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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:27:25 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:27:25 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/6379.txt b/6379.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a28629b --- /dev/null +++ b/6379.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12843 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Net, by Rex Beach + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Net + +Author: Rex Beach + +Posting Date: May 2, 2013 [EBook #6379] +Release Date: August, 2004 +First Posted: December 3, 2002 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NET *** + + + + +Produced by Beth Constantine, Juliet Sutherland, Charles +Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "I DO NOT KNOW WHY I HAVE SUMMONED YOU," SHE SAID] + + + + +THE NET + + + + +A NOVEL + +By REX BEACH + +Author of "The Spoilers," "The Barrier," "The Silver Horde," Etc. + + + +WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS BY WALTER TITTLE + + + + +CONTENTS + + + +CHAP. + +I. THE TRAIN FROM PALERMO + +II. A CONFESSION AND A PROMISE + +III. THE GOLDEN GIRL + +IV. THE FEAST AT TERRANOVA + +V. WHAT WAITED AT THE ROADSIDE + +VI. A NEW RESOLVE + +VII. THE SEARCH BEGINS + +VIII. OLD TRAILS + +IX. "ONE WHO KNOWS" + +X. MYRA NELL WARREN + +XI. THE KIDNAPPING + +XII. LA MAFIA XIII. THE BLOOD OF HIS ANCESTORS + +XIV. THE NET TIGHTENS + +XV. THE END OF THE QUEST + +XVI. QUARANTINE + +XVII. AN OBLIGATION IS MET + +XVIII. BELISARIO CARDI + +XIX. FELICITE + +XX. THE MAN IN THE SHADOWS + +XXI. UNDER FIRE + +XXII. A MISUNDERSTANDING + +XXIII. THE TRIAL AND THE VERDICT + +XXIV. AT THE FEET OF THE STATUE + +XXV. THE APPEAL + +XXVI. AT THE DUSK + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +"I DO NOT KNOW WHY I HAVE SUMMONED YOU,' SHE SAID _Frontispiece_ + +"SILENZIO!" HE GROWLED, "I PLAY MY OWN GAME, AND I LOSE" + +HE WRESTLED FOR POSSESSION OF THE GUN + +"P-PLEASE DON'T KILL YOURSELF, DEAR? I COULDN'T HELP IT" + + + + +I + +THE TRAIN FROM PALERMO + + + +The train from Palermo was late. Already long, shadowy fingers were +reaching down the valleys across which the railroad track meandered. +Far to the left, out of an opalescent sea, rose the fairy-like Lipari +Islands, and in the farthest distance Stromboli lifted its smoking cone +above the horizon. On the landward side of the train, as it reeled and +squealed along its tortuous course, were gray and gold Sicilian +villages perched high against the hills or drowsing among fields of +artichoke and sumac and prickly pear. + +To one familiar with modern Sicilian railway trains the journey +eastward from Palermo promises no considerable discomfort, but +twenty-five years ago it was not to be lightly undertaken--not to be +undertaken at all, in fact, without an unusual equipment of patience +and a resignation entirely lacking in the average Anglo-Saxon. It was +not surprising, therefore, that Norvin Blake, as the hours dragged +along, should remark less and less upon the beauties of the island and +more and more upon the medieval condition of the rickety railroad coach +in which he was shaken and buffeted about. He shifted himself to an +easier position upon the seat and lighted a cheroot; for although this +was his first glimpse of Sicily, he had watched the same villages come +and go all through a long, hot afternoon, had seen the same groves of +orange and lemon and dust-green olive-trees, the same fields of Barbary +figs, the same rose-grown garden spots, until he was heartily tired of +them all. He felt at liberty to smoke, for the only other occupant of +the compartment was a young priest in flowing mantle and silk beaver +hat. + +Finding that Blake spoke Italian remarkably well for a foreigner, the +priest had shown an earnest desire for closer acquaintance and now +plied him eagerly with questions, hanging upon his answers with a +childlike intensity of gaze which at first had been amusing. + +"And so the Signore has traveled all the way from Paris to attend the +wedding at Terranova. Veramente! That is a great journey. Many +wonderful adventures befell you, perhaps. Eh?" The priest's little eyes +gleamed from his full cheeks, and he edged forward until his knees +crowded Blake's. It was evident that he anticipated a thrilling tale +and did not intend to be disappointed. + +"It was very tiresome, that's all, and the beggars at Naples nearly +tore me asunder." + +"Incredible! You will tell me about it?" + +"There's nothing to tell. These European trains cannot compare with +ours." + +Evidently discouraged at this lack of response, the questioner tried a +new line of approach. + +"The Signore is perhaps related to our young Conte?" he suggested. "And +yet that can scarcely be, for you are Inglese--" + +"Americano." + +"Indeed?" + +"Martel and I are close friends, however. We met in Paris. We are +almost like brothers." + +"Truly! I have heard that he spends much time studying to be a great +painter. It is very strange, but many of our rich people leave Sicily +to reside elsewhere. As for me, I cannot understand it." + +"Martel left when his father was killed. He says this country is behind +the times, and he prefers to be out in the world where there is life +and where things progress." + +But the priest showed by a blank stare that he did not begin to grasp +the meaning of this statement. He shook his head. "He was always a wild +lad. Now as to the Signorina Ginini, who is to be his beautiful +Contessa, she loves Sicily. She has spent most of her life here among +us." + +With a flash of interest Blake inquired: "What is she like? Martel has +spoken of her a great many times, but one can't place much dependence +on a lover's description." + +"Bellissima!" the priest sighed, and rolled his eyes eloquently. "You +have never seen anything like her, I assure you. She is altogether too +beautiful. If I had my way all the beautiful women would be placed in a +convent where no man could see them. Then there would be no fighting +and no flirting, and the plain women could secure husbands. Beautiful +women are dangerous. She is rich, too." + +"Of course! That's what Martel says, and that is exactly the way he +says it. But describe her." + +"Oh, I have never seen her! I merely know that she is very rich and +very beautiful." He went off into a number of rapturous "issimas!" "Now +as for the Conte, I know him like a book. I know his every thought." + +"But Martel has been abroad for ten years, and he has only returned +within a month." + +"To be sure, but I come from the village this side of San Sebastiano, +and my second cousin Ricardo is his uomo d'affare--his overseer. It is +a very great position of trust which Ricardo occupies, for I must tell +you that he attends to the leasing of the entire estate during the +Conte's absence in France, or wherever it is he draws those marvelous +pictures. Ricardo collects the rents." With true Sicilian naivete the +priest added: "He is growing rich! Beato lui! He for one will not need +to go to your golden America. Is it true, Signore, that in America any +one who wishes may be rich?" + +"Quite true," smiled the young man. "Even our beggars are rich." + +The priest wagged his head knowingly. "My mother's cousin, Alfio Amato, +he is an American. You know him?" + +"I'm afraid not." + +"But surely--he has been in America these five years. A tall, dark +fellow with fine teeth. Think! He is such a liar any one would remember +him. Ebbene! _He_ wrote that there were poor people in America as here, +but we knew him too well to believe him." + +"I suppose every one knows about the marriage?" + +"Oh, indeed! It will unite two old families--two rich families. You +know the Savigni are rich also. Even before the children were left as +orphans it was settled that they should be married. What a great +fortune that will make for Ricardo to oversee! Then, perhaps, he will +be more generous to his own people. He is a hard man in money matters, +and a man of action also; he does not allow flies to sit upon his nose. +He sent his own daughter Lucrezia to Terranova when the Contessa was +still a child, and what is the result? Lucrezia is no longer a servant. +Indeed no, she is more like a sister to the Signorina. At the marriage +no doubt she will receive a fine present, and Ricardo as well. He is as +silent as a Mafioso, but he thinks." + +Young Blake stretched his tired muscles, yawning. + +"I'm sorry Martel couldn't marry in France; this has been a tedious +trip." + +"It was the Contessa's wish, then, to be wed in Sicily?" + +"I believe she insisted. And Martel agreed that it was the proper thing +to do, since they are both Sicilians. He was determined also that I +should be present to share his joy, and so here I am. Between you and +me, I envy him his lot so much that it almost spoils for me the +pleasure of this unique journey." + +"You are an original!" murmured the priest, admiringly, but it was +evident that his thirst for knowledge of the outside world was not to +be so easily quenched, for he began to question his traveling companion +closely regarding America, Paris, the journey thence, the ship which +bore him to Palermo, and a dozen other subjects upon which his active +mind preyed. He was full of the gossip of the countryside, moreover, +and Norvin learned much of interest about Sicily and the disposition of +her people. One phenomenon to which the good man referred with the +extremest wonder was Blake's intimacy with a Sicilian nobleman. How an +American signore had become such a close friend of the illustrious +Conte, who was almost a stranger, even to his own people, seemed very +puzzling indeed, until Norvin explained that they had been together +almost constantly during the past three years. + +"We met quite by chance, but we quickly became friends--what in my +country we call chums--and we have been inseparable ever since." + +"And you, then, are also a great artist?" + +Blake laughed at the indirect compliment to his friend. + +"I am not an artist at all. I have been exiled to Europe for three +years, upon my mother's orders. She has her own ideas regarding a man's +education and wishes me to acquire a Continental polish. My ability to +tell you all this shows that I have at least made progress with the +languages, although I have doubts about the practical value of anything +else I have learned. Martel has taught me Italian; I have taught him +English. We use both, and sometimes we understand each other. My three +years are up now, and once I have seen my good friend safely married I +shall return to America and begin the serious business of life." + +"You are then in business? My mother's cousin, Alfio Amato, is likewise +a business man. He deals in fruit. Beware of him, for he would sell you +rotten oranges and swear by the saints that they were excellent." + +"Like Martel, I have land which I lease. I am, or I will be, a +cotton-planter." + +This opened a new field of inquiry for the priest, who was making the +most of it when the train drew into a station and was stormed by a +horde of chattering country folk. The platform swarmed with vividly +dressed women, most of whom carried bundles wrapped up in variegated +handkerchiefs, and all of whom were tremendously excited at the +prospect of travel. Lean-visaged, swarthy men peered forth from the +folds of shawls or from beneath shapeless caps of many colors; a pair +of carabinieri idled past, a soldier in jaunty feathered hat posed +before the contadini. Dogs, donkeys, fowls added their clamor to the +high-pitched voices. + +Twilight had settled and lights were kindling in the village, while the +heights above were growing black against a rose-pink and +mother-of-pearl sky. The air was cool and fragrant with the odor of +growing things and the open sea glowed with a subdued, pulsating fire. + +The capo stazione rushed madly back and forth striving by voice and +gesture to hasten the movements of his passengers. + +"Partenza! Pronto!" he cried, then blew furiously upon his bugle. + +After a series of shudders and convulsions the train began to hiss and +clank and finally crept on into the twilight, while the priest sat knee +to knee with his companion and resumed his endless questioning. + +It was considerably after dark when Norvin Blake alighted at San +Sebastiano, to be greeted effusively by a young man of about his own +age who came charging through the gloom and embraced him with a great +hug. + +"So! At last you come!" Savigno cried. "I have been here these three +hours eating my heart out, and every time I inquired of that head of a +cabbage in yonder he said, 'Pazienza! The world was not made in a day!' + +"'But when? When?' I kept repeating, and he could only assure me that +your train was approaching with the speed of the wind. The saints in +heaven--even the superintendent of the railway himself--could not tell +the exact hour of its arrival, which, it seems, is never twice the +same. And now, yourself? You are well?" + +"Never better. And you? But there is no need to ask. You look +disgustingly contented. One would think you were already married." + +Martel Savigno showed a row of even, white teeth beneath his military +mustache and clapped his friend affectionately on the back. + +"It is good to be among my own people. I find, after all, that I am a +Sicilian. But let me tell you, that train is not always late. Once, +seven years ago, it arrived upon the moment. There were no passengers +at the station to meet it, however, so it was forced to wait, and now, +in order to keep our good-will it always arrives thus." + +The Count was a well-set-up youth of an alert and active type, tall, +dark, and vivacious, with a skin as smooth as a girl's. He had an +impulsive, energetic nature that seldom left him in repose, and hence +the contrast between the two men was marked, for Blake was of a more +serious cast of features and possessed a decidedly Anglo-Saxon reserve. +He was much the heavier in build, also, which detracted from his height +and robbed him of that elegance which distinguished the young Sicilian. +Yet the two made a fine-looking pair as they stood face to face in the +yellow glare of the station lights. + +"What the deuce made me agree to this trip, I don't know," the American +declared. "It was vile. I've been carsick, seasick, homesick--" + +"And all for poor, lovesick Martel!" The Count laughed. "Ah, but if you +knew how glad I am to see you!" + +"Really? Then that squares it." Blake spoke with that indefinable +undernote which creeps into men's voices when friend meets friend. +"I've been lost without you, too. I was quite ashamed of myself." + +The Count turned to a middle-aged man who had remained in the shadows, +saying: "This is Ricardo Ferara, my good right hand, of whom you have +heard me speak." The overseer raised his hat, and Blake took his hand, +catching a glimpse of a grizzled face and a stiff mop of iron-gray +hair. "You will see to Signore Blake's baggage, Ricardo. Michele! +Ippolito!" the Count called. "The carretta, quickly! And now, caro +Norvin, for the last leg of your journey. Will you ride in the cart or +on horseback? It is not far, but the roads are steep." + +"Horseback, by all means. My muscles need exercise." + +The young men mounted a pair of compact Sicilian horses, which were +held by still another man in the street behind the depot, and set off +up the winding road which climbed to the village above. Blake regretted +the lateness of the hour, which prevented him from gaining an adequate +idea of his surroundings. He could see, however, that they were +picturesque, for San Sebastiano lay in a tiny step hewed out of the +mountain-side and was crowded into one street overlooking the railway +far below and commanding a view of the sea toward the Calabrian coast. +As the riders clattered through the poorly lighted village, Blake saw +the customary low-roofed houses, the usual squalid side-streets, more +like steep lanes than thoroughfares, and heard the townspeople +pronouncing the name of the Count of Martinello, while the ever-present +horde of urchins fled from their path. A beggar appeared beside his +stirrup, crying, "I die of hunger, your worship." But the fellow ran +with surprising vigor and manifested a degree of endurance quite +unexampled in a starving man. A glimpse of these, and then the lights +were left behind and they were moving swiftly upward and into the +mountains, skirting walls of stone over which was wafted the perfume of +many flowers, passing fragrant groves of orange and lemon trees, and +less fragrant cottages, the contents of which were bared to their eyes +with utter lack of modesty. They disturbed herds of drowsy cattle and +goats lying at the roadside, and all the time they continued to climb, +until their horses heaved and panted. + +The American's impressions of this entire journey, from the time of his +leaving Paris up to the present moment, had been hurried and unreal, +for he had made close connections at Rome, at Naples, and at Palermo. +Having the leisurely deliberateness of the American Southerner, he +disliked haste and confusion above all things. He had an intense +desire, therefore, to come to anchor and to adjust himself to his +surroundings. + +As Martel chattered along, telling of his many doings, Blake noted that +Ricardo and the man who had held the horses were