Franz and the count were compelled to advance stooping, and scarcely
able to proceed two abreast. They went on a hundred and fifty paces
thus, and then were stopped by—
"Who goes there?" At the same time they saw the reflection of a torch on the barrel of a carbine.
"A friend!" responded Peppino. And, advancing alone toward the sentry, he said a few words to him in a low tone; and then he, like the first, saluted the nocturnal visitors, making a sign that they might proceed.
Behind the sentinel was a staircase with twenty steps. Franz and the count descended these, and found themselves in a kind of square, forming a burial-ground. Five roads diverged like the rays of a star, and the walls, dug into niches, placed one above the other in the shape of coffins, showed that they were at last in the catacombs.
In one of the cavities, whose extent it was impossible to determine, some rays of light were visible. The count laid his hand on Franz's shoulder.
"Would you like to see a camp of bandits in repose?" he inquired.
"Exceedingly," replied Franz.
"Come with me, then. Peppino, extinguish the torch." Peppino obeyed, and Franz and the count were suddenly in utter darkness, only fifty paces in advance of them there played along the wall some reddish beams of light, more visible since Peppino had put out his torch.
They advanced silently, the count guiding Franz as if he had the singular faculty of seeing in the dark. Franz himself, however, distinguished his way more plainly in proportion as he advanced toward the rays of light, which served them for guides. Three arcades, of which the middle served as the door, presented themselves. These arcades opened on one side to the corridor, in which were the count and Franz, and on the other to a large square chamber, entirely surrounded by niches similar to those of which we have spoken.
In the midst of this chamber were four stones, which had formerly served as an altar, as was evident from the cross which still surmounted them. A lamp, placed at the base of a pillar, lighted up with its pale and flickering flame the singular scene which presented itself to the eyes of the two visitors concealed in the shadow.
A man was seated with his elbow leaning on the column, and was reading with his back turned to the arcades, through the openings of which the new-comers contemplated him. This was the chief of the band, Luigi Vampa. Around him, and in groups, according to their fancy, lying in their mantles, or with their backs against a kind of stone bench, which went all around the Columbarium, were to be seen twenty
