One day Gouache, the artist Zouave, called at the castle.

He had been quartered at Subiaco with a part of his company, but had not been sent on at once to Saracinesca as he had expected.

Now, however, he had arrived with a small detachment of half-a-dozen men, with instructions to watch the pass.

There was nothing extraordinary in his being sent in that direction, for Saracinesca was very near the frontier, and lay on one of the direct routes to the Serra di Sant' Antonio, which was the shortest hill-route into the kingdom of Naples; the country around was thought to be particularly liable to disturbance, and though no one had seen a brigand there for some years, the mountain-paths were supposed to be infested with robbers.

As a matter of fact there was a great deal of smuggling carried on through the pass, and from time to time some political refugee found his way across the frontier at that point.
Gouache was received very well by Giovanni, and rather coldly by Corona, who knew him but slightly.
"I congratulate you," said Giovanni, noticing the stripes on the young man's sleeves; "I see that you have risen in grade." "Yes.