following closely. +Then, as the cavalcade paused at length to breathe their mounts, he saw +that both men carried rifles. + +"Why! We look like an American sheriff's posse, Martel," said he. "Do +all Sicilian bridegrooms travel with an armed escort?" + +Savigno showed a trace of hesitation. "The nights are dark; the country +is wild." + +"But, my dear boy, this country is surely old enough to be safe. Why, +Sicily was civilized long before my country was even heard of. All +sorts of ancient gods and heroes used to live here, I am told, and I +supposed Diana had killed all the game long ago." + +He laughed, but Savigno did not join him, and a moment later they were +under way again. + +After a brief gallop they drew up at a big, dark house, hidden among +the deeper shadows of many trees, and in answer to Martel's shout a +wide door was flung back; then by the light which streamed forth from +it they dismounted and made their way up a flight of stone steps. Once +inside, Savigno exclaimed: + +"Welcome to my birthplace! A thousand welcomes!" Seizing Norvin by the +shoulders, he whirled him about. "Let me see you once. Ah! I am glad +you made this sacrifice for me, for I need you above all men." His +eyes, though bright with affection, were grave--something unusual in +him--and the other inquired, quickly: + +"There's nothing wrong, I hope?" + +Savigno tossed his head and smiled. + +"Wrong! What could be wrong with me now that you are here? No! All is +quite right, but I have been accursed with lonesomeness. Something was +lacking, It was you, caro mio. Now, however, I am the most contented of +mortals. But you must be famished, so I will show you to your room at +once. Francesca has provided a feast for us, I assure you." + +"Give me a moment to look around. So this is the castello? Jove! It's +ripping!" + +Blake found himself in a great hall similar to many he had seen in his +European wanderings, but ruder and older by far. He judged the castello +to be of Norman build, but remodeled to suit the taste of the Savigni. +To the right, through an open door, he saw a large room where a fat +Sicilian woman was laying the table; to the left was a drawing-room +lighted only by a fire of fagots in a huge, black fireplace, the +furniture showing curiously distorted in the long shadows. Other rooms +opened towards the rear, and he realized that the old place was very +large. It was unkempt also, and showed the lack of a woman's hand. + +"You exaggerate!" said Savigno. "After Paris the castello will seem +very mean. We Siciliani do not live in grand style, and, besides, I +have spent practically no time here, since my father (may the saints +receive him) left me free to wander. The place has been closed; the old +servants have gone; it is dilapidated." + +"On the contrary, it's just the sort of place it should be--venerable +and overflowing with romance. You must rule like a medieval baron. Why, +you could sell this woodwork to some millionaire countryman of mine for +enough to realize a fortune." + +"Per Dio! If taxes are not reduced I shall be forced to some such +expedient," the Count laughed. "It was my mother's home, it is my +birthplace, so I love it--even though I neglect it. As you perceive, it +is high time I took a wife. But enough! If you are lacking in appetite, +I am not, and Francesca is an unbearable tyrant when her meals grow +cold." + +He led his friend up the wide stairs and left him to prepare for supper. + +"And so this ends it all," said Blake, as the two young men lounged in +the big, empty drawing-room later that evening. They had dined and +gossiped as only friends of their age can gossip, had relived their +adventures of the past three years, and still were loath to part, even +for sleep. + +"How so?" queried Savigno. "You speak of marriage as if it were +dissolution." + +"It might as well be, so far as the other fellow is concerned." + +"Nonsense! I shall not change." + +"Oh, yes, you will! Besides, I am returning to America." + +"Even so, we are rich; we shall travel; we shall meet frequently. You +will come to Sicily. Perhaps the Contessa and I may even go to America. +Friendship such as ours laughs at the leagues." + +But Blake was pessimistic. "Perhaps she won't like me." + +Martel laughed at this. + +"Impossible! She is a woman, she has eyes, she will see you as I see +you. More than that, I have told her that she must love you." + +"Then that does settle it! You have hung the crepe on our future +intimacy, for good and all. She will instruct your cook to put a spider +in my dumpling or to do away with me by some characteristic Sicilian +method." + +Martel seemed puzzled by the Americanism of this speech, but Norvin +merely smiled and changed to Italian. + +"Do you really love her?" he asked. + +"Of course! Since I was a boy so high I have known we would marry. She +adores me, she is young, she is beautiful, she is--rich!" + +"In Heaven's name don't use that tone in speaking of her wealth. You +make me doubt you." + +"No, no!" The Count smiled. "It would be the same if she were a peasant +girl. We shall be so happy--oh, there is no expressing how happy we +intend being." + +"I've no doubt. And that makes it quite certain to end our comradeship." + +"You croak like a raven!" declared the Sicilian. "What has soured you?" + +"Nothing. I am a wise young man, that's all. You see, happiness is +all-sufficient; it needs nothing to complete itself. It is a wall +beyond which the owner does not care to wander, so, when you are quite +happy with the new Countess, you will forget your friends of unmarried +days." + +"Would you then have me unhappily married?" + +"By no means. I am full of regrets at losing you, nothing more." + +"It is plain, then, that you also must marry. Is there no admirable +American lady?" + +"Any quantity of them, but I don't care much for women except in an +impersonal sort of way, or perhaps I don't attract them. I might enjoy +falling in love if it were not such a tedious process." + +"It is not necessarily tedious. One may love with the suddenness of an +explosion. I have done so, many times." + +"I know you have, but you are a Sicilian; we go about such things in a +dignified and respectable manner. Love is a serious matter with us. We +don't explode." + +"Yes. When you love, you marry; and you marry in the same way you buy a +farm. But we have blood in our veins and lime in our bones. I have +loved many women to distraction; there is only one whom I would marry." + +Ricardo entered at the moment, and the Count arose with a word of +apology to his guest. He spoke earnestly with his overseer, but, as +they were separated from him by the full width of the great room, Blake +overheard no more than a word now and then. They were speaking in the +Sicilian dialect, moreover, which was unfamiliar to him, yet he caught +the mention of Ippolito, one of the men who had met him at the station, +also of an orange-grove, and the word "Mafioso." Then he heard Martel +say: + +"The shells for the new rifle--Ippolito is a bad shot--take plenty." + +When Ricardo had gone and the Count had returned to his seat, Norvin +fancied he detected once more that grave look he had surprised in his +friend's countenance upon their arrival at the castello. + +"What were you telling Ricardo about rifles and cartridges?" he +inquired. + +"Eh? It was nothing. We are forced to guard our oranges; there are +thieves about. I have been too long away from Martinello." + +Later, as Norvin Blake composed himself to sleep he wondered idly if +Martel had told him the whole truth. He recalled again the faint, grave +lines that had gathered about the Count's eyes, where there had never +been aught but wrinkles of merriment, and he recalled also that word +"Mafioso." It conjured memories of certain tales he had heard of +Sicilian outlawry and brigandage, and of that evil, shadowy society of +"Friends" which he understood dominated this island. There was a story +about the old Count's death also, but Martel had never told him much. +Norvin tried to remember what it was, but sleep was heavy upon him and +he soon gave up. + + + + +II + +A CONFESSION AND A PROMISE + + + +Norvin Blake slept soundly, as befitted a healthy young man with less +than the usual number of cares upon his mind, and, notwithstanding the +fact that he had retired at a late hour, somewhat worn by his journey, +he awoke earlier than usual. Still lacking an adequate idea of his +surroundings, he arose and, flinging back the blinds of his window, +looked out upon a scene which set him to dressing eagerly. + +The big front door of the hall below was barred when he came down, and +only yielded to his efforts with a clanging which would have awakened +any one except Martel, letting him out upon a well-kept terrace beneath +which the hills fell away in majestic sweeps and curves to the +coast-line far beneath. + +It was a true Sicilian morning, filled with a dazzling glory of color, +and although it was not early, from a countryman's point of view, the +dewy freshness had not entirely faded, and rosy tints still lingered in +the valleys and against the Calabrian coast in the distance. An odor of +myrtle and jessamine came from a garden beneath the outer terrace wall, +and on either side of the manor rose wooded hills the lower slopes of +which were laid out in vineyards and groves of citrus fruits. + +Having in full measure the normal man's unaffected appreciation of +nature, Blake found himself wondering how Martel could ever leave this +spot for the artificialities of Paris. The Count was amply able to live +where he chose, and it was no love for art which had kept him in France +these many years. On the contrary, they had both recognized the +mediocrity of his talent and had often joked about it. It was perhaps +no more than a youthful restlessness and craving for excitement, he +concluded. + +Knowing that his luxurious host would not be stirring for another hour, +he set out to explore the place at his leisure, and in time came around +to the stables and outhouses. It is not the front of any residence +which shows its real character, any more than a woman's true nature is +displayed by her Sunday attire. Norvin made friends with a surly, +stiff-haired dog, then with a patriarchal old goat which he found +grazing atop a wall, and at last he encountered Francesca bearing a +bundle of fagots upon her head. + +She was in a bad temper, it appeared, for in answer to his cheerful +greeting she began to revile the names of Ippolito and Michele. + +"Lazy pigs!" she cried, fiercely. "Is it not sufficient that old +Francesca should bare her bones and become a shadow with the cares of +the household? Is it not sufficient that she performs the labor of +twenty in caring for the padrone? No! Is it not the devil's task to +prepare the many outlandish delicacies he learned to eat in his +travels? Yes! Ha! What of that! She must also perform the duties of an +ass and bear wood for the fires! And what, think you, those two young +giants are doing all the day? Sleeping, Si'or! Up all night, asleep all +day! A fine business. And Francesca with a broken back!" + +"I'll carry your wood," he offered, at which the mountainous old woman +stared at him as if she did not in the least comprehend his words. +Although her burden was enough to tax a man's strength, she balanced it +easily upon her head and made no move to go. + +"And the others! May they all be blinded--Attilio, Gaspare, Roberto! +The hangman will get them, surely. Briganti, indeed!" She snorted like +a horse. "May Belisario Cardi roast them over these very fagots." +Slowly she moved her head from side to side while the bundle swayed +precariously. "It is a bad business, Si'or. The padrone is mad to +resist. You may tell him he is quite mad. Mark me, Ricardo knows that +no good will come of it, but he is like a bull when he is angry. He +lowers his head and sees blood. Veramente, it is a bad business and we +shall all lose our ears." She moved off majestically, her eyes rolling +in her fat cheeks, her lips moving; leaving the American to speculate +as to what her evil prediction had to do with Ippolito and the firewood. + +He was still smiling at her anger when Ippolito himself, astride a +horse, came clattering into the courtyard and dismounted stiffly, +giving him a good morning with a wide yawn. + +"Corpo di Baccho!" exclaimed the rider. "I shall sleep for a century." +He stretched luxuriously and, unslinging a gun from his shoulder, +leaned it against the wall. Blake was surprised to find it a late model +of an American repeating rifle. "Francesca!" he called loudly. "Madonna +mia, I am famished!" + +"Francesca was here a moment ago," Norvin volunteered. "In a frightful +temper, too." + +"Just so! It was the wood, I presume." He scowled. "One cannot be in +ten places unless he is in ten pieces. I am glad to be here, and not +here and there." + +"Well, she wants you roasted by some fellow named Cardi--" + +"Eh? What?" Ippolito started, jerking the horse's head by the bridle +rein, through which he had thrust his arm. "What is this?" + +"Belisario Cardi, I believe she said. I don't know him." + +The Sicilian muttered an oath and disappeared into the stable; he was +still scowling when he emerged. + +Prompted by a feeling that he was close to something mysterious, Blake +tried to sound the fellow. + +"You are abroad early," he suggested. + +But Ippolito seemed in no mood for conversation, and merely replied: + +"Si, Signore, quite early." + +He was a lean, swarthy youth, square-jawed and well put up. Although +his clothes were poor, he wore them with a certain grace and moved like +a man who is sure of himself. + +"Did you see any robbers?" + +"Robbers?" Ippolito's look was one of quick suspicion. "Who has ever +seen a robber?" + +"Come, come! I heard the Count and Ricardo talking. You have been away, +among the orange-groves, all night. Am I right?" + +"You are right." + +"Tell me, is it common thieves or outlaws whom you watch? I have heard +about your brigands." + +"Ippolito!" came the harsh voice of Ricardo, who at that moment +appeared around the corner of the stable. "In the kitchen you will find +food." + +Ippolito bowed to the American and departed, his rifle beneath his arm. + +Blake turned his attention to the overseer, for his mind, once filled +with an idea, was not easily satisfied. But Ricardo would give him no +information. He raised his bushy, gray eyebrows at the American's +question. + +"Brigands? Ippolito is a great liar." + +Seeing the angry sparkle in the old fellow's eyes, Norvin hastened to +say: + +"He told me nothing, I assure you." + +"Thieves, yes! We have ladri here, as elsewhere. Sometimes it is well +to take precautions." + +"But Francesca was quite excited, and I heard you and Martel mention La +Mafia last night," Blake persisted. "I see you all go armed. I am +naturally curious. I thought you might be in trouble with the society." + +"Children's tales!" said Ricardo, gruffly. "There is no society of La +Mafia." + +"Oh, see here! We have it even in my own country. The New Orleans +papers have been full of stories about the Mala Vita, the Mafia, or +whatever you choose to call it. There is a big Italian population +there, you know, and they are causing our police a great deal of worry. +I live in Louisiana, so I ought to know. We understand it's an offshoot +of the Sicilian Mafia." + +"In Naples I hear there is a Camorra. But this is Sicily. We have no +societies." + +"Nevertheless, I heard you say something about 'Mafioso' last night," +Blake insisted. + +"Perhaps," grudgingly admitted the overseer. "But La Mafia is not a +man, not a society, as you say. It is--" He made a wide gesture. "It is +all Sicily. You do not understand." + +"No, I do not." + +"Very well. One does not speak of it. Would the Signore care to see the +horses?" + +"Thank you, yes." + +The two went into the stables together, and Blake for the time gave up +the hope of learning anything further about Sicilian brigandage. Nor +did Martel show any willingness to enlighten him when he tentatively +introduced the subject at breakfast, but laughingly turned the +conversation into another channel. + +"To-day you shall see the star of my life," he declared. "Be prepared +to worship as all men do." + +"Assuredly." + +"And promise you will not fall in love." + +"Is that why you discouraged my coming until a week before your +wedding? Really, if she is all you claim, we might have been such +delightful enemies." + +"Enemies are never that," said the Count, gravely. + +"I know men in my country who cherish their enemies like friends. They +seem to enjoy them tremendously, until one or the other has passed on +to glory. Even then they are highly spoken of." + +"I am impatient for you to see her. She, of course, has many +preparations to make, for the wedding-day is almost here; but it is +arranged that we are to dine there to-night with her and her aunt, the +Donna Teresa. Ah, Norvin mine, seven days separate me from Paradise. +You can judge of my ecstasy. The hours creep, the moments are leaden. +Each night when I retire, I feel faithless in allowing sleep to rob my +thoughts of her. When I awake it is with the consolation that more of +those miserable hours have crept away. I am like a man insane." + +"I am beginning to think you really are so." + +"Diamine! Wait! You have not seen her. We are to be married by a +bishop." + +"No doubt that will insure your happiness." + +"A marriage like this does not occur every day. It will be an event, I +tell you." + +"And you're sure I won't be in the way this evening?" + +"No, no! It is arranged. She is waiting--expecting you. She knows you +already. This morning, however, you will amuse yourself--will you +not?