Carter made it to the top first, reached back to give Giancarlo a hand, and pulled him up over the lip of the ridge. When Giancarlo straightened up and surveyed the scene, he realized that he had indeed brought them to the right place, but as he stood there panting, he felt a terrible sinking feeling in his gut.

Il Rifugio dei Briganti, the brigands’ lair that Giancarlo and Giorgio had discovered that long-ago day when the two went up the mountain in search of forgotten treasure, lay in ruins. Half the roof above where the doorway used to be had caved in, and the rest looked about to fall at any moment. One of the side walls was completely crumbled, and to all appearances little more than a passing breeze would be all that was required to do the same to the others.

Giancarlo stood frozen as he gazed at the devastation. He could not bring himself to draw any nearer to the place for fear of what he might find inside. For a moment, time stopped, and all he could hear was the sound of his own breathing and the whisper of the wind drifting over the mountain.Then suddenly, to his utter astonishment, he heard something coming from within the shattered refuge. At first he could not believe his ears, but then he realized he was not imagining it. It was the sound of someone, in a low, weak, almost pathetic voice, struggling to sing, but ending in a fit of coughing.

Carter looked wide-eyed at Giancarlo and threw aside his walking stick.

“Come on!” he cried, sprinting ahead.

When he reached the outside of the ruined shelter, Carter placed a hand on the wall and cautiously leaned in to have a look, just as Giancarlo caught up to him.The two hazarded to step inside together and peered through the shadows. It took a moment for Giancarlo’s eyes to adjust to the dimness, but when his vision finally cleared, the sight he beheld lifted his spirits, but at the same time broke his heart. There on the floor, pinned on his back beneath a pile of wooden beams and rock, lay Giorgio Rosa.

“Giorgio!” cried Giancarlo.

At hearing the voice, Giorgio lifted his head. Clutching a small knapsack to his chest, he squinted in the dim light and gave a feeble cough.

“I don’t know who you are,” he rasped, “but I am very glad to see you.”

Then his head promptly dropped back onto the dirt.