After committing this act Testalunga fled to a church, where he stayed until nightfall. But deeming it necessary to take other measures for the future, he decided to join a small group of bandits who had recently taken refuge high up on Etna. There he went, and the group acknowledged him as their leader.

At that time Etna had just spewed out a vast quantity of lava. Testalunga established his band in the midst of those fiery torrents in a hiding-place the access to which was known only to him. After he had seen to his own safety, that brave leader wrote to the viceroy to ask him for a pardon for himself and his companions. The government refused, fearing, I suppose, that their authority would be compromised.

So Testalunga negotiated with the principal farmers in the neighbouring district. ‘Let us all steal together,’ he said. ‘I shall come and ask you for things, you will let me have what you will and you will still be blameless in the eyes of your masters.’

It was still stealing, but Testalunga shared everything with his companions and kept back for himself only what he absolutely needed. On the other hand, whenever he passed through a village he paid twice the proper price for everything, so that he soon became the idol of the people of the two Sicilies.

I have already told you that some of my father’s band had joined Testalunga, who for several years was based on the southern slopes of Mount Etna, from which he raided the Val di Noto and the Val di Mazara. But at the time of which I am now talking, that is, when I was fifteen years old, the band came back to the Val Demoni, and one fine day we saw it arrive at the monks’ farm.

In panache and brilliance Testalunga’s men surpassed by far anything you could imagine. They were dressed as for the fray in brigands’ clothes, with their hair in silk nets, belts bristling with pistols and daggers, long swords and long-barrelled guns. They stayed for three days, eating our chickens and drinking our wine. On the fourth they were informed that a detachment of dragoons from Syracuse was making towards them with a view to surrounding them. This news made them all laugh heartily. They set up an ambush in the sunken road, attacked the detachment and put it to flight. There were ten of them to every bandit but every bandit carried ten firearms all of the highest quality.

After this victory the bandits came back to our farm and I, having seen the fight from a distance, was so carried away with enthusiasm that I threw myself at their leader’s feet and begged him to take me into his band. Testalunga asked me who I was. I replied that I was a son of Zoto the bandit.

On hearing this much-loved name, all those who had served under my father shouted for joy. One of them carried me in his arms to a table and, placing me on it, said, ‘Comrades, Testalunga’s lieutenant has been killed in the fight and we are at a loss to replace him. Let little Zoto be our lieutenant. Haven’t we all seen the sons of dukes and princes put in charge of regiments? Let’s do for the son of Zoto the brave what is done for them. I’ll guarantee that he’ll prove worthy of this honour.’

This speech earned rousing applause for the speaker and I was elected unanimously.

My rank was no more than a joke at first, and all the bandits would burst out laughing when they called me ‘Signor tenente’, but they soon changed their tune. Not only did I always lead the attacks and was the last to cover the retreat, but no one could match me when it came to spying out the enemy’s movements and ensuring that the band was safe from attack. Sometimes I would climb on top of the rocks to overlook whole stretches of country and make the agreed signals. At other times, I would spend whole days in the very midst of our enemies. It often came about that I would stay all night up the tallest chestnut trees on Mount Etna and then, when I couldn’t keep awake any longer, I would tie myself to the branches with a strap. Such things were not difficult for me as I had been both a ship’s boy and a chimney sweep.

So well did I do that in the end I was entrusted with the overall security of the band. Testalunga loved me like a son and, if I may say so, I acquired a reputation which almost outshone his. The exploits of little Zoto became the talk of the two Sicilies. Such a reputation did not make me indifferent to the sweet pleasures of young men of my age. I have already told you that bandits were the heroes of the people. You can well imagine that the shepherdesses on Mount Etna would not have refused me their hearts. But mine was fated to yield to more delicate charms: love was reserving for me a more flattering conquest.

I had been a lieutenant for two years and had completed my seventeenth year of life when our band was forced to move south again because a new eruption had destroyed our usual hideouts. After four days’ journey we reached a castle called Rocca Fiorita, the fief and family seat of my enemy the principino.

