The Duke replied, slowly and sullenly, and whatever he said had the effect of rousing the first speaker to fierce anger.

The American became curious.  He found a place where the leaves were thinner than elsewhere, and carefully pressing them apart looked through the opening.  Beyond was a clear space, well shaded and furnished with comfortable settles, tables and chairs.  It adjoined a wing of the dwelling, which stood but a few paces away and was evidently occupied by the women of the household.  The old Duchessa, her face still like a death mask but her eyes glittering with the brightness of a serpent’s, sat enthroned within a large chair in the center of a family group.  It was her sharp voice that had first aroused the American’s attention.  Opposite her sat the Duke, his thin face wearing an expression of gloom and dissatisfaction.  The child Tato occupied a stool at her father’s feet, and in the background were three serving women, sewing or embroidering.  Near the Duke stood the tall brigand known as Pietro.

Answering the old woman’s fierce tirade, Tato said: 

“It is foolish to quarrel in Italian.  The servants are listening.”

“Let us then speak in English,” returned the Duchessa.  “These are matters the servants should not gossip about.”

The Duke nodded assent.  Both Tato and her grandmother spoke easily the foreign tongue; the Duke was more uncertain in his English, but understood it perfectly.

“I am still the head of this family,” resumed the Duchessa, in a more moderate tone.  “I insist that my will be obeyed.”

“Your dignity I have the respect for,” replied the Duke, laboredly; “but you grow old and foolish.”

“Foolish!  I?”

“Yes; you are absurd.  You live in past centuries.  You think to-day we must do all that your ancestors did.”

“Can you do better?”

“Yes; the world has change.  It has progress.  With it I advance, but you do not.  You would murder, rob, torture to-day as the great Duke, your grandfather, did.  You think we still are of the world independent.  You think we are powerful and great.  Bah! we are nothing—­we are as a speck of dust.  But still we are the outlaws and the outcasts of Sicily, and some day Italy will crush us and we will be forgotten.”

“I dare them to molest us!”

“Because you are imbecile.  The world you do not know.  I have travel; I see many countries; and I am wise.”

“But you are still my vassal, my slave; and I alone rule here.  Always have you rebelled and wanted to escape.  Only my iron will has kept you here and made you do your duty.”

“Since you my brother Ridolfo killed, I have little stomach for the trade of brigand.  It is true.  But no longer is this trade necessary.  We are rich.  Had I a son to inherit your business, a different thought might prevail; but I have only Tato, and a girl cannot be a successful brigand.”