousness of his utter helplessness filled him with despair, and his ignorance of Italian put it out of his power to disarm the fury or deprecate the wrath of his fierce pursuer. In the few moments that intervened between the first discovery that he was seen and the arrival of his enemy, his brain was filled with confusion, and his bewildered thoughts turned helplessly to his friends whom he had left behind. He thought of their grief. He thought, too, of his home. He thought, of his mother. That home, those friends, that loving, mother, he now might never see again. Farewell, all dear ones! Farewell, bright past! Farewell, sweet life, and glad light of day! Such were the thoughts, gloomy and despairing, that filled his mind, and tormented his heart; and at the moment that his pursuer entered the grove and stood before him, David looked up with pale face and frightened eyes, and something like a sob escaped him.
The big, burly brigand stood before him, and eyed him from head to foot. He was very tall, and, indeed, to David he seemed gigantic, while his right hand held the rifle like a walking-stick. He looked at David in silence, and scanned him curiously all over; and David's eyes, which had at first sought those of his captor in timid entreaty, now sank before his stern gaze.
"Cosa volete?" said the brigand. "Donde venite?" in a deep voice.