Who could suggest a feasible plan?
“I,” said a man, stepping forward into the midst of the council, which was held in the open piazza. “If you’ll follow my advice, and accept my guidance, I think I can put you in the way you want. Besides rescuing the daughter of the worthy sindico here, you may capture the whole of Corvino’s band—with whom for many months I have been unwillingly compelled to associate.”
“Tommaso!” exclaimed the sindico, recognising his old retainer.
“Dio Santo!” cried the leader of the Revolutionists, seeing before him a man known as having suffered in the good cause—a victim of the Vatican, who had preferred brigandage to rotting in a Roman prison. “Signor Tommaso, is it you?”
“It is I, Captain Rossi; thank heaven, no longer compelled to skulk away among the hills and conceal myself from the sight of old friends, herding, as I have done, with the vilest scum of mankind; thank heaven and Giuseppe Mazzini! Long live the Republic!”
A general shaking of hands between Tommaso and the volontieri succeeded, many of the latter being old acquaintances, who had known him during his residence in the city of Rome.
Not less friendly was the grasp given by the young Englishman, who was now certain that his mysterious correspondent, the donor of the knife, was no other than Tommaso. But there was no time to be wasted in idle congratulations. It was not the occasion for them, with a cloud still hanging over their hearts, and Tommaso was not the man to need prompting.
“Follow me,” he said, speaking to Rossi, the sindico, and his son. “I know a way by which we can reach the place without being seen, and before sunset if need be. But they will not get home until midnight; and, by that time, we shall have them all in a trap—completely surrounded, and leaving no loophole of escape. Now, we must start at once. There is no time to linger; for the path we are to take is long and difficult.”
None hesitated to accept his proposal, or sought further explanation; and in less than ten minutes after, the Republican volontieri, leaving sufficient of their number to guard their soldier-prisoners, marched out of Val di Orno. They took their way towards the Neapolitan frontier, under the guidance of Tommaso, still wearing the garb of a brigand.