--for I must ride down to San Sebastiano and meet the colonel of +carabinieri from Messina." + +"Certainly. Don't mind me." + +Martel hesitated an instant, then explained: + +"It is a matter of business. One of my farm-hands is in prison." + +"Indeed! What for?" + +"Oh, it is nothing. He killed a fellow last week." + +"Jove! What a peaceful, pastoral place you have here! I arrive to be +met by an armed guard, I hear talk of Mafiosi, men ride out at night +with rifles, and old women predict unspeakable evil. What is all the +mystery?" + +"Nonsense! There is no mystery. Do you think I would drag you, my best +friend, into danger?" Savigno's lips were smiling, but he awaited an +answer with some restraint. "That would not be quite the--quite a nice +thing to do, would it?" + +"So, that's it! Now I know you have something on your mind. And it must +be of considerable importance or you would have told me before this." + +"You are right," the Count suddenly declared, "although I hoped you +would not discover it. I might have known. But I suppose it is better +to make a clean breast of it now. I have enemies, my friend, and I +assure you I do not cherish them." + +"The Countess Margherita is a famous beauty, eh? Well! It is not +remarkable that you should have rivals." + +"No, no. This has nothing to do with her, unless our approaching +marriage has roused them to make a demonstration. Have you ever heard +of--Belisario Cardi?" + +"Not until this morning. Who is he?" + +"I would give much to know. If you had asked me a month ago, I would +have said he is an imaginary character, used to frighten people--a +modern Fra Diavolo, a mere name with which to inspire terror--for +nobody has ever seen him. Now, however, he seems real enough, and I +learn that the carabinieri believe in his existence." Martel pushed +back the breakfast dishes and, leaning his elbows upon the table, +continued, after a pause: "To you Sicily is all beauty and peace and +fragrance; she is old and therefore civilized, so you think. Everything +you have seen so far is reasonably modern, eh?" He showed his white +teeth as Blake assured him: + +"It's the most peaceful, restful spot I ever saw." + +"You see nothing but the surface. Sicily is much what she was in my +grandfather's time. You have inquired about La Mafia. Well, there is +such a thing. It killed my father. It forced me to give up my home and +be an exile." At Norvin's exclamation of astonishment, he nodded. +"There's a long story behind it which you could not appreciate without +knowing my father and the character of our Sicilian people, for, after +all, Sicilian character constitutes La Mafia. It is no sect, no cult, +no secret body of assassins, highwaymen, and robbers, as you foreigners +imagine; it is a national hatred of authority, an individual expression +of superiority to the law." + +"In our own New Orleans we are beginning to talk of the Mafia, but with +us it is a mysterious organization of Italian criminals. We treat it as +somewhat of a joke." + +"Be not so sure. Some day it may dominate your American cities as it +does all Sicily." + +"Still I don't understand. You say it is an organization and yet it is +not; it terrorizes a whole island and yet you say it is no more than +your national character. It must have a head, it must have arms." + +"It has no head, or, rather, it has many heads. It is not a band. It is +the Sicilian intolerance of restraint, the individual's sense of +superiority to moral, social, and political law. It is the freemasonry +that results from this common resistance to authority. It is an idea, +not an institution; it is Sicily's curse and that which makes her +impossible of government. I do not mean to deny that we have outlawry +and brigandage; they are merely the most violent demonstrations of La +Mafia. It afflicts the cities; it is a tyranny in the country +districts. La Mafia taxes us with blackmail, it saddles us with a great +force of carabinieri, it gives food and drink and life to men like +Belisario Cardi. Every landholder, every man of property, contributes +to its support. You still do not understand, but you will as I go +along. As an instance of its workings, all fruit-growers hereabouts are +obliged to maintain watchmen, in addition to their regular employees. +Otherwise their groves will be robbed. These guards are Mafiosi. Let us +say that one of us opposes this monopoly. What happens? He loses his +crop in a night; his trees are cut down. Should he appeal to the law +for protection, he is regarded as a weakling, a man of no spirit. This +is but one small example of the workings of La Mafia; as a matter of +fact, it permeates the political, the business, and the social life of +the whole island. Knowing the impotence of the law to protect any one, +peaceable citizens shield the criminals. They perjure themselves to +acquit a Mafioso rather than testify against him and thus incur the +certainty of some fearful vengeance. Should the farmer persist in his +independence, something ends his life, as in my father's case. The +whole country is terrorized by a conspiracy of a few bold and masterful +men. It is unbearable. There are, of course, Capi-Mafia--leaders--whose +commands are enforced, but there is no single well-organized society. +It is a great interlocking system built upon patronage, friendship, and +the peculiar Sicilian character." + +"Now I think I begin to understand." + +"My father was not strong enough to throw off the yoke and it meant his +death. I was too young to take his place, but now that I am a man I +intend to play a man's part, and I have served notice. It means a +battle, but I shall win." + +To Martel's hasty and very incomplete sketch of the hidden influences +of Sicilian life Blake listened with the greatest interest, noting the +grave determination that had settled upon his friend; yet he could +scarcely bring himself to accept an explanation that seemed so +far-fetched. The whole theory of the Mafia struck him as grotesque and +theatrical. + +"And one man has already been killed, you say?" he asked. + +"Yes, I discharged all the watchmen whom I knew to be Mafiosi. It +caused a commotion, I can tell you, and no little uneasiness among the +country people, who love me even if, to them, I have been a more or +less imaginary person since my father's death. Naturally they warned me +to desist in this mad policy of independence. A week ago one of my +campieri, Paolo--he who is now in prison--surprised a fellow hacking +down my orange-trees and shot him. The miscreant proved to be a certain +Galli, whom I had discharged. He left a family, I regret to say, but +his reputation was bad. Notwithstanding all this, Paolo is still in +prison despite my utmost efforts. The machinery of the Mafia is in +motion, they will perjure witnesses, they will spend money in any +quantity to convict my poor Paolo. Heaven knows what the result will +be." + +"And where does this bogey-man enter--this Belisario Cardi?" + +"I have had a letter from him." + +"Really?" + +"It is in the hands of the carabinieri, hence this journey of my +friend, Colonel Neri, from Messina." + +"What did the letter say?" + +"It demanded a great sum of money, with my life as the penalty for +refusal. It was signed by Cardi; there was no mistaking the name. If it +had been from Narcone, for instance, I would have paid no attention to +it, for he is no more than a cattle-thief. But Belisario Cardi! My boy, +you don't appreciate the significance of that name. I should not care +to fall into his hands, I assure you, and have my feet roasted over a +slow fire--" + +"Good heavens!" Norvin cried, rising abruptly from his chair. "You +don't really mean he's that sort?" + +"As a matter of fact," the Count reassured his guest, "I don't believe +in his existence at all. It is merely a name to be used upon occasion. +But as for the punishment, that is perhaps the least I might expect if +I were so unfortunate as to be captured." + +"Why, this can't be! Do you realize that this is the year 1886? Such +things are not possible any longer. In your father's time--yes." + +"All things are possible in Sicily," smiled Savigno. "We are a century +behind the times. But, caro mio, I did wrong to tell you--" + +"No, no." + +"I shall come to no harm, believe me. I am known to be young, rich, and +my marriage is but a few days off. What more natural, therefore, than +for some Mafioso to try to frighten me and profit by the dreaded name +of Cardi? I am a stranger here in my own birthplace. When I become +better known, there will be no more feeble attempts at blackmail. Other +landholders have maintained their independence, and I shall do the +same, for an enemy who fears to fight openly is a coward, and I am in +the right." + +"I am glad I came. I shall be glad, too, when you are married and +safely off on your wedding journey." + +"I feared to tell you all this lest you should think I had no right to +bring you here at such a time--" + +"Don't be an utter idiot, Martel." + +"You are an American; you have your own way of looking at things. Of +course, if anything should happen--if ill-fortune should overtake me +before the marriage--" + +"See here! If there is the slightest danger, the faintest possibility, +you ought to go away, as you did before," Norvin declared, positively. + +"I am no longer a child. I am to be married a week hence. Wild horses +could not drag me away." + +"You could postpone it--explain it to the Countess--" + +"There is no necessity; there is no cause for alarm, even. All the +same, I feel much easier with you here. Margherita has relatives, to be +sure, but they are--well, I have no confidence in them. In the remote +possibility that the worst should come, you could look out for her, and +I am sure you would. Am I right?" + +"Of course you are." + +"And now let us think of something pleasanter. We won't talk of it any +more, eh?" + +"I'm perfectly willing to let it drop. You know I would do anything for +you or yours, so we needn't discuss that point any further." + +"Good!" Martel rose and with his customary display of affection flung +an arm about his friend's shoulders. "And now Ricardo is waiting to go +to San Sebastiano, so you must amuse yourself for an hour or two. I +have had the billiard-table recovered, and the cushions are fairly +good. You will find books in the library, perhaps a portfolio of my +earlier drawings--" + +"Billiards!" exclaimed the American, fervently, whereupon the Count +laughed. + +"Till I return, then, a riverderci!" He seized his hat and strode out +of the room. + + + + +III + +THE GOLDEN GIRL + + + +Shortly after the heat of the day had begun to subside the two friends +set out for Terranova. Ricardo accompanied them--it seemed he went +everywhere with Martel--following at a distance which allowed the young +men freedom to talk, his watchful eyes scanning the roadside as if even +in the light of day he feared some lurking danger. + +The prospect of seeing his fiancee acted like wine upon Savigno, and +from his exuberant spirits it was evident that he had completely +forgotten his serious talk at the breakfast table. His disposition was +mercurial, and if he had ever known real forebodings they were +forgotten now. + +It was a splendid ride along a road which wound in serpentine twinings +high above the sea, now breasting ridges bare of all save rock and +spurge, and now dipping into valleys shaded by flowering trees and +cloyed with the scent of blooms. It meandered past farms, in haphazard +fashion, past vineyards and gardens and groves of mandarin, lime, and +lemon, finally toiling up over a bold chestnut-studded shoulder of the +range, where Blake drew in to enjoy the scene. A faint haze, impalpable +as the memory of dreams, lay over the land, the sea was azure, the +mountains faintly purple. A gleam of white far below showed Terranova, +and when the American had voiced his appreciation the three horsemen +plunged downward, leaving a rolling cloud of yellow dust behind them. + +The road from here on led through a wild and somewhat forbidding +country, broken by ravines and watercourses and quite densely wooded +with thickets which swept upward into the interior as far as the eye +could reach; but in the neighborhood of Terranova the land blossomed +and flowered again as on the other side of the mountains. + +Leaving the main road by a driveway, the three horsemen swung through +spacious grounds and into a courtyard behind the house, where an old +man came shuffling slowly forward, his wrinkled face puckered into a +smile of welcome. + +"Ha! Aliandro!" cried the Count. "What do I see? The rheumatism is gone +at last, grazie Dio!" + +Aliandro's loose lips parted over his toothless gums and he mumbled: + +"Illustrissimo, the accursed affliction is worse." + +"Impossible! Then why these capers? My dear Aliandro, you are shamming. +Why, you came leaping like a goat." + +"As God is my judge, carino, I can sleep only in the sun. It is like +the tortures of the devil, and my bones creak like a gate." + +"And yet each day I declare to myself: 'Aliandro, that rascal, is +growing younger as the hours go by. It is well we are not rivals in +love or I should be forced to hate him!'" The old man chuckled and +beamed upon Savigno, who proceeded to make Norvin known. + +Aliandro's face had once been long and pointed, but with the loss of +teeth and the other mysterious shrinkages of time it had shortened +until in repose the chin and the nose seemed to meet like the points of +calipers. When he moved his jaws his whole countenance lengthened +magically, as if made of some substance more elastic than flesh. It +stretched and shortened rapidly now, in the most extraordinary fashion, +for the Count had a knack of pleasing people. + +"And where are the ladies?" Savigno inquired. + +Aliandro cocked a watery eye at the heavens and replied: + +"They will be upon the loggiato at this hour, Illustrissimo. The Donna +Teresa will have a book." He squinted respectfully at a small note +which Martel handed him, then inquired, "Do you wish change?" + +"Not at all. It is yours for your courtesy." + +"Grazie! Grazie! A million thanks." The old fellow made off with +surprising agility. + +"What a sham he is!" the Count laughed, as he and Norvin walked on +around the house. "He will do no labor, and yet the Contessa supports +him in idleness. There is a Mafioso for you! He has been a brigand, a +robber. He is, to this day, as you see. Margherita has an army of such +people who impose upon her. Every time I am here I tip him. Every time +he receives it with the same words." + +Although the country-seat of the Ginini was known as a castello, it was +more in the nature of a comfortable and pretentious villa. It had +dignity, however, and drowsed upon a commanding eminence fronted by a +splendid terraced lawn which one beheld through clumps of flowering +shrubs and well-tended trees. Here and there among the foliage gleamed +statuary, and the musical purl of a fountain fell upon the ear. + +As the young men mounted to the loggiato, or covered gallery, a +delicate, white-haired Italian lady arose and came to meet them. + +"Ah, Martel, my dear boy! We have been expecting you," she cried. + +It was the Donna Teresa Fazello, and she turned a sweet face upon +Mattel's friend, bidding him welcome to Terranova with charming +courtesy. She was still exchanging with him the pleasantries customary +upon first meetings when he heard the Count exclaim softly, and, +looking up, saw him bowing low over a girl's hands. Her back was half +turned toward Norvin, but although he had not seen her features +clearly, he felt a great surprise. His preconceived notion of her had +been all wrong; It seemed, for she was not dark--on the contrary, she +was as tawny as a lioness. Her hair, of which there was an abundance, +was not the ordinary Saxon yellow, but iridescent, as if burned by the +fierce heat of a tropical sun. The neck and cheeks were likewise +golden, or was it the light from her splendid crown? + +He was still staring at her when she turned and came forward to give +him her hand, thus allowing her full glory to flash upon him. + +"Welcome!" she said, in a voice as low-pitched as a cello string, and +her lover, watching eagerly for some sign from his friend, smiled +delightedly at the emotion he saw leap up in Norvin's face. That young +man was quite unconscious of Martel's espionage--unconscious of +everything, in fact, save the splendid creature who stood smiling at +him as if she had known him all her days. His first impression, that +she was all golden, all gleaming, like a flame, did not leave him; for +the same warm tints that were in her hair were likewise present in her +cheeks, her neck, her hands. It was like the hue which underlies old +ivory. Her skin was clear and of unusual pallor, yet it seemed to +radiate warmth. Something rich and vivid in her voice also lent +strength to the odd impression she had given him, as if her very speech +were gold made liquid. Except for the faintest tinge of olive, her +cheeks were colorless, yet they