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Irving, Washington, 1783-1859

"Tales of a Traveller"

I remained silent, however,
and endeavored to maintain a look of tranquillity.
For an hour was I kept in this state of peril and anxiety. The robbers,
crouching among their leafy coverts, kept an eagle watch upon the
carabiniers below, as they loitered about the inn; sometimes lolling
about the portal; sometimes disappearing for several minutes, then
sallying out, examining their weapons, pointing in different directions
and apparently asking questions about the neighborhood; not a movement
or gesture was last upon the keen eyes of the brigands. At length we
were relieved from our apprehensions. The carabiniers having finished
their refreshment, seized their arms, continued along the valley
towards the great road, and gradually left the mountain behind them. "I
felt almost certain," said the chief, "that they could not be sent
after us. They know too well how prisoners have fared in our hands on
similar occasions. Our laws in this respect are inflexible, and are
necessary for our safety. If we once flinched from them, there would no
longer be such thing as a ransom to be procured."
There were no signs yet of the messenger's return. I was preparing to
resume my sketching, when the captain drew a quire of paper from his
knapsack--"Come," said he, laughing, "you are a painter; take my
likeness. The leaves of your portfolio are small; draw it on this." I
gladly consented, for it was a study that seldom presents itself to a
painter.


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