2.
He awakened gradually, and with a growing sense of tranquillity. The cave was brightening in the light of another dawn. Outlined against the sky and framed in the circle of the doorway he saw the superb figure of Angelo Rocco. The bandit turned and greeted him.
“A moment ago,” he said, “I saw a shadow moving at the edge of the pine wood. Ha! there it is again.”
He snatched up a rifle and fired.
“There! that will frighten him, whoever he is. If he means no harm, let him come out into the open. Now I will give you some breakfast. My friends keep me supplied with food from the city. I shoot game, but once in a while it is good to eat civilized food.”
They had a breakfast of coffee, bacon and bread. Afterwards they smoked, and Rocco talked. Hugh watched him in admiration. Never had he seen such a perfect man. He was tall, strong and springy as a panther. He had ebony black hair, and a clipped beard and moustache, which did not conceal the strength and character of his face. His fine lips had a haughty twist and his dark eyes were full of stormy fire. He moved with grace, carrying himself like a king.
“You must stay here for some days,” he told Hugh. “Rest your nerves. I am glad of a guest. With me you will be safe.”
He rose, looked keenly over the mountain side, then came slowly back.
“I see no more shadows. For a time at least we have driven off your wolves. Who are they?”
Hugh gave an account of the fight at the inn. When he came to the death of Pascal, Rocco’s face grew dark.