My father was easy enough In
circumstances, and we lived peaceably and independently, cultivating
our fields. All went on well with us until a new chief of the sbirri
was sent to our village to take command of the police. He was an
arbitrary fellow, prying into every thing, and practising all sorts of
vexations and oppressions in the discharge of his office.
I was at that time eighteen years of age, and had a natural love of
justice and good neighborhood. I had also a little education, and knew
something of history, so as to be able to judge a little of men and
their actions. All this inspired me with hatred for this paltry despot.
My own family, also, became the object of his suspicion or dislike, and
felt more than once the arbitrary abuse of his power. These things
worked together on my mind, and I gasped after vengeance. My character
was always ardent and energetic; and acted upon by my love of justice,
determined me by one blow to rid the country of the tyrant.
Full of my project I rose one morning before peep of day, and
concealing a stiletto under my waistcoat - here you see it! - (and he
drew forth a long keen poniard) - I lay in wait for him in the outskirts
of the village. I knew all his haunts, and his habit of making his
rounds and prowling about like a wolf, in the gray of the morning; at
length I met him, and attacked him with fury.