I hardly ever thought any more about the insults I had suffered at his hands, but the name of the place brought back all my rancour. This should not surprise you, for in our climes hearts are implacable. If the principino had been in his castle, I believe I would have put it to fire and sword. But I confined myself to inflicting as much damage as I could, and my comrades, who knew why I was doing it, helped me to the best of their ability. The castle servants, who at first had put up some resistance, failed to resist the good wine of their master, which we caused to flow freely. They joined our side. In short we turned Rocca Fiorita into a land of plenty.

We lived in this way for five days. On the sixth our spies warned us that a whole Syracuse regiment was going to attack us and that afterwards the principino would arrive with his mother and ladies from Messina. I ordered my band to retreat but stayed behind myself out of curiosity. I settled myself down in the crown of a leafy oak which was at one end of the castle’s gardens, having taken the precaution of making a hole in the garden wall through which I could make good my escape.

I duly saw the regiment arrive and set up camp in front of the castle, having posted sentries all around. Then a procession of litters arrived with the ladies in front and the principino at the back, lying on a pile of cushions. He got down with difficulty, helped by two young gentlemen of his household, and ordered a company of soldiers to march on ahead. When he was sure that none of us had remained behind in the castle he went in himself with the ladies and some gentlemen of his retinue.

At the foot of my tree there was a freshwater spring, a marble table and some garden seats. It was the most ornamental part of the garden. I guessed that the party in the castle would not be long in coming there and decided to wait to get a better look at them. And indeed, after about half an hour, a young girl of about my age appeared. Angels are not more beautiful than she was. The impression she made on me was so sudden and so strong that I would have fallen from my tree if I had not attached myself to it with my belt, something I did from time to time in order to rest in greater safety.

The young girl’s eyes were cast down and she looked extremely dejected. She sat down on the seat, leaned over the marble table and wept copiously. Scarcely knowing what I was doing, I slid down the tree and positioned myself so that I could see her without being seen. Then I saw the principino approaching with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. It was nearly three years since I had last seen him. He had grown up. His face, while handsome, was somewhat weak.

When the young girl caught sight of him her expression betrayed a contempt for which I felt deeply grateful to her.

Meanwhile the principino, looking self-satisfied, came up to her and said, ‘My dear betrothed wife, here is a bouquet which is yours if you can promise never to mention that little wretch Zoto again.’

The young lady replied, ‘Your Highness, I think that you are wrong to attach conditions to your favours, and in any case, even if I were not to mention charming Zoto to you, your whole household would be talking to you about him. Did not your nurse even say that she had never seen such a pretty boy? And you were there at the time!’

The principino was stung by this and retorted, ‘Signora Sylvia, do not forget that you are my promised bride.’

Sylvia did not reply but burst into tears.

Then the principino flew into a rage and said, ‘You contemptible creature. Seeing that you are in love with a bandit, this is what you deserve.’ And with that, he slapped her face.

Then the young lady cried out, ‘Zoto, why aren’t you here to punish this coward?’

Scarcely had she uttered these words than I appeared and said to the prince, ‘You recognize me, I am sure. I am a bandit. I could kill you. But I respect the signora who has done me the honour of summoning me to her assistance. However, I am prepared to fight as you nobles do.’

I had two daggers and four pistols on me. I divided them up into two lots, set them ten paces apart and offered the choice of weapons to the principino. He meanwhile collapsed on a seat in a faint.

Sylvia then spoke and said, ‘Brave Zoto, I am of noble birth and poor. I was bound tomorrow to marry the prince or be sent to a convent. I shall do neither. I want to be yours for the rest of my life.’ And she threw herself in my arms.

As you can well imagine, I needed no persuading, but I had to stop the prince from impeding our flight. I took a dagger and, using a stone as a hammer, I nailed his hand to the seat on which he was sitting. He screamed and fainted again.

We escaped through the hole that I had made in the wall and reached the high mountains.

All my comrades had mistresses and they were delighted that I should have found one. Their ladies swore complete obedience to mine.

I had lived with Sylvia for four months when I was forced to leave her to reconnoitre the area to the north, which had been changed by the last eruption. During this journey I found in nature delights that I had not noticed before. I saw grassy meadows, grottoes, and shady groves where before I had only seen places for ambushes or defensive positions. Sylvia had at last softened the heart of a brigand, but that heart was soon to regain all its ferocity.

