It was a cold and stormy night, and the brigands were waiting in the dell, and the Captain of the brigands said to Antonio, "Antonio, tell us a story that we may pass the time." Antonio took a deep breath. Pass the time was exactly what he intended to do, and his voice twittered a bit for he knew that the life of his beloved depended upon it. And so Antonio began:

It was a cold and stormy night, and the brigands were waiting in the dell, and the Captain of the brigands cast a glance at Antonio, noted the way he started and twitched. For Antonio was awaiting his opportunity to slip away from the band, to steal his beloved from the passing caravan and save her from the ambush his friends had plotted. But the Captain, too, was cunning. Certain he was that Antonio wasn't going anywhere, or warning anyone. He winked his eye – the one without the patch. "Tell us a story, Antonio," he said, "that we may pass the time." Antonio dared not let on that he had other plans for the evening. He swallowed hard and began the story:

It was a cold and stormy night, and the brigands were waiting in the dell, and the Captain of the brigands said, "Tell us a story, Antonio .... Antonio? ... Antonio, are you here?" He counted the shadowy outlines as they stood silhouetted in the moonlight against the wispy clouds. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Twelve only. Antonio was missing – gone to what mischief the Captain thought he knew. But the time would come to take care of that. In the meanwhile, the Captain himself filled in for Antonio, and recounted his tale:

It was a cold and stormy night, and the brigands were waiting in the dell, and the Captain of the brigands said, "Antonio, tell us a story that we may pass the time." And quick as a bandit's sword came Bernardo in reply. Bernardo? Yes, Bernardo spoke to cover for his brother. He knew that Antonio had slipped away into the night on a brave mission of love, and he hoped that in the dark of the storm Antonio would not be missed at least long enough to accomplish his task. So Bernardo began:
 
It was a cold and stormy night, and the brigands were waiting in the dell, waiting for the watchman's cry "Ho", that they would know of the caravan's approach. Antonio, their loyal companion, had been dispatched to the edge of the bluff, where he stood watching for the approach of the wealthiest merchant in Sicily, with his untold treasures from the orient – silk brocades, gold and jewels, spices and crafted ornaments – a thousand horses all told, each so laden with precious goods that they barely crest over the muddy road. It was a plum indeed to tempt a pirate's greedy eyes. But Antonio, brave Antonio's eyes were elsewhere turned. For this night he could think of naught but Marella, the merchant's fair daughter. Two long years had he waited while she traveled with the merchant to Persia. Now the memories of those secret moonlit evenings flooded his mind: Her fair features filled his eyes, and he could feel the touch of her sweetly perfumed skin upon his lips. His heart raced with anticipation. His excitement was mixed, however, with sadness. For he knew he must choose this night between his comrades and his one true love. He could keep his double life no longer, but to lose either was more than he could bear. He was a man torn in two.

How different would be his feeling if only he knew that his choice was no choice at all, that at the very moment that he stood paralyzed with ambivalence, watching for the caravan' s approach, his arch-rival Draco was preparing to betray him. In the thin guise of a brigands' tale, he would reveal Antonio's secret, that he might curry the Captain's favor. "Draco, tell us a story," the Captain suggested, "that we may pass the time." Draco squinted his small black eyes, rubbed his hands, and began his story:

It was a cold and stormy night, and the brigands were waiting in the dell, but one brigand there was who waited not. Unnoticed, he had passed into the night, and while his companions prepared for their evening's labors, he was racing to foil them, to warn the approaching caravan of the ambush that had been prepared. And why would he do this dastardly thing? Why betray his fellows? It was for a woman. The merchant who owned the caravan had a daughter, with features fair and eyes that mesmerized and lips that enticed, and our lone brigand was sick with love for her. Now he would swoop down and carry her off before...

"Stop!" the Captain cried. He had been still as a scarecrow while Draco was speaking, but inside the fury was building. His face was reddening, and now he exploded. "I, too, have a story to recount." And he began speaking to the spellbound brigands:

The Captain of this band was not always an outlaw. Once he was young and innocent. Rinaldo was his friend, Maria was his lover. They had nothing, and they cared for nothing. In the day, they worked when they could. When night came, they went to the tavern, and danced until the sun came up.

Then came the war . Hard times. There was no place to work, not a sou to be had Maria was with child. What could they do? There was yet one lord in the village, a chateau full of gold and silk and jewels. They crept by night over the wall, and in the morning they had more riches than they had seen in a lifetime.