spoke of perfect health, and shone with +that same pale, effulgent glow, like the reflection of a late sun. Her +lips were richly red and as fresh as a half-opened flower, affording +the only contrast to that puzzling radiance. Her unusual effect was due +as much perhaps to the color of her eyes as to her hair and skin, for +while they were really of a greenish hazel they held the fires of an +opal in their depths. They were Oriental, slumbrous, meditative, and +the black pupils were of an exaggerated size. Her brows were dark and +met above a finely chiseled nose. + +All in all, Blake was quite taken aback, for he had not been prepared +for such a vision, and a sort of panic robbed him of speech. But when +his halting tongue had done its duty and his eyes had turned once more +to the aunt, some irresistible power swept them back to the young +woman's face. The more he observed her the more he was puzzled by that +peculiar effect, that glow which seemed to envelop her. Even her gown, +of some shimmering material, lent its part to the illusion. Yellow was +undeniably her color; she seemed steeped in it. + +He had to make a determined effort to recover his composure. + +Savigno fell quickly into a lover's rhapsody, devouring the girl with +ardent glances under which she thrilled, and soon they began to chatter +of the wedding preparations. + +"It was very good of you to come so long a way," said the Countess at +last, turning to the American for a second time. "Martel has told us +all about you and about your adventures together." + +"Not all!" cried Savigno, lightly. "We have pasts, I assure you." + +"Martel tries so hard to impress us with his wickedness," the aunt +explained. "But we know him to be jesting. Perhaps you will confound +him here before us." + +"I shall do nothing of the sort," Blake laughed. "Who am I to rob him +of a delightfully wicked past upon which he can pretend to look back in +horror? It is the only past he will ever have, so why spoil it for him? +On the contrary, I am prepared to lend a hand and to start him off with +a list of damning disclosures which it will require years to live down." + +"Pray begin," urged the Count with an air of intense satisfaction. "Eh? +He hesitates. Then I shall begin for him. In the first place, +Margherita, he openly declares that I covet your riches." + +The Countess joined in the laughter at this, and Norvin could only say: + +"I had not met you then, Signorina." + +"He was quite serious, nevertheless, and predicted that marriage would +end our friendship, arguing that supreme happiness is but another term +for supreme selfishness." + +"At least I did not question the certainty of your happiness." + +The girl spoke up gravely: + +"I don't agree with you, Signor Blake. I should hate to think it will +make us selfish. It seems to me that such--love as we share will make +us very good and sweet and generous." + +When she spoke of love she hesitated and lowered her eyes until the +quivering lashes swept her cheeks, but no flush of embarrassment +followed. Norvin realized that with all her reserve she could not +blush, had probably never blushed. + +"You shouldn't place the least dependence on the words of a man's best +friend under such conditions," he told her, "for he covers his chagrin +at losing a comrade by a display of pessimism which he doesn't really +feel." + +Norvin suddenly wished the Countess would not allow her glance to +linger upon him so long and searchingly. It filled him with a most +disturbing self-consciousness. He was relieved when the Donna Teresa +engaged him in conversation and the lovers were occupied with each +other. It was some time later that the Countess addressed her aunt +excitedly: + +"Listen! What do you think of this, zia mia? The authorities will not +admit poor Paolo to bail, and he is still in prison." + +"Poor fellow!" cried the Donna Teresa. "It is La Mafia." + +"Perhaps it is better for him to remain where he is," Martel said. "He +is at least safe, for the time being. Here is something you may not +know: Galli's wife is sister to Gian Narcone." + +"The outlaw?" + +"Then she will probably kill Paolo," said the Countess Margherita, +calmly. + +Blake exclaimed wonderingly: "I say--this is worse than Breathitt +County, Kentucky. You talk of murders and outlaws as we discuss the +cotton crop or the boll-weevil. This is the most fatal country I ever +saw." + +"It is a great pity that such things exist," the Donna Teresa agreed, +"but one grows accustomed to them in time. It has been so ever since I +was a child--we do not seem to progress, here in Sicily. Now in Italy +it is much more civilized, much more restful." + +"How hard it must be to do right," said the Countess, musingly. "Look +at Paolo, for instance; he kills a wretched thief quite innocently, and +yet the law holds him in prison. It is necessary, of course, to be +severe with robbers like this Galli and his brother-in-law, who is an +open outlaw, and yet, I suppose if I were that Galli's wife I should +demand blood to wash my blood. She is only a wife." + +"You sympathize with her?" exclaimed Martel in astonishment. + +"Deeply! I am not so sorry the man was killed, but a wife has rights. +She will doubtless follow him." + +"Do you believe in the vendetta?" Norvin asked, curiously. + +"Who does not? The law is full of tricks. There is a saying which runs, +'The gallows for the poor, justice for the fool!'" + +"You are a Mafiosa," cried the scandalized aunt. + +"It is one of Aliandro's sayings. He has lived a life! He often tells +me stories." + +"Aliandro is a terrible liar," Martel declared. "I fear his adventures +are much like his rheumatism." + +"You do not exact a reckoning from your enemies in America?" queried +Margherita. + +"Oh, we do, but not with quite so much enthusiasm as you do," Blake +answered her. "We aren't ordinarily obliged to kill people in order to +protect our property, and wives don't go about threatening vengeance +when their husbands meet with accidents. The police take care of such +things." + +"A fine country! It must be so peaceful for old people," ejaculated the +aunt. + +"We have some outlaws, to be sure, like your notorious Belisario +Cardi--" + +"Cardi is but a name," said the girl. "He does not exist." + +Intercepting a warning glance from Martel, Blake said no more, and the +talk drifted to more agreeable subjects. + +But the Count, being possessed of a nervous temperament which called +for constant motion, could not long remain inactive, and now, having +poured his extravagant devotion into his sweetheart's ears, he rose, +saying: + +"I must go to the village. The baker, the confectioner, the butcher, +all have many things to prepare for the festa, and I must order the +fireworks from Messina. Norvin will remain here while Ricardo and I +complete the arrangements. I tell you it will be a celebration to +awaken the countryside. For an hour then, addio!" He touched his lips +to Margherita's fingers and, bowing to her aunt, ran down the steps. + +"Some gadfly stings him," said the Donna Teresa, fondly. "He is like a +child; he cannot remain seated. He comes, he goes, like the wind. There +is no holding him." + +"So there's to be a festa?" Blake observed with interest. + +"Oh, indeed! It will be a great event. It was Mattel's idea." +Margherita arose and the young man followed. "See, out there upon the +terrace there will be dancing. You have never seen a Sicilian +merrymaking? You have never seen the tarantella! Then you will be +interested. On the night before the ceremony the people will come from +the whole countryside. There will be music, games, fireworks. Oh, it +will be a celebrazione. My cousins from Messina will be here, the +bishop, many fine people. I--I am more excited than Martel. I can +scarcely wait." The girl's face mirrored her emotion and her eyes were +as deep as the sea. She seemed for the moment very far away, uplifted +in contemplation of the great change so soon to occur in her life, and +Norvin began to suspect her of a tremendous depth of feeling. Unknown +even to herself she was smouldering; unawakened fires were stirred by +the consciousness of coming wifehood. Out here in the sun she was more +tawny than ever, and, recalling the threat against her lover, the young +man fell to wondering how she would take misfortune if it ever came. +Feeling his eyes upon her, she met his gaze frankly with a smile. + +"What is it? You have something to say." + +He recovered himself with an effort. + +"No! Only--you are so different from what I expected." + +"And you also," she laughed. "You are much more agreeable; I like you +immensely, and I want you to tell me all about yourself." + +That was a wonderful afternoon for Blake. The Sicilian girl took him +into her confidence without the slightest restraint. There was no +period of getting acquainted; it was as if they had known each other +for a lifetime. He never ceased marveling at her beauty and his ears +grew ever more eager for her voice. Martel made no secret of his +delight at their instantaneous liking for each other, and the dinner +that evening was the gayest that had brightened Terranova for years. + +Inasmuch as the ride to San Sebastiano was long, the young men were +forced to leave early, but they were scarcely out of hearing before +Martel drew his horse in beside Norvin and, laying a hand upon his +friend's arm, inquired, breathlessly: + +"Well? Come, come, brother of mine! You know I perish of eagerness. +What have you to say? The truth, between man and man." + +Blake answered him with an odd hesitation: + +"You must know without asking. There's nothing to say--except that +she--she is like a golden flame. She sets one afire. She is +different--wonderful. I--I--" + +"Exactly!" Savigno laughed with keenest contentment. "There is no +other." + +When Blake retired that night it was not to sleep at once, for he was +troubled by a growing fear of himself that would not be lightly put +aside. + + + + +IV + +THE FEAST AT TERRANOVA + + + +During the next few days Norvin Blake saw much of the Countess +Margherita, for every afternoon he and Martel rode to Terranova. The +preparations for the wedding neared completion and the consciousness of +a coming celebration had penetrated the countryside. Among all who +looked forward to the big event, perhaps the one who watched the hours +fly with the greatest degree of suspense was the American. He had half +faced the truth on that night after his first meeting with the girl, +and the succeeding days enforced the conviction he would have been glad +to escape. He could no longer doubt that he was in love, madly +infatuated with his best friend's fiancee, and the knowledge came like +some crushing misfortune. It could scarcely be called a love at first +sight, for he felt that he had always known and always loved this girl. +He had never believed in these sudden obsessions, and more than once +had been amused at Martel's ability to fall violently in love at a +moment's notice, and to fall as quickly out again, but in spite of his +coolest reasoning and sternest self-reproach he found the spell too +strong for him. Every decent instinct commanded him to uproot this +passion; every impetuous impulse burst into sudden flame and consumed +his better sense, his judgment, and his loyalty, leaving him shaken and +doubtful. Although this was his first serious soul conflict, he +possessed more than average self-control, and he managed to conceal his +feelings so well that Martel, who was the embodiment of loyalty and +generosity, never for a moment suspected the truth. As for the girl, +she was too full of her own happiness to see anything amiss. She took +her lover's comrade into her heart with that odd unrestraint which +characterized her, and, recognizing the bond which united the two young +men, she strove to widen it sufficiently to include herself. It spoke +well for her that she felt no jealousy of that love which a man bears +for his life's best friend, but rather strove to encourage it. Her +intense desire to be a part of her lover and share all his affections +led her to strive earnestly for a third place in the union, with the +result that Blake saw even more of her than did Savigno. She +deliberately set herself the task of winning the American, a task +already more than accomplished, had she but known it, and, although for +some women such a course would have been neither easy nor safe, with +her a misconception of motive was impossible. + +She had an ardent, almost reckless manner of attacking problems; she +was as intense and yet as changeful as a flame. Blake watched her +varying moods with the same fascination with which one regards a +wind-blown blaze, recognizing, even in her moments of repression, that +she was ready to burst forth anew at the slightest breath. She was the +sort of woman to dominate men, to inspire them with tremendous +enthusiasm for good or for evil as they chanced to lean toward the one +or the other. While she seemed wholly admirable, she exercised a +damnable effect upon Norvin. He was tortured by a thousand devils, he +was possessed by dreams and fancies hitherto strange and unrecognized. +The nervous strain began to tell in time; he slept little, he grew +weary of the struggle, things became unreal and distorted. He longed to +end it all by fleeing from Sicily, and had there been more time he +would have arranged for a summons to America. His mother had not been +well for a long time, and he was tempted to use this fact as an excuse +for immediate departure, but the thought that Martel needed him acted +as an effective restraint. The vague menace of La Mafia still hung over +the Count and was not lessened by the receipt of a second threatening +letter a few days after Blake's arrival. + +Cardi wrote again, demanding instant compliance with the terms +contained in his first communication. Savigno was directed to send +Ricardo Ferara at a given hour to a certain crossroads above San +Sebastiano with ten thousand lire. In that case candles would be burned +and masses said for the soul of the murdered Galli, so the writer +promised. The letter put no penalty upon a failure to comply with these +demands, beyond a vague prediction of evil. It was short and +business-like and very much to the point. + +As this was the first document of the kind Norvin had ever seen, he was +greatly interested in it. + +"Don't you think it may be the work of this fellow Narcone?" he +inquired. "I understand he is the brother-in-law of Galli." + +"Narcone would scarcely undertake so bold a piece of blackmail," the +Count declared. "I knew him slightly before he gave himself to the +campagna. He was a butcher; he was brutal and domineering, but he was a +coward." + +"It is not from Narcone," Ricardo pronounced, positively--they had +called in the overseer for the discussion--"he is grossolano. He can +neither read nor write. This letter is well spelled and well written." + +"Then you think it is really from Cardi?" + +Ricardo shrugged his square shoulders. "Who knows? Some say there is no +such person, others declare he went to America years ago." + +"What is your belief?" + +"I know a man who has seen him." + +"Who?" + +"Aliandro." + +"Bah! Aliandro is such a liar!" exclaimed Savigno. + +"However that may be, he has seen things in his time. He says that +Cardi is not what people suppose him to be--a brigand--except when it +suits his desires. That is why he comes and goes and the carabinieri +can never trace him. That is why he is at home in all parts of Sicily; +that is why he uses men like Narcone when he chooses." + +"It would please me to capture the wretch," said Martel. + +"Let's try it," Norvin suggested, and accordingly a trap was laid. + +Four carabinieri were sent to the appointed place, ahead of time, with +directions to conceal themselves, and Ferara carried out his part of +the programme. But no one came to meet him, he encountered no one +coming or going to the crossroads, and returned greatly disgusted. +However, at his suggestion Colonel Neri stationed the four soldier +policemen at the castello to prevent any demonstration and to profit by +any development which might occur. + +The young men did not permit this diversion to interrupt their daily +trips to Terranova, although as a matter of precaution they added +Ippolito to their party. He was delighted at the change of duty, +because, as Norvin discovered, it brought him to the side of Lucrezia +Ferara. Thus it happened that Martel had reason to regret the choice of +his bodyguard, for on the very first visit Ippolito began to strut and +swagger before the girl and allowed the secret to escape him, whereupon +it was carried to the Countess. + +She appealed to Martel to leave San Sebastiano for the time being, to +postpone the wedding, or at least to go to Messina for it; but of +course he refused and tried to laugh down her misgivings, and of course +she appealed privately to Blake for assistance. + +"You must use your influence to change his mind," she said, earnestly. +"He declares he will not be overawed by these ruffians. He says that to +pay them the least attention would be to encourage them to another +attempt when we return, but--he does not know the Mafia as I know it. +You will do this for me?" + +"Of course, if you wish it, although I agree with Martel, and I'm sure +he won't listen to me. He can't play the coward. The