I returned from my journey to the north of the mountain. I say the mountain because Sicilians always say ‘il Monte’, meaning the mountain par excellence when speaking of Etna. I made my way towards what we call the Philosopher’s Tower¹ but could not reach it. A chasm which had opened up on the side of the volcano had belched forth a lava flow which had divided into two just above the tower and come back together about a mile below it, forming a completely inaccessible island.

I realized at once the value of this position. Moreover, we had a store of chestnuts in the tower which I did not want to lose. I eventually located, after much searching, an underground passage which I used on other occasions and which led me to the foot of the tower, or rather right inside it. I at once decided to install all our womenfolk on this island. I had huts built out of foliage and made one as attractive as I could. Then I went south again and brought the whole colony back with me. They were delighted with their new refuge.

Now, when I think back to the time I passed in that happy place, it seems to me an island in the middle of the cruel tempests which have assailed my life. Rivers of fire separated us from the rest of mankind. Our senses were inflamed by fires of love. All obeyed my orders and all were subject to my dear Sylvia; and to crown my happiness my two brothers came to join me. They both had had interesting adventures, and I think I can assure you that if you wanted ever to hear an account of them you would derive more satisfaction from theirs than you have from mine.

Few men cannot count some days of perfect happiness, but I do not know whether any can count happiness in years. Mine did not last one whole year. The members of my band behaved honourably towards each other and none would even so much as look at the mistress of another, still less at mine. Jealousy was therefore banished from our island, or rather it was in temporary exile. For that fury can all too easily find a way to places where love dwells.

A young bandit called Antonino fell in love with Sylvia. His was so strong a passion that he could not hide it. I myself noticed it, but seeing that he was very sad I supposed that my mistress had given him no ground for hope and so was not concerned about it. But I would have liked to cure Antonino because I liked him for his courage. There was another member in the band, called Moro, whom I hated on the other hand for his cowardice. If Testalunga had listened to me, he would have driven him out long before then.

Moro wormed his way into the confidence of young Antonino and promised to serve him in his love. He also managed to persuade Sylvia to listen to him, and he made her believe that I had a mistress in the neighbouring village. Sylvia was afraid to bring the matter up with me but she began to act in an unnatural way, which I attributed to a change in her feelings for me. Meanwhile Antonino, on Moro’s advice, had increased his attentions to Sylvia and went around with a satisfied air, which suggested to me that she was making him happy.

I had had no experience in dealing with intrigues of this sort, so I stabbed Sylvia and Antonino to death. The latter, who did not the at once, revealed Moro’s treachery to me. I sought out the wretch, my bloody dagger still in my hand. The sight of this terrified him. He fell to his knees and confessed that the Prince of Rocca Fiorita had paid him to do away with Sylvia and me and that he had joined my band with the intention of accomplishing that end. I stabbed him to death. Then I went to Messina and, having gained access to the principino’s house by means of a disguise, I dispatched him to the other world to join his henchman and my two other victims. Such was the end of my happiness and also of my glory. My courage now turned into an utter indifference for my own life, and as I manifested the same indifference for the lives of my comrades, I soon lost their trust. Since then I have become, I can assure you, the most ordinary of brigands.

Soon after, Testalunga died of pleurisy and his whole band broke up. My brothers, who knew Spain well, persuaded me to go there. At the head of a dozen men I went down to the Bay of Taormina and hid for three days. On the fourth we snatched a vessel, a snow, which carried us to the shores of Andalusia.

Although in Spain there was more than one mountain range which might have offered us favourable hiding-places, I chose the Sierra Morena and have not had cause to regret my decision. I captured two convoys of piastres and was responsible for a number of other feats on this scale.

In the end my successes caused offence at court. The Governor of Cadiz was ordered to take us dead or alive and sent out several regiments. But from another quarter the Sheikh of the Gomelez invited me to enter his service and allowed me to use these caves as a hiding-place. I had no hesitation in accepting.