Poverty is a chain that binds man to man. Gold is a wedge that drives friends apart. From that morning, they bickered, Rinaldo and he, over their wealth.

"Buy a donkey," said Rinaldo. "Buy wares that are scare in wartime. Later we shall sell them and make ourselves rich."

"Buy clothes and food and wine,? said your Captain. "Live now like rich men, and when we need more we shall find more.?

Stubborn they were, and could not decide together. They split the booty and went their separate ways.

Half a year later, he had not a lira remaining. Maria had a baby girl. They called her Marella. A new father and a respectable man was he, too proud to be a thief . Rinaldo had made a little money, but to share it now was not his way.

So your Captain went off to war. He kissed his wife and child and said to them, "Hold on for one year. I shall return a wealthy man."

Three and a half years passed. A patch on his eye and a scar on his heart, your Captain returned to look for his family. He found them with Rinaldo, now a wealthy merchant. In a villa overlooking the sea, they lived with maids and servants. They would not open their gate to allow your captain inside, nor come out to meet him, nor look upon his war-torn face.

On that day was born a rage in his heart. And these eighteen years, he has plundered, he has killed, he has scourged the countryside, yet the fire within him is not quenched.

On this night, eighteen years after, he shall be avenged.

Here the Captain's story stopped. Silent as a corpse the brigands sat, and still in the raging storm. But Draco's mind was working quickly. He had listened to the Captain's confession, and now he continued his interrupted tale with a new twist:

And well might Antonio crave this woman, for she was a true princess of the finest sirage, as high above him as a crow's nest above the ship's galley. He wooed and flattered her, pursued her with a crazed abandon. And when that didn't work he brought her gifts, gold jewelry and precious gems that he stole from his comrades. They meant nothing to her, the gifts or the flattery, but Antonio would not stop. Even when she left on a two years' journey, he wrote her sweet letters full of fluff and promises. Then, the night of her return, he plotted secretly to kidnap her. To hell with his brave companions who had shared their meat with him these twelve years! He would seize his lady and her wealth and leave them all behind, he would journey to Greece and live like a king with his queen.

But not so easy! Marella will not quietly be abducted, and she screams, calling all the caravan to her aid. Antonio, sly and underhanded, speaks to Rinaldo and negotiates for the girl's betrothal. Rinaldo is only too glad to consent. He has always hated his stepdaughter. He wants to leave those vagabond days behind, and the memory of his friend of yore. So Rinaldo grants Marella's hand, and in return Antonio gives him warning of the brigands' ambush. He draws for Rinaldo a map and marks the dell where they lie in wait, shows him the very knoll from which they will swoop down to raid the caravan. Rinaldo is pleased. He gives Antonio three bags of gold and sends him off with Marella into the night. Then he alerts the slaves, sends them armed and ready out toward the knoll.

"Ho! The caravan is sighted," called Bernardo from his watch upon the bluff. Bernardo? Yes, Bernardo had taken Antonio's place at the watch. The Captain was very suspicious. If he believed Draco's story, he would not dare attack the caravan directly, because a well-laid trap would spell certain death for the brigands. Could he trust Draco, who was known as a thief among thieves, a liar and a conniver? Would he forego on this man's word a revenge for which he had waited eighteen years?

The brigands were chomping at the bit. Their eyes were all turned upon him, and the time for action was at hand. But inside the Captain was torn by doubts and questions, and the memory of a life he never chose to leave behind.

"Scatter, and search for Antonio," he ordered. Then, mounting his horse, he swooped into the valley with a suicidal scream. Alone and unsupported he galloped down into the night, followed the light of destiny straight to the coach where Rinaldo and Maria lay sleeping.

One, two, three he cast aside the guards and slew them with a stroke of the saber. Then into the chamber of his former friends. Rinaldo woke with a start and lit a lantern. He saw the Captain parting the purple curtains with a bloody sword held to one side. For one long moment, they remained locked in a gaze of hate and fear and memories pushed back. Then Rinaldo sprung naked from his quilted bed, the Captain dropped his sword, and the two men engaged hand to hand in a struggle to the death. The Captain, tempered by years of hardship, was easily the stronger of the two. He maintained the upper hand, but he could not bring his full strength to bear against his friend of yore. As Rinaldo fell back, defeated, the Captain's will faltered. He knelt, quivering, with Rinaldo's life held clenched in his grip.