wedding is only +two days off now. Why, to-morrow is the gala-day! How could he notify +the whole district, when all his preparations have been completed? What +excuse could he give without confessing his fear and making himself +liable to a later and stronger attack?" + +"The country people need not know anything about it. Let them come and +make merry. He can leave now, tonight. We will join him at Messina." + +Norvin shook his head. "I'll do what I can, since you wish it, but I'm +sure he won't consent to any change of plan. I'm sure, also, that you +are needlessly troubled." + +"Perhaps," she acknowledged, doubtfully. "And yet Martel's father--" + +"Yes, yes. But conditions are not what they were fifteen years ago. +This is merely a blackmailing scheme, and if he ignores it he'll +probably never hear of it again. On the other hand, if he allows it to +drive him away it will be repeated upon his return." + +She searched his face with her eyes, and his wits reeled at her earnest +gaze. He was conscious of a single wild desire that such anxiety might +be for him. How gladly he would yield to her wishes--how gladly he +would yield to any wish of hers! He was a foreigner; he hated this +island and its people, for the most part, and yet if he stood in +Martel's place he would willingly change his life to correspond with +hers. He would become Sicilian in body and soul. She had the power to +dissolve his habits, his likes and dislikes, and reconstruct him +through and through. + +"I hope you are right," she said at last. "And yet--it is said that no +one escapes the Mafia." + +"This isn't the Mafia. It is the work of some brigand--" + +"What is the difference? The one merges into the other. Blood has been +spilled; the forces are at work." + +Suddenly she seized him by the arm, and her eyes blazed. "Look you," +she cried, "if Martel should be injured, if these men should dare--all +Sicily would not hold them. No power could save them, no hiding-place +could be so secret, no lies so cunning, that I would not know. You +understand?" + +Blake saw that the girl was at last aroused to that intensity of +feeling which he had recognized as latent in her. Love had caused her +to glow, but it had required this breath of fear to fan the fire into +full strength. He was deeply moved and answered simply: "I understand. +I--never knew how much you loved him." + +Her humor changed, and she smiled. + +"One is foolish, perhaps, to be so frank, but that is my nature. You +would not have me change it?" + +"You couldn't if you tried." + +"Martel has always known I loved him. I could never conceal it. I never +wished to. If he had not seen it I would have told him. Just now, when +I heard he was threatened--well, you see." + +"Ippolito had no business to mention the matter. I suppose his tongue +ran away with him. Tongues have a way of doing such things when their +owners are in love." + +"He is not for Lucrezia." + +"Why? He's a fine fellow." + +"Oh, but Lucrezia is superior. I have taught her a great many things. +She is more like a sister to me than a servant, and I could not see her +married to a farm-hand. She can do much better than to marry Ippolito." + +"Love goes where it pleases," said the American with so much feeling +that Margherita's eyes leaped to his. + +"You know? Ah, my good friend, then you have loved?" + +He nodded. "I have. I do." + +She was instantly all eagerness, and beamed upon him with a frank +delight that stabbed him. + +"Martel? Does he know?" + +"No, You see, there's no use--no possibility." + +"I'm sorry. There must be some great mistake. I cannot conceive of so +sad a thing." + +"Please don't try," he exclaimed, panic-stricken at thought of the +dangerous ground he was treading and miserably afraid she would guess +the truth in spite of him. + +"I should think any woman might love you," she said, critically, after +a moment's meditation. "You are good and brave and true." + +"Most discerning of women!" he cried, with an elaborate bow. "Those are +but a few of my admirable traits." He was relieved to see that she had +no suspicion of his feelings, for she was extremely quick of wit and +her intuition was keen. No doubt, her failure to read him was due to +her absorption in her own affairs. He had arrived at a better knowledge +of her capabilities to-day and began to realize that she was as +changeable as a chameleon. One moment she could be like the sirocco in +warmth and languor, the next as sparkling as the sunlit ocean. Again +she could be steeped in a dreamy abstraction or alive with a pagan joy +of life. She might have been sixteen or thirty, as her mood chanced to +affect her. Of all the crossed strains that go to make up the Sicilian +race she had inherited more of the Oriental than the Greek or Roman. +Somewhere back in the Ginini family there was Saracen blood, he felt +sure. + +Blake was as good as his word, and made her wishes known to Martel, who +laughingly accused him of a lack of faith in his own arguments. The +Count was bubbling with spirits at the immediate nearness of his +nuptials, and declined to consider anything which might interfere with +them. He joyfully told Blake that the tickets were already bought and +all arrangements made to leave for Messina immediately after the +ceremony, which would take place in the church at Terranova. They would +catch the boat for Naples on the evening after the wedding, he +explained, and Blake was to accompany them at least that far on his way +to America. Meanwhile, he had no intention of foregoing the pleasure of +to-morrow's celebration, even if Belisario Cardi himself should appear, +to dispute his coming. It was the first, the last, and the only time he +intended marrying, and he had promised himself to enjoy the occasion to +the utmost, despite those letters, which, after all, were not to be +taken seriously. So the matter was allowed to stand. + +The country people had begun to assemble when Martel and his friend +arrived at the Ginini manor on the following afternoon, and the grounds +were filling with gaily dressed peasants. The train from Messina had +brought Margherita's relatives, and the bishop had sent word that he +would arrive in ample time for the ceremony on the next morning. The +contadini were coming in afoot, astride of donkeys and mules, or in +gaily painted carts pictured with the miracles of the saints and the +conquests of the Moors. There were dark-haired men and women, +wild-haired boys with roses above their ears, girls with huge ear-rings +and fringed shawls which swept the ground as they walked. As yet they +had not entirely lost their restraint, but Martel went among them with +friendly hand-clasps and exuberant greetings, renewing old +acquaintances and welcoming new until at last their shyness disappeared +and they began to laugh and chatter unaffectedly. + +Savigno had traveled, he told them. He had arranged many surprises for +his friends. There would be games, dances, music, and a wonderful +entertainment in the big striped tent yonder, supplied by a troupe of +players which he had brought all the way from Palermo. As for the +feast, well, the tables were already stretched under the trees, as they +could see, and if any one wished to tantalize his nostrils just let him +wander past the kitchen in the rear, where a dozen women had been at +work since dawn. But that was not all; there would be gifts for the +children and prizes for the best dancers. The handsomest woman would +receive a magnificent shawl the like of which had never been dreamed of +in Terranova, and then to prevent jealousy the others would receive +presents also. But he would not say too much. Let them wait and see. +Finally there would be fireworks, enough to satisfy every one; and all +he asked of them was that they drink the health of the Countess +Margherita and wish her lifelong happiness. It was to be a memorable +occasion, he hoped, and if they did not enjoy themselves as never +before, then he and his bride would feel that their wedding had been a +great, a colossal failure. + +But it seemed, as night approached, that Martel had no reason to doubt +the quality of his entertainment, for the guests gave themselves up to +joy as only southerners can, forgetting poverty, hardship, and all the +grinding cares of their barren lives. They yielded quickly to the +passion of the festa, and Blake began to see Sicily for the first time. +He would have liked to enter into their merrymaking, but felt himself +too much a stranger. + +The feast was elaborate; no ristorante could have equaled it, no one +but a spendthrift lover like Martel would have furnished it. But it was +not until darkness came and the trees began to twinkle and glow with +their myriad lights that the fun reached its highest pitch. Then there +was true Sicilian dancing, true Sicilian joking, love-making. Eyes were +bright, cheeks were flushed, lips were parted, and the halls of +Terranova echoed to a bacchanalian tumult. + +There had been an elaborate supper inside also, to which the more +prominent townspeople had been invited and from which Norvin Blake was +only too eager to escape as it drew to an end. The strain to which he +had been subjected for the past week was growing unbearable, and the +sight of Margherita Ginini clad like a vision in some elaborate +Parisian gown so intensified his distress that he was glad to slip away +into the open air at the first opportunity. He found Ricardo leaning +against the bole of a eucalyptus-tree, observing the throng with +watchful eyes. + +"Why aren't you making merry?" Blake inquired. + +The overseer shrugged his shoulders, replying, somberly, "I am waiting." + +"For what?" + +"Who knows? There are strangers here." + +"You mean,"--Blake's manner changed quickly--"there may be enemies?" + +"If Cardi is in the mountains behind Martinello, may he not be here at +Terranova? I am looking for a thick, black man. Aliandro has described +him." + +"Cardi would scarcely come to a wedding feast," said Blake, with a +certain feeling of uneasiness. + +"Scarcely," the overseer agreed. + +"Have you seen anything?" + +"Nothing." + +"Where is Ippolito?" + +Ricardo grunted. "Asleep in the stable. The imbecile is drunk." + +To the American these Sicilian people looked very much alike. They were +all a bit fantastic, and the scene reminded him of a fancy-dress ball +where all the men represented brigands. Many of them were, or seemed to +be, of truculent countenance; some wore piratical ear-rings, others had +shawls wrapped about their heads as if for concealment. Any one of them +might have been a brigand, for all he knew, and he saw how easy it +would be for a handful of evil-intentioned persons to mingle unobserved +with such a throng. Yet his better sense told him that he was silly to +imagine such things. He had allowed old women's tales to upset his +nerves. + +A half-hour later, as he was watching the crowd from the loggiato, +Margherita appeared, and he thought for a moment that she too might +feel some vague foreboding, but her first words reassured him. + +"My good friend, I missed you," she said, "but I had no chance of +leaving until this moment." Coming close to him, she inquired: "Has +something gone amiss? You have seemed sad all this evening. I do not +know, but I fear your heart is--heavy." + +He answered, unsteadily: "Perhaps it is. I--don't know." + +"It is that certain woman." + +"I dare say. I'm a great fool, you know." + +"Don't say that. This is perhaps the only chance I shall have of seeing +you alone." + +"I'm glad," he broke out in a tone that startled her. "Glad for you. I +have tried not to be a death's-head at your feast, but it has been a +struggle." + +"We women see things. Martel, boy that he is, does not suspect, and yet +I, who have known you so short a time, have read your secret. It is our +happiness which makes you sad." + +"No, no. I'm not that sort. I share your happiness. I want it to +continue." + +"If I had one wish it would be that she might care for you as I care +for Martel. And who knows? Perhaps she may. You say it is impossible, +yet life is full of blind ways and unseen turnings. Somehow I feel that +she will." + +"You are very good," he managed to say. Then yielding to a sudden +impulse, he took her hand and kissed it. A moment later she left him, +but the touch of her cool flesh against his lips remained an +unforgetable impression. + +Savigno appeared, yawning prodigiously. + +"Dio!" he exclaimed with a grimace. "Those cousins of hers are deadly +dull; I do not blame you for escaping. And the judge, and the notary's +wife, and that village doctor! Colonel Neri is a good chap, +notwithstanding his mustache in which he takes so much pride. He nurses +it like a child, and yet it is older than I. Poor friend of mine, you +are a martyr, thus to endure for me." + +"It's tremendously interesting, particularly this part out here," +Norvin asserted. "I saw them dancing what I took to be the tarantella a +moment ago. Those peasant boys are like leaping fauns." + +"Yes, and they will continue to dance for hours yet. I fear the Donna +Teresa will not retire at her usual hour. What a day it has been! It is +fine to give people happiness. That is one of my new discoveries." + +"Remember to-morrow." + +"Believe me, I think of nothing else. That is why we must be going +soon. We cannot wait even for the fireworks, as much as I would like +to. It is a long road to Martinello and we must be up early in the +morning. You do not object?" + +"On the contrary, I was about to bear you off in spite of yourself." + +"Then I will have Ippolito fetch the horses." + +"Ippolito has been demonstrating the mastery of wine over matter. He is +asleep in the manger." + +"Drunk? Oh, the idiot! He has the appetite of a shark, but the belly of +a herring. I ought to warm his soles with a cane," declared Savigno, +angrily. + +"Don't be too hard on him. I suspect Lucrezia would not listen to his +suit, poor chap. He's sick from unrequited passion." + +"Very well, we will leave him to sleep it off. I couldn't be harsh with +him at this time. And now we had best begin presenting our good-nights, +although I hate to go." + + + + +V + +WHAT WAITED AT THE ROADSIDE + + + +To avoid the dampening effect of an early departure the three men rode +out quietly from the courtyard at the rear of the house, leaving the +merrymakers to their fun. + +"So, this is our last ride together," Norvin said, as they left the +valley and began the long ascent of the mountain that lay between them +and Martinello. + +"Yes. Henceforth we spare our horses. You see tomorrow we will take the +morning train. Half of San Sebastiano will accompany us, too, and +everybody will be dressed in his finest. Ricardo here, for instance, +will wear his new brown suit--a glorious affair. Eh, Ricardo?" + +"It would be as well to refrain from speaking," said the overseer, +gruffly. "The road is dark. Who knows what may be waiting?" + +"Nonsense! Be not always a bear. We are three armed men. I fancy +Narcone, nay, even our dreadful Cardi himself, would scarcely dare +molest us." + +Ferara merely grunted and continued to hold his place abreast of his +employer. Norvin observed that he carried his rifle across his +saddle-bow, and involuntarily shifted the strap of his own weapon so +that it might be ready in case of an emergency. He had rebelled, +somewhat, at carrying a firearm, but Martel, after making a clean +breast of his troubles that first morning, had insisted, and the +American had yielded even though he felt ridiculous. + +The sky was moonless to-night but crowded with stars which gave light +enough so that the riders were able to follow the road without +difficulty, although the shadows on either side were dense. The air was +sweet, and so still that the sounds of revelry from Terranova were +plainly audible. Strains of music floated up the hillside, the shouts +of the master of ceremonies came distinctly as he issued his commands +for a country dance. The many lights within the grounds shone cloudily +among the tree-tops far below, like the effulgence from some well-lit +city hidden behind a hill, now disappearing for a time, now shining out +again as the road pursued its meanderings. The hurried footfalls of the +horses thudded steadily in the soft dust; the saddles creaked with that +music which lulls a horseman like a song. + +"Youth! Youth! What a glorious thing it is!" exclaimed Martel after a +fruitless attempt to hold his tongue. "Ricardo would have us go +prowling like robbers when our hearts are singing loud enough for all +the mountainside to hear. There is no evil in the world to-night, for +the world is in love; to-morrow it bursts into happiness! And I am king +over it all!" + +"I shall be glad to be rid of you, just the same," grumbled the old man. + +"Ricardo alone has fears, but he was never young. Think you that the +gods would permit my wedding-day to be marred? Bah! One can see evil +before it comes; it casts a shadow; it has a chilling breath which any +one with sensibilities can feel. As for me, I see the future as clearly +as if it were spread out before me in the sunshine, and there is no +misfortune in it anywhere. I cannot conceive of misfortune, with all +this gladness and expectancy inside me." + +"They have begun the fireworks," said Blake. "It's too bad you couldn't +stay to see them, Martel." He turned in his saddle, and the others +reined in as a rocket soared into the night sky and burst with a shower +of sparks. Others followed and a detonation sounded faintly. + +"Poor people!" said the Count, gently. "I can hear them crying, 'Oh!' +'Ah!' 