The court in Granada did not want to admit defeat. So, seeing that we could not be found, it had two shepherds from the valley arrested, and hanged them under the names of Zoto’s two brothers. I was acquainted with the two men and know that they had committed several murders. It is said, however, that they were vexed at being hanged in our stead and that at night they get down from the gallows and cause all sorts of mischief. I have not been witness to this and do not know what comment to make about it. However, it is true that I have had occasion to go by the gallows at night, and when the moon has been out, I have noted that the hanged men were no longer there although by morning they had reappeared.

And that, my dear sirs, is the story you asked of me. I believe that my brothers, whose lives have not been so wild, would have more interesting tales to tell you, but they will not have the time as we are ready to embark and I have had firm orders that this should take place tomorrow morning.

Supper was mournful and I hastened to say good-night to my cousins, for I hoped to see them again in my bedchamber and to be more successful in dispelling their melancholy.

They came back earlier than usual, and to my great delight carried their belts in their hands. The meaning of this gesture was not difficult to grasp. Emina took the trouble to explain it to me.

She said, ‘Dear Alphonse, you have set no limit to your loyalty to us. We wish to set no limit to our gratitude. We may be parted for ever. For other women this would be a reason to refuse you their favours. But we wish to live on in your memory, and even if the women whom you will meet in Madrid surpass us in beauty of mind or face, at least you will not find that they outdo us in love and passion. But you must renew your oath never to betray us, dear Alphonse, and swear also that whatever ill is said of us you will not believe it.’

I could not help laughing at this last request but promised what they wished and was rewarded with the sweetest caresses.

Then Emina continued, ‘My dear Alphonse, the relic around your neck bothers us. Couldn’t you take it off for a little while?’

I refused, but Zubeida had a pair of scissors in her hand and, holding them behind my neck, cut the ribbon from behind. Emina seized the relic and threw it into a crevice in the rock.

‘You can get it back tomorrow,’ she declared. ‘Meanwhile, put this tress of hair around your neck. It has been woven from my hair and that of my sister and the talisman which is attached to it wards off inconstancy in lovers, if anything is capable of doing such a thing.’

Then Emina pulled out a gold pin which held her hair in place and used it to close up the curtains around my bed tight together.

I shall do as she did and draw a veil over the rest of this scene. You need only know that my charming companions became my wives. There are doubtless cases where it is a crime violently to shed innocent blood, but there are others where such cruelty enhances innocence by making it appear in all its lustre. That is what happened to us. And I am led to conclude that my cousins played no real part in my dreams at the Venta Quemada.

Eventually our passions were spent and we lay peacefully together, when a fateful bell began to strike midnight. I could not repress a shiver of horror, and said to my cousins that I feared that some sinister event hung over us.

‘I fear so, too,’ said Emina. ‘The danger is near. But listen carefully to what I am now saying to you. Do not believe any ill that is spoken of us. Do not even believe the evidence of your eyes.’

At that moment the curtains of my bed were ripped open and I saw a man of majestic height standing there in Moorish dress. In one hand he held the Koran, in the other a sabre. My cousins threw themselves at his feet and said:

‘Oh mighty Sheikh of the Gomelez, forgive us.’

The sheikh replied in a terrible voice, ‘Adonde están los fajas?’² Then he turned to me and said, ‘Damn you, Christian wretch. You have dishonoured the blood of the Gomelez. You must become a Muslim or die.’

I heard a ghastly howl and caught sight of Pacheco the demoniac making signs at me from the corner of the room. My cousins also saw him, and in a terrible rage they got up, took hold of him and dragged him out of the room.

‘Miserable Nazarene,’ continued the Sheikh of the Gomelez, ‘drink at a single draught the liquid contained in this cup or you will die a shameful death and your body will hang between those of Zoto’s brothers; it will be prey to the vultures and the plaything of the infernal spirits who will use it for their diabolical charades.’

It seemed to me that in such circumstances honour dictated that I should commit suicide. I cried out in anguish, ‘Oh father, in my place you would have done as I did.’

Then I took the cup and drained it at one draught. I felt a terrible pain and lost consciousness.