"Ho!" came the voice of the watchman, interrupting Bernardo's story just at that point. The caravan had been sighted, approaching the dell. The Captain leapt to his feet., firm and strong in his resolve. "Light the torches!" He shouted the order with a commanding tone . Then he looked about one last time for Antonio Gone, as Draco had told. "Fire!" he shouted, and twelve flaming arrows sailed down on the caravan. "Again!" he cried, "And again!" The wagons stopped, the horses reared, and the entire caravan erupted in a burst of orange. The Captain's eyes glimmered in the reflected light. Then he turned to Draco with an afterthought: He held a dagger across Draco's throat and said," If you were lying and my daughter is still in that caravan, I will have your life!"

"Captain, I didn't say a thing. It was Bernardo who put the words in my mouth."

This was very confusing, and the Captain tried in vain to unravel it all as he stood looking down from the bluff through his spyglass, watching the wagons' blaze and people scurrying frantically in the valley below.

Just then, "Ho!" came the sign from the watchman, interrupting the Captain's tale. "The caravan is coming, Captain. What be our plan?"

"Stand your ground!" ordered the Captain, "We shall take them from here! Light the torches and string your bows." The brigands, who had been mesmerized by the Captain's tale, rose now as if in a trance, and let fly their flaming arrows with a feeling of deja vu. The caravan in the valley below was struck again and again, and a bright blaze opened up amid the torrents of rain.

Then the thought passed through the Captain's mind: "What if my daughter is still in the caravan? If she should die in the fire, I shall kill..." he looked about and was not sure at whom to direct the threat. So he pulled out his spyglass and looked over the bluff to see if he might catch a glimpse of her. And lo! there was Antonio, brave Antonio on horseback, riding right into the burning caravan. He dismounted with a flourish, and covered his face with the wet, black cape from his back. Then into the gilded wagon he climbed, and emerged moments later with Marella clinging fast to his neck. Up to the horse's back she seemed to sail from his arms, then Antonio mounted behind her, signaled the horse, and the lovers rode galloping off through the night.

The Captain watched them disappear round a bend in the valley. "Draco!" he cried in great anger.

Just then, "Ho!" came the voice of the watchman, cutting Antonio's story short. The wagons of the caravan had appeared in the valley below. "What be our plan?"

"Light the torches!" the Captain shouted impulsively. But then he thought better of it. He looked at Draco, whose mouth was seething with rage and confusion. He looked at Antonio, who had been spinning his tale for most of the long night. Antonio had not been out of his sight. Surely the caravan had not been forewarned, and Marella was still inside, and Maria and Rinaldo lay asleep and unsuspecting in their coach. "Hold your fire!" he ordered. "Dismount and prepare to meet them face to face."

Then the band of brigands, thirteen strong, galloped down into the valley and raided the lengthy caravan. Their guards, caught off guard in the dark and the cold, were bound and rendered helpless. The brigands looted the wagons and loaded their horses with as much gold and jewels as they could hold. Meanwhile, the Captain had a personal mission. He strode into the merchant' s coach and startled Maria and Rinaldo from their sleep. "Up, blackguard!" he shouted. "On your feet! Is this what our friendship has come to?" The Captain cast aside his sword and set upon Rinaldo without arms. Maria screamed.

Then he took Rinaldo's throat in his bare hands, and Rinaldo squirmed beneath his grip.

"Spare me! Spare my life and I shall share with you now all the riches I have acquired." But already the Captain's fingers were closing, squeezing the life from the merchant's fine and delicate throat.

"And you, my sometime wife." Maria was shivering, pale as a ghost.

"I ... I never wanted this. Spare me now and let us again be united."

The Captain was without words. He leaned over the bed and held his wife in a grip of death. "Spare me! Spare me for our daughter's sake."

The Captain heard a shriek behind, and Marella entered the chamber. Instinctively she knew her own flesh and blood. "Papa! How we've worried for you these years!"

The Captain felt his grip loosen and his long-hardened heart begin to melt. "Let us begin a new life together.' The Captain was transformed by his daughter's invitation. In that moment he was able to forgive them both.

"Come then. Come with me." The threesome all mounted the Captain's horse. Forsaking the servants and the riches, they set off together toward a simpler life. Far behind them they left the brigands to plunder the caravan and exult in the untold wealth.

And Antonio, brokenhearted, was left to sift through the ruins of the caravan, his sad eyes searching for any sign of his departed lover. Many years he wandered after that, seeking in vain the lost Marella.

As the men built up the fire for their morning meal, Antonio mounted his horse in silence and slipped away, down into the valley, and westward to rejoin his beloved.