'Beautiful!' 'It is an angel from heaven!'" + +"On the contrary, I'll warrant they're exclaiming, 'It is that angel +from San Sebastiano.' You have given them a great night." + +The Count laughed. "Yes. They will have much to talk and dream about. +Their lives are very barren, you know, and I hope the Countess and I +will be able to make them brighter as the years go by. Oh, I have +plans, caro mio, so many plans I scarcely know where to begin or how to +talk about them. I could never be an artist, no matter how furiously I +painted, no matter how many beautiful women I drew; but I can paint +smiles upon the faces of those sad women down yonder. I can bring +happiness into their lives. And that will be a picture to look back +upon, eh? Don't you think so? When they learn to know me, when they +learn to love and trust me, there will be brighter days at Terranova +and at San Sebastiano." + +"They love you now, I am sure." + +"I am too much a stranger yet. I have neglected my duties, but--well, +in my travels I have learned some things that will be of benefit to us +all. I see so much to do. It is delightful to be young and full of +hopes, and to have the means of realizing them. Above all, it is +delicious to know that there is one who will share those ambitions and +efforts with you. I see Ricardo is disgusted with me, but he is a +pessimist. He does not believe in charity and love." + +"What foolish talk!" protested the old man with heat. "Do I not love my +girl Lucrezia? Do I not love you, the Countess, and--and--perhaps a few +others?" + +Martel laughed. "I was merely teasing you." + +They resumed their journey, leaving the showering meteors behind them, +and the Count, in the lightness of his heart, began humming a tune. + +As for Blake, he rode as silently as Ferara, being lost in +contemplation of a happiness in which he had no part. Not until this +moment had he realized how entirely unnecessary he was to the existence +of Martel and Margherita. He longed to remain a part of them, but saw +that his desire was vain. They were complete without him, their lives +would be full. He began to feel like a stranger already. It was a new +sensation, for he had always seemed to be a factor in the lives of +those about him; but Martel had changed with the advent of new +interests and ambitions. Sicily, too, was different from any land he +knew, and even Margherita Ginini was hard to understand. She seemed to +be the spirit of Sicily made flesh and blood. He wondered if the very +fact that she was so unusual might not help him to forget her once he +was away from her influence. He hoped so, for this last week had been +the most painful period of his life. He had come south, somewhat +against his will, for a kaleidoscopic glimpse of Europe, never dreaming +that he would carry back to America anything more than the usual +flitting memories of a pleasant trip; but instead he was destined to +take with him a single vivid picture. He argued that he was merely +infatuated with the girl, carried away by the allurement of a new and +remarkable type of woman, and that these headlong passions were neither +healthy nor lasting; but his reasoning brought him no real sense of +conviction, and his life, as he looked forward to it, appeared +singularly flat and stale. His one consolation, poor as it seemed, lay +in the fact that he had played the man to the best of his ability and +was really glad, even if a bit envious, of Martel's good-fortune. + +He let his thoughts run free in this manner, sitting his horse +listlessly, for he was tired mentally and physically, watching the gray +road idly as it slipped past beneath the muffled hoofs, and lulled by +Savigno's musical humming. + +It was while he was still in this half-somnolent, semidetached frame of +mind that he rode into a sudden white-hot whirl of events. + +Norvin Blake was never clear in his mind regarding the precise sequence +of the action that followed, for he was snatched too quickly from his +mental relaxation to retain any well-defined impressions. He recalled +vaguely that the road lay like a mysterious canon walled in with +darkness, and that his thoughts were miles away when his horse shied +without warning, nearly unseating him and bringing him back to a sense +of his surroundings with a shock. Simultaneously he heard a cry from +Ricardo; it was a scream of agony, cutting through Savigno's song like +a saber stroke. For a moment Blake's heart seemed to stop, then began +pounding crazily. A stream of fire leaped out at his left side, +splitting the quiet night with a detonation. The wood which had lain so +silent and deserted an instant before was lit by answering flashes, the +blackness at an arm's-length on every side was stabbed by wicked +tongues of flame, and the road swarmed with grotesque bodies leaping +and tumbling and fighting. Blake's horse reared as something black rose +up beneath its forefeet and snatched at its bridle; Martel's steed +lurched into it, then fell kicking and screaming, sending its mate +careening to the roadside. The unexpected movement wrenched Norvin's +feet from the stirrups and left him clinging desperately to mane and +cantle. + +It all came with a terrifying swiftness--quite as if the three riders +had crossed over a powder-train at the instant of its eruption, to find +themselves, in the fraction of a second, involved in chaos. + +Ricardo's horse thundered away, riderless, leaving a squirming, +wriggling confusion of forms in the road where the overseer was +battling for his life. Martel's voice rose shrilly in a curse, and then +Norvin felt himself dragged roughly from his saddle, whether by human +hands or by some overhanging tree-branch he never knew. The force of +his fall bruised and stunned him, but he struggled weakly to his feet +only to find himself in the grasp of a man whose black visage fronted +his own. He tried to break away, but his bones were like rope, his +muscles were flabby and shaking. He exerted no more force than a child. +In front of him something sickening, something unspeakably foul and +horrible, was going on, and in its presence he was wholly unmanned. +More hands seized him quickly, but he lacked the vigor to attempt an +escape. On the contrary, he hung limp and paralyzed with terror. The +mystery, the uncertainty, the hideous significance of that wordless +scuffle in the dusty road rendered him nerveless, and he cried out +shakingly, like a man in a nightmare. + +A voice commanded him to be silent, a hot breath beat against his +cheek; but he could not restrain his hysteria, and one of his captors +began to throttle him. He heard his name called and saw Savigno's +figure outlined briefly against the gray background, saw another figure +blend with it, then heard Martel's voice end in a rising cry which +lived to haunt his memory. It rose in protest, in surprise, as if the +Count doubted even at the last that death could really claim him. Then +it broke in a thin, wavering shriek. + +Blake may have fainted; at any rate, his body was beyond his control, +and his next remembrance was of being half dragged, half thrust forward +out into the lesser shadows. There was no longer any struggling, +although men were speaking excitedly and he could hear them panting; +some one was working the ejector of a rifle as if it had stuck. A tall +man was wiping his hands upon some dried grass pluck'ed from the +roadside, and he was cursing. + +"Who is this?" he cried, thrusting his face into the American's and +showing a brutal countenance bristly with a week's growth of beard. + +"The stranger," one of Blake's captors answered, whereupon the tall man +uttered a violent exclamation. + +"Wait!" cried the other. "He is already dying. He cannot stand." + +Some one else explained, "It is indeed the American, but he is wounded." + +"Let me finish the work; he has seen too much," said the first speaker, +roughly. + +"No, no! He is the American. Do you not understand?" + +"Remember the order, Narcone," cautioned another. + +But Narcone continued to curse as if mastered by the craving to kill, +and if the others had not laid hands upon him he might have made good +his intention. They argued with him, all at once, and in the midst of +the confusion which ensued a new voice called from the darkness: + +"What have you there?" + +"The American! He cannot stand." + +A square figure came swiftly through the group, muttering angrily, and +the others fell back to give him room, all but Narcone, who repeated, +doggedly: + +"Let me finish the work if you fear to do so." + +His companions broke out at him again in a babble of argument, +whereupon the new-comer shouted at them in a furious voice: + +"Silenzio! Who did this?" + +No one answered for a moment, but at length the brigand who held +Blake's hands pinioned at his back with a sash or scarf ventured to +suggest: + +"I am not so sure he is injured. We pulled him down first; he may only +be frightened." + +"There was to be no shooting," growled the leader of the band. + +"Eh? But you saw for yourself. There was nothing else to do," said +Narcone. "That Ricardo was an old wolf." + +The thick-set man, whom Norvin took to be the infamous Cardi himself, +cried sharply: + +"Come, come, Signore, speak! Are you hurt?" + +The prisoner shook his head mechanically, although he did not know +whether he was injured or not. His denial seemed to satisfy the chief, +who said with relief: + +"It is well. We did not wish to harm you. There would be consequences, +you understand? And now a match, somebody." + +"It is not necessary," Narcone assured him with a laugh. "Of what use +to learn a trade like mine if one cannot strike true? The knife went +home, twice--once for us, once for poor Galli, who was murdered. It was +like killing sheep." Picking up the wisp of grass which he had dropped, +he began to dry his hands once more. + +A tiny flame flickered in the darkness. It was lowered until it shone +upon the upturned face of Ricardo Ferara where he lay sprawled in the +dust, his teeth showing beneath his gray mustache, then died away, and +the black outlines of the bull-necked man leaped into relief again as +he stooped to examine Martel. + +Not until that instant did the full, crushing horror of the affair come +home to the American, for events had crowded one another so closely +that his mind was confused; but when, in the halting yellow glare, he +saw those two slack forms and the crooked, unnatural postures in which +death had left them, his consciousness cleared and he strained at his +bonds like a fear-maddened horse. + +His actual danger, however, was at an end. One of the band removed the +rifle which still hung from his shoulders and which he had forgotten; +another slipped the scarf from his wrists and directed him to go. He +staggered away down the road along which he and Martel and Ricardo had +come, walking like a sick man, for he was crippled with, fright. After +a few steps he began to run, heavily, awkwardly at first, stumbling as +if his joints were loose; but as his body awoke and the blood surged +through him he went faster and faster until he was fleeing like a wild +animal. And as he ran his terror grew. He fell many times, goblin +shapes pursued him or leaped forth from the shadows, but he knew that +no matter how fast he fled he could never escape the thing he had met +back there in the night. It was not the grisly sight of his murdered +friend nor the bared teeth of Ricardo Ferara grinning upward out of the +road which filled him with the greatest horror; it was the knowledge of +his own foul, sickening cowardice. He ran wildly as if to leave it +behind, but it trod in his tracks and kept step with him. + +The pyrotechnics at Terranova were nearly over and the grounds echoed +to the applause of the delighted spectators. The Donna Teresa was +leaning upon the arm of Colonel Neri and saying: + +"No one but that extravagant Martel would have entertained these poor +people so magnificently, but there is no reasoning with him when he has +an idea." + +"It is the finest display since the fair at San Felice two years ago," +the Colonel acknowledged. They had come out upon the open piazza which +overlooked the lawn, and the other guests who had been present at the +supper had followed suit and were gathered there to admire the +spectacle. + +"The country people will never finish discussing it. Why, it has been +the greatest event this village ever witnessed. And Margherita! Have +you ever seen her so beautiful?" The old lady spoke with pride, for she +was very happy. + +"Never!" Colonel Neri fondled his mustache tenderly. "She is ablaze +with love. Oh, that Martel has broken all our hearts, lucky fellow! I +could hate him if I did not like him so." + +"You men, without exception, pretend to adore her but it is flattery; +you know that she loves it and that it pleases me. Now Martel--Madonna +mia! What is this?" She broke off sharply and pointed toward the main +gateway to the grounds. + +By the light that gleamed from the trees on each side of the driveway +men could be seen approaching at a run; others were hurrying toward +them across the terrace, calling excitedly to one another. A woman +screamed something unintelligible, but the tone of her voice brought a +hush over the merrymakers. + +In the midst of the group coming up the road was one who labored +heavily. He was bareheaded, gray with dust, and he staggered as if +wounded. + +"Some one has been hurt," exclaimed the Colonel. "Maledetto! There has +been a fight." He dropped his companion's arm and hastened to the +steps, then halfway down paused, staring. He whirled quickly and cried +to the old lady: "Wait! Do not come." + +But Madame Fazello had seen the white face of the runner, and screamed: + +"Mother of God! The American!" + +The other guests from the balcony pressed forward with alarmed +inquiries. No one guessed as yet what had befallen, but the loud voices +died away, a murmuring tide swept the merrymakers toward the castello. + +"What has happened, Signore?" Colonel Neri was crying. "Speak!" + +"The Mafia!" Blake gasped. "Martel--is--" His knees sagged and he would +have pitched forward had not the soldier supported him. "We met +them--in the woods. Cardi--" + +"Cardi!" echoed the Colonel in a harsh voice. + +"Cardi!" came from a dozen frightened throats. The Donna Teresa uttered +a second shrill cry, and then through the ranks of staring, chalk-faced +peasants the Countess came running swiftly. + +"Cardi!" she cried. "What is this I hear?" + +"Go away, Signorina, I beseech you," exclaimed the Colonel of +carbineers. "Something dreadful has occurred." But she disregarded him +and faced Norvin Blake. + +He raised his dripping, dust-smeared face and nodded, whereat she +closed her eyes an instant and swayed. But she made no outcry. + +"Take her--away," he wheezed painfully. "God in heaven! Don't +you--understand?" + +Even yet there was no coherent speech and the people merely stared at +one another or inquired, dully: + +"What did he say? What is this about Cardi?" + +"Take her away," Blake repeated. But the Countess recovered herself and +with a little gesture bade him go on. He told his story haltingly, +clinging to the Colonel to prevent himself from falling, his matted +head rolling weakly from side to side. When he had finished a furious +clamor broke forth from the men, the women, and the children. Neri +commanded them roughly to silence. + +"Run to the village, some one, and give the alarm," he ordered in the +voice of a sick man. "Call Sandro and his men and bid them bring extra +horses." + +A half-dozen fleet-footed youths broke away and were off before he had +finished speaking. Then Blake was helped into the hall of the castello, +where the confusion was less. + +Lucrezia Ferara, who had been in the rear of the house and was among +the last to hear the evil tidings, came running to him with colorless +lips and eyes distended, crying: + +"The truth, Signore, for the love of Christ! They tell me he is +murdered, but I know it is a lie." + +The notary's wife attempted to calm her, but the girl began to scream, +flinging herself upon her knees at the feet of the American, begging +him to tell her it was all a mistake. + +"My father would not die," she cried, loudly. "He was here but an hour +ago and he kissed me." + +She would not be calmed and became so violent that it required force to +remove her. As soon as she was out of the way, Colonel Neri began +questioning Norvin rapidly, at the same time striving by his own +example to steady the young man, who was in a terrible condition of +collapse. Bit by bit, the soldier learned all there was to learn of the +shocking story, and through it all the Countess Margherita stood at his +elbow, never speaking. Her eyes were glazed with horror, her lips were +whispering something over and over, but when her cousin appealed to her +to leave the scene she seemed not to hear him. She only stood and +stared at the exhausted man until he could bear it no longer and, +hiding his face in his hands, he began to shiver and cringe and sob. + +It seemed to him that she must know; that all these people must know +the truth, and see his shame as if it were blazoned in fire. Their +horror was for him; their looks were changing even now to contempt and +hatred. Why did they not accuse him openly instead of staring with +wide, shocked eyes? Realization had come to him long before he had +reached Terranova, and he was sick with loathing for himself. Now, +therefore, in every blanched cheek, in every parted lip, he felt an +accusation. He supposed all the world would have to know it, and it was +a thing he could never live down. He wished he might have died as +Martel had died, might die even now, and escape this torture; but with +every breath life flowed back into him, his heart was no longer +bursting, his lungs were no longer splitting. + +"Why do you wait?" he queried at length, thinking of Martel out there +on the lonely mountainside. "Why don't you go fetch him?" + +Neri said, soothingly: "Help will be here in a few moments, Signore. +You could not sit a horse yet a while." + +"I?" Blake asked blankly, and shuddered. So they expected him to return +through that darkness--to guide them to the horror from which he had +just fled! He would not go! His mind recoiled at the thought and terror +came upon him afresh. Nevertheless, he made an effort at self-control, +lurched to his feet, and chattered through clicking teeth: "Come on! +I'm ready." + +"Presently! Presently! There will be men and horses here in a moment." +In a lower tone the Colonel urged: "For the love of our Saviour, can +you not send the Contessa away? I am afraid she is dying." + +Blake went to the girl and laid a shaking hand upon her arm, +stammering, wretchedly: + +"Contessa, you--you--" He could not go on and turned appealingly to the +others. + +"You say he is dead?" she inquired dully. "How can that be when you +told me there was no danger?" + +"I did not know. Oh--" he lowered his working features. "If it had only +been I, instead!" + +She nodded. "That would have been better." + +From somewhere to the rear of the house came the shrill screams of +Lucrezia, and the Countess cried: "Poor child! They did not even spare +Ricardo, but--after all, he was only a father." + +Neri said, gently: "Let me help you, Signorina. The doctor is with your +aunt, but I will call him." + +"He cannot give me back Martel," she answered in the same dull, +lifeless tone. + +Voices, footsteps, sounded outside and a man in the cocked hat and +uniform of a lieutenant of carbineers came briskly into the hall and +saluted his superior. + +"We are ready, sir." + +The Countess roused herself, saying: "Then come! I too am ready." + +"Heaven above us!" Neri faltered. "You are not going." He took her by +the hand and led her away from the door. "No, my child, we will go +alone. You must wait." His face was twitching, and the sweat dripped +from his square jaw as he nodded to Blake. + +They went out into the mocking glare of the garden lights, leaving her +standing in the great hall like a statue of ivory, her lips dumbly +framing the name of her lover. + + + + +VI + +A NEW RESOLVE + + + +All Sicily blazed with the account of the assassination of the Count of +Martinello and his overseer. All Italy took it up and called for +vengeance. There went forth to the world by wire, by post, and through +the public press a many-voiced and authoritative promise that the +brigandage which had cursed the island for so many generations should +be extirpated. The outrage was the one topic of conversation from +Trapani to Genoa, from Brindisi to Venice, in clubs, in homes, upon the +streets. Carbineers and soldiers came pouring into Terranova and San +Sebastiano. They scoured the mountains and patrolled the roads; they +searched the houses and farms, the valleys and thickets, and as the +days dragged on, proving the futility of their efforts, still more +carbineers arrived. But no trace of Cardi, of Narcone, or of the other +outlaws was discovered. Rewards were offered, doubled, trebled; the +north coast seethed with excitement. + +The rank of the young Count and his fiancee enlisted the interest of +the nobility, the lively-minded middle classes were romantically +stirred by the picture of the lonely girl stricken on the eve of her +wedding, and yet notwithstanding the fact that towns were searched, +forests dragged as with a net, no quarry came to bay. + +Colonel Neri explained it to Norvin, as he rode in to San Sebastiano +after thirty-six hours in the saddle. + +"It is this accursed Sicilian Mafia," he growled. "The common people +are shocked, horrified, sympathetic, and yet they fear to show their +true feelings. They dare not tell what they know. Mark you, those men +are not hiding in the forests, they are here in San Sebastiano or the +other villages under our very noses; perhaps they are strutting the +streets of Palermo or Bagheria or Messina marked by a hundred eyes, +discussed by a hundred tongues, and yet we cannot surprise a look or +win the slightest hint. Fifty arrests have been made, but there will be +fifty alibis proven. It is maddening, it is damnable, it is--Sicily!" +He swore wearily beneath his breath, and twirled his mustache with +listless fingers. + +"Then you are losing hope?" + +"No. I had none to begin with, for I know these people. But we are +doing everything possible. God in heaven! The country is wild. From +Rome has come the order, definite, explicit, to stamp out the banditti, +if it requires an army; enough soldiers are coming to defeat the +Germans. But the more we have the less we shall accomplish. 'Sweep +Sicily!' 'Stamp out the Mafia!' What does Rome know about the Mafia? +Signore, did we arrest one half of those whom we know to be Mafiosi, +Rome would need to send us, not an army of soldiers, but regiments of +stone masons to enlarge our prisons. No! Send back the armed men, give +me ten thousand of your American dollars, and ten of my carbineers, and +I will catch Cardi, though it would require the cunning of the devil. +However, we may find something; who can tell? At any rate we will try." + +"Can't you work secretly?" + +"It is being done, but we are too many. We make too much noise. The +Sicilian distrusts the law and above all he distrusts his neighbor. He +will perjure himself to acquit a Mafioso rather than betray him and +become a victim of his vengeance. He who talks little is wise. Of that +which does not concern him he says neither good nor evil; that is a +part of the Sicilians' training. But--miracles have happened, and God +may intervene for that saintly girl at Terranova. And now tell me, how +is the poor child bearing up?" + +"I haven't seen her since we brought in Martel's body. I couldn't, in +fact, although I have sent word for her to call me when she is ready. +It seems a long time since--since--" + +Neri shook his head in sorrowful agreement. + +"I have never seen such grief. My heart bleeds. She was so still! Not a +tear! Not an outcry! It was terrible! Weak women do not act in that +manner. But you have suffered also, and I judge you have rested no more +than I." + +"I can't rest," Blake said, dully. "I can do nothing but think." He did +not reveal the nature of the thoughts which in the short space of +thirty-six hours had put lines into his face. Instead, he scanned the +officer's countenance with fearful eyes to see if by any chance he had +guessed the truth. Blake had found himself looking thus at every one +since the tragedy, and it was a source of constant wonder to him that +his secret had remained his own. It seemed that they must know and +loathe him as he loathed himself. But on the contrary he was treated +with sympathy on all sides, and it was taken merely as an example of +the outlaws' cunning that they had refrained from injuring a foreigner. +To illustrate how curiously the Sicilian mind works on these subjects, +there were some who even spoke of it as demonstrating the fairness of +the bandits, thus to exclude Savigno's friend from any connection with +their quarrel. + +During the long hours since the night of his friend's death Blake had +looked at himself in all his nakedness of soul, and the sight was not +pleasant. He could never escape the thought that if he had acted the +part of a man, if he had resisted with the promptness and vigor of his +companions, the result might have been different and Martel might at +this moment be on his way to Rome with his bride, alive and well. On +such occasions he felt like a murderer. But his mind was not always +undivided in this self-condemnation; there were times when with some +show of justice he told himself that the result would have been the +same or even worse if he had fought; and he tried to ease his +conscience by dwelling on the possibility that under other +circumstances he might not have proved a coward. He had been physically +tired, worn out; his nervous force had been spent. At the moment of +ambush his mind had been far away and he had had no time in which to +gather his wits. Moral courage, he knew, is quite different from +physical courage, which may depend upon one's digestion, one's state of +mind, or the amount of sleep one has had. It is sometimes present in +physical weaklings, and men of great daring may entirely lack it. A +man's behavior when suddenly attacked and overpowered is a test of his +nerve rather than his true nature. Still, at the last, he was always +faced by the stark, ugly fact that he had been tried and found wanting. +Conversation with Neri he found rather a relief. + +"I wonder what the Countess will do?" he said. + +"What would any one do? She will grieve for a long while, but time will +gradually rob her of her sorrow. She will remember Martel as a saint +and marry some sinner like you or me." + +"Marry? Never!" + +"Never?" The Colonel raised his brows. "She is young, she is human, she +is full of fire. It would be a great pity if she did not allow herself +to love--a great pity indeed." + +"I'm afraid she's thinking more of vengeance than of love." + +"Perhaps, but hatred is short-lived, while love grows younger all the +time. The world is full of great loves, but great hates usually consume +themselves quickly. I hope she will leave all thoughts of such things +to us who make a business of them." + +"If you fail, as you fear, she might feel bound to take up the task +where you leave it." + +"And she might succeed. But--" + +"But what?" + +"Revenge is a cold bedfellow, and women are designed to cherish finer +sentiments. As for Lucrezia, she will doubtless swear a vendetta, like +those Sardinians." + +"She has." + +"Indeed! Well, she is the kind to nourish hatred, for she is like her +father, silent, somber, unforgiving, whereas the Contessa is all +sunshine. But hear me talk! I am dying of fatigue. The funeral is at +twelve? It will be very sad and the poor girl will be under the +greatest strain then, so we must be with her, you and I. And then I +must be off again upon the trail of this infamous Cardi, who is, and +who is not. Ah, well!" He yawned widely. "We may accomplish the +impossible, or if not we may press him so closely that he will sail for +your America, which would not be so bad, after all." + +Of course the country people turned out for the funeral, but for the +most part they came from curiosity. To Norvin the presence of such +spectators at the last sacred rites for the dead seemed sacrilegious, +indecent, and he knew that it must add to Margherita's pain. It was an +endless, heart-rending ordeal, a great somber, impressive pageant, of +which he remembered little save a tall, tawny girl crushed beneath a +grief so great that his own seemed trivial in comparison. + +She was in such a state of physical collapse after the service that she +did not send for him until the second day following. He came timidly +even then, for he was at a loss how to comfort her, vividly conscious +as he was of his own guilt and shame. He found her crouched upon one of +the old stone benches in the garden in the full hot glare of the sun. +It relieved him to find that she had lost her unnatural self-control, +having fallen, it seemed, into much the same mood he would have +expected in any woman. It had been so hard to find what to say +heretofore--for she was braver than those about her and her grief was +so deep as to render words of comfort futile. Her eyes now were heavy +and full of haunting shadows, her ivory cheeks were pale, her lips +tremulous, and she seemed at last to crave sympathy. + +"I do not know why I have summoned you," she said, leaving her hand in +his, "unless it is because my loneliness has begun and I lack the +courage to face it." + +"I have been waiting. It will always be so, Contessa. I shall come from +across the world whenever you need me." + +She smiled listlessly. "You are very good. I knew you were waiting. It +seems so strange to know that he is gone"--her voice caught, her eyes +filled, then cleared without overflowing--"and that the world is moving +on again in the same way and only I am left standing by the wayside. +You cannot wait with me; you must move on with the rest of the world. +You had planned to go home, and you must, for you have your work and it +calls you." + +"Please don't think of it. I sha'n't leave you for a long time. I +promised Martel--" + +"You promised? Then he had reason to suspect?" + +"He would not acknowledge the possibility, and yet he must have had a +premonition." + +"Oh, why will men trust themselves when women know! If he had told me, +if he had confided his fears to me, I could have told him what to do." + +"I couldn't leave now, even if I wished, for I might be needed by +the--the law. You understand? It isn't finished with me yet." + +"The law will not need you," she told him bitterly. "The law will do +nothing. The task is for other hands." + +After a pause he said, "I had news from home to-day,--rather bad news." +Then at her quick look of inquiry he went on: "Nothing serious, I hope, +nothing to take me away. My mother is ill and has cabled me to come." + +"Then you will go at once, of course?" + +"No. I've tried to explain to her the situation here, and the necessity +of my remaining for a time at least. Unless she grows worse I shall +stay and try to help Neri in his search." + +"It is a great comfort to have you near, for in you I see a part +of--Martel. You were his other half. But there are other aching hearts, +it seems. That mother calls to you, and you ought to go. Besides, I +must begin my work." + +"What work?" + +She met his eyes squarely. "You know without asking. Neri will fail; no +Italian could succeed; no one could succeed except a Sicilian. I am +one." + +"You mean to bring those men to justice?" + +She nodded. "Certainly! Who else can do it?" + +"But, my dear Signorina, think what that means. They are of a class +with which you can have no contact. They are the dregs; there is the +Mafia to reckon with. How will you go about it?" + +"I will become one of them, if necessary." + +He answered her in a shocked voice. "No, no! You are mad to think of +it. If you were a man you might have some chance for success, but +you--a girl, a gentlewoman!" + +"I am a Sicilian. I am rich, too. I have resources." She took him by +the arm as she had done that first time when the thought of Martel's +danger had roused her. "I told you no power could save them; no +hiding-place could be so secret, no lies so cunning that I would not +know. Well! Those soldiers have failed and will continue to fail. But +you see they did not love Martel. I shall live for this thing." + +"I won't allow you to dwell on the subject; it isn't natural, and it +isn't good for you. The desire to see justice done is commendable and +proper, but the desire for revenge isn't. You must not sacrifice your +life to it. There is a law of compensation; those men will be +apprehended." + +"Where is my compensation? What had Martel done to warrant this?" + +He fell silent, and she shook her head as if to indicate the +hopelessness of answering her. After a moment of meditation he began +again, gravely: + +"If you feel that way, I shall make you an offer. Give up your idea of +taking an active personal part in this quest, and I will assume your +place. We will work together, but you will direct while I face the +risks." + +"You are a stranger. We would be sure to fail. I thank you, but my mind +is made up." + +"If it becomes known, you will be in great danger. Think! Life is +before you, and all its possibilities. Please let other hands do this." + +"It is useless to argue," she said, firmly. "I am like rock. I have +begun already and I have accomplished more than Colonel Neri and his +carbineers. I see Aliandro coming now, and I think he has news. He +knows many things of which the soldiers do not dream, for he is one of +the people. You will excuse me?" + +"Of course, but--I can't let you undertake so dangerous a task without +a protest. I shall come back, if I may." + +He rose as the old man shuffled down the path, and went in search of +the Donna Teresa, for he was determined to offer every discouragement +in his power to what struck him as an extremely rash and perilous +course. Men like Belisario Cardi, or Narcone the Butcher, would +hesitate no more in attacking a woman than a man. He knew the whole +Sicilian country to be a web of intrigue and secret understandings, +sensitive to the slightest touch and possessed of many means of +communication. It was a great ear which heard the slightest stir, and +its unfailing efficiency was shown by the ease with which the bandits +had forestalled every effort of the authorities. + +In the hall of the manor house he encountered Lucrezia and stopped to +speak to her. + +"You would do a great deal to protect the Countess, would you not?" he +asked. + +"Yes, Signore. She has been both a sister and a mother to me. But what +do you mean?" + +Ferara's daughter was a robust girl of considerable physical charm, but +although her training at Terranova had done much for her, it was still +evident that she was a country woman. She had nursed her grief with all +the sullen fierceness of a peasant, and even now her face and eyes were +swollen from weeping. + +Blake explained briefly his concern, but when he had finished, the girl +surprised him by breaking forth into a furious denunciation of the +assassins. She surrendered to her passion with complete abandon, and +began to curse the names of Cardi and Gian Narcone horribly. + +"We demand blood to wash our blood," she cried. "I curse them and their +souls, living and dead, in the name of God who made my father, in the +name of Christ who died for him, in the name of the holy saints who +could not save him. In the name of the whole world I curse them. May +they pray and not be heard. May they repent unforgiven and lie +unburied. May every living thing that bears their names die in agony +before their eyes. May their women and unborn children be afflicted +with every unclean thing until they pray for death at my hands--" + +"Lucrezia!" He seized her roughly and clapped his hand over her mouth, +for her voice was rising steadily and threatened to rouse the whole +household. Her cheeks were white, she was shaking with long, tearless +sobs. She would have broken out again when he released her had he not +commanded her to be silent. He tried to explain that this work of +vengeance was not for her or for the Countess, and to point out the +ruin that was sure to follow any attempt on their part to take up the +work of the carabinieri, but she shook her head, declaring stubbornly: + +"We have sworn it." + +The more he argued the more obstinate she became, until, seeing the +ineffectiveness of his pleas, he gave up any further effort to move +her, sorry that he had raised such a storm. He went on in search of +Madam Fazello, with Lucrezia's parting words ringing ominously in his +ears: + +"If we die, we shall be buried; if we live, we shall give them to the +hangman." + +From Margherita's aunt he got but little comfort or hope of assistance. + +"Oh, my dear boy, I agree with your every word," the old lady said. +"But what can I do? I know better than you what it will lead to, but +Margherita is like iron--there is no reasoning with her. She would +sacrifice herself, Lucrezia, even me, to see Martel avenged, and if she +does not have her way she will burn herself to ashes. As for Lucrezia, +she is demented, and they do nothing all day but scheme and plan with +Aliandro, who is himself as bad as any bandit. I have no voice with +them; they do with me as they will." She hid her face in her trembling +fingers and wept softly. "And to think--we were all so happy with +Martel!" + +"Nevertheless, somebody must dissuade them from this enterprise. It is +no matter for two girls and an old man to undertake." + +"I pray hourly for guidance, but I am frightened, so frightened! When +Margherita talks to me, when I see her high resolve, I am ready to +follow; then when I am alone I become like water again." + +"What are her plans?" + +"I do not know. I have begged her to take her sorrow to God. The bishop +who came from Messina to marry Martel and remained to bury him has +joined me. There is a convent at Palermo--" + +"No, no!" Blake cried, vehemently. "Not that! That life is not for her. +She must do nothing at all until her grief has had time to moderate." + +"It will never be less. You do not know her. But you are the one to +reason with her." + +Realizing that the old lady was powerless, he returned to the garden +and tried once more to weaken the girl's resolution, but without +success. It was with a very troubled mind that he took the train back +to San Sebastiano that afternoon. + +The more he thought it over, the more certain he became that it was his +duty to remain in Sicily until Margherita had reached her right senses. +Martel had put a trust in him, and what could be more important than to +prevent her from carrying out this fantastic enterprise? He would take +up the search for the assassins in her place, allowing her to work +through him and in that way satisfying her determination. What she +needed above all things was distraction, occupation. If she remained +persistent they would work side by side until justice had been done, +and meanwhile he would become a part of her life. He might make himself +necessary to her. At least he would prevent her from doing anything +rash and perhaps fatal. In time he would prevail upon her to travel, to +seek recreation, and then her youth would be bound to tell. That would +be the work of a friend indeed, that would remove at least a part of +the obligation which rested upon him. Some day, he reasoned, the +Countess might even marry and be happy in spite of what had occurred. +As he contemplated the idea, it began to seem less improbable. What if +she should come to care for him? He would still be true to Martel, for +how could he protect her better than by making her his wife? His heart +leaped at the thought, but then his old self-disgust returned, +reminding him that he had yet to prove himself a man. + +As he stepped down from the train at San Sebastiano the station master +met him with a telegram. Even before he opened it he guessed its +contents, and his spirits sank. Was he never to escape these maddening +questions of duty--never to be free to pursue his heart's desire? + +It was a cablegram, and read: + +"Come quickly. + + "KENEAR." + +He regarded it gravely for a moment, striving to balance his duty to +Martel and the girl against his duty to his mother, but his hesitation +was brief. He stepped into the little telegraph office with the +mandarin-tree peering in at the open window and wrote his answer. He +did not try to deceive himself; the mere fact that Dr. Kenear had been +summoned from New Orleans showed as plainly as the message itself that +his mother's condition was more serious than he had supposed. She was +alone with many responsibilities upon her frail shoulders, and she was +calling for her son. There was but one thing to do. + +He stopped at the barracks to explain the necessity for his immediate +departure to Colonel Neri, who was most sympathetic. "You are not +needed here," the soldier assured him, "and you would have to go, even +though you were. You made your statement at the inquest; there is +nothing further for you to do until we accomplish the capture of +somebody. Even then I doubt if you could identify any one of those +bandits." + +"I think I should know Narcone anywhere." + +The Colonel shrugged. "Narcone has been swallowed by the earth. As for +Cardi and the rest, they have become thin smoke and the wind has +carried them away. We are precisely where we were at the start. Perhaps +it is fortunate for you that you have not been called upon to testify +against any of the band, for even the fact that you are a foreigner +might not save you from--unpleasant results." + +Norvin reasoned silently that if this were indeed true it more than +confirmed his fears for the Countess, and after a brief hesitation he +told the soldier what he had learned at his visit to Terranova. Neri +rose and paced the room in agitation. + +"Oh! She is mad indeed!" he exclaimed. "What can she do that we have +not already done? Aliandro? Bah! He is a doddering old reprobate who +will spread news instead of gather it. He has a bad record, and +although he loved Martel and doubtless loves Margherita, I have no +confidence in him whatever. She will accomplish nothing but her own +undoing." + +"I am afraid so, too. That is why I shall return to Sicily as soon as +possible." + +"Indeed? Then you plan to come back? Martel was fortunate to have so +good a friend as you, Signore. We must both do all we can to prevent +this folly on the part of his sweetheart. You may rest assured that I +shall make every effort in your absence." The Colonel extended his +hand, and Norvin took it, feeling some relief in the knowledge that +there was at least one man close to the girl upon whose caution he +could rely and upon whose good offices he could count. He had grown to +like the soldier during their brief acquaintance, and the fact that +Neri knew and appreciated the situation helped to reconcile him to the +thought of going away. + +He was not ready to leave Sicily, however, without one final appeal, +and accordingly he stopped at Terranova on the following morning on his +way to Messina, where a boat was sailing for Naples that night. But he +found no change in the Countess; on the contrary, she told him gently +but firmly that she had made up her mind once for all and that she +would resent any further efforts at dissuasion. + +"Won't you even wait until I return?" he inquired. + +She shook her head and smiled sadly. + +"Do not let us deceive ourselves, amico mio; you will not return." + +"On the contrary, I shall. You make it necessary for me to return +whether I wish to or not." + +"The ocean is wide, the world moves. You are a foreigner and you will +forget. It is only in Sicily that people remember." + +"Will you give me time to prove you wrong?" + +"I could not allow it. You have your own life to live; you have a +multitude of duties. Martel, you see, was only your friend. But with me +it is different. He was my lover; my life was a part of his and my duty +will not let me sleep." + +"You have no reason to say I will forget." + +"It is the way of the world. Then, too, there is the other woman. You +will see her. You will find a way, perhaps." + +But he replied, doggedly, "I shall return to Sicily." + +"When?" + +"I can't tell. A month from now--two months at the longest." + +"It would be very sweet to have you near," she said musingly, "for I am +lonely, very lonely, and with you I feel at rest, at peace in a way. +But something drives me, Signore, and I cannot promise. If you should +not forget, if you should wish to join hands with me, then I should +thank God and be very glad. But I sha'n't wish for it; that would be +unfair." + +His voice shook as he said, "I am going to prove to you that your life +is not hopelessly wrecked, and to show you that there is something +worth living for." + +She laid her two cool hands in his and looked deeply into his eyes, but +if she saw what lay in them she showed no altered feeling in her words +or tone. + +"Martel would be glad to have you near me, I am sure," she said, "but I +shall only pray for your safety and your happiness in that far-off +America. Good-by." + +He kissed her fingers, vowing silently to devote his whole life to her, +and finding it very hard to leave. + + + + +VII + +THE SEARCH BEGINS + + + +It was ten months later when Norvin Blake landed at Messina and took +the morning train westward to Terranova. As he disposed his +travelling-bags in a corner of the compartment, and settled himself for +the short journey, he felt a kind of irrational surprise at the fact +that there had been no changes during his absence. The city was just as +dirty and uninteresting as when he had left, the beggars were just as +ragged and importunate, the street coaches were just as rickety. It +required an effort to realize that ten months is, after all, a very +short time, for it seemed ten years since he had sailed away. It had +been a difficult period for him, one crowded with many changes, +readjustments, and responsibilities. He had gone far, he had done much, +he had been pressed by cares and anxieties on every side, and even at +the last he had willfully abandoned urgent duties, to his own great +loss and to the intense disgust of his friends, in order to come back +according to his promise. His return had been delayed from week to +week, from month to month, in spite of all he could do, and meanwhile +his thoughts had not been in America at all, but in Sicily, causing him +to fret and chafe at the necessities which bound him to his post. Now, +however, the day upon which he had counted had arrived; he had taken +his liberty regardless of consequences, and no dusty pilgrim ever +longed more fiercely for a journey's end. He was glad of the impression +of sameness he had received, for it made him feel that there would be +no great changes in Terranova. + +He had learned little from the Countess during the interim, for she had +been slow in answering his frequent letters, while her own had been +brief and non-commital. They contained hardly a suggestion of that +warmth and intimacy which he had known in her presence. Her last +letter, now quite old, had added to this impression of aloofness and +rendered him somewhat timid as the time for meeting her approached. He +re-read it for the hundredth time as the train crawled out of the city-- + +"MY DEAR FRIEND,--Your good letter was very welcome indeed, and I thank +you for your sympathetic interest in our affairs at Terranova, but +since fate has shown in so many ways that your life lies in Louisiana, +and not in Sicily, I beg of you to let things take their course and +give up any idea of returning here. There is nothing that you can do, +particularly since time has proved your fears for our safety to be +groundless. It is kind and chivalrous of you to persist in offering to +take that long journey from America, but nothing would be gained by it, +absolutely nothing, I assure you, and it would entail a sacrifice on +your part which I cannot permit. + +"Very little of interest or of encouragement had occurred here, but I +am working. I shall always work. Some day I shall succeed. Meanwhile we +talk of you and are heartened by your friendship, which seems very +close and real, despite the miles that separate us. We shall cherish it +and the memory of your loyalty to Martel. Meanwhile, you must not feel +bound by your promise to come back, which was not a promise, after all, +but merely an unselfish offer. Once again I repeat, it would do no +good, and might only disappoint you. Besides, I am hoping that you have +seen the woman of whom you told me and that she will need you. + + "We are all well. We have made no plans. + + "Yours gratefully, MARGHERITA GININI" + +It was certainly unsatisfying, but her letters had all been of this +somewhat formal nature. She persisted, too, in referring to that +imaginary woman, and Blake regretted ever having mentioned her. If +Margherita suspected the truth, she could not help feeling his lack of +delicacy, his disloyalty to Martel, in confessing his love while the +Count was still alive; if she really believed him to be in love with +some other woman, it would necessitate sooner or later an explanation +which he dreaded. At all events, he hoped that the surprise of seeing +him unexpectedly, the knowledge that he had really crossed the world to +help her, would tend to dissipate her melancholy and restore her old +responsiveness. + +During the months of his absence the girl had never been out of his +mind, and he had striven hard to reconcile his unconquerable love for +her with the sense of his own unworthiness. His unforgivable cowardice +was a haunting shame, and the more he dwelt upon it the more +unspeakably vile he appeared in his own sight; for the Blakes were +honorable people. The family was old and cherished traditions common to +fine Southern houses; the men of his name prided themselves upon an +especially nice sense of honor, which had been conspicuous even in a +country where bravery and chivalrous regard for women are basic ideals. +Having been reared in such an atmosphere, the young man looked upon his +own behavior with almost as much surprise as chagrin. He had always +taken it for granted that if he should be confronted with peril he +would behave himself like a man. It was inexplicable that he had failed +so miserably, for he had no reason to suspect a heritage of cowardice, +and he was sound in mind and body. He loved Margherita Ginini with all +his heart and his resolution to win her was stronger than ever, but he +felt that sooner or later he would have to prove himself as manly as +Martel had been, and, having lost faith in himself, the prospect +frightened him. If she ever discovered the truth--and such things are +very hard to conceal--she would spurn him: any self-respecting woman +would do the same. + +He had forced himself to an unflinching analysis of his case, with the +result that a fresh determination came to him. He resolved to +reconstruct his whole being. If he were indeed a physical coward he +would deliberately uproot the weakness and make himself into a man. +Others had accomplished more difficult tasks, he reasoned; thieves had +made themselves into honest men, criminals had become decent. Why, +then, could not a coward school himself to become brave? It was merely +a question of will power, not so hard, perhaps, as the cure of some +drug habit. He made up his mind to attack the problem coldly, +systematically, and he swore solemnly by all his love for Margherita +that he would make himself over into a person who could not only win +but hold her. As yet there had been no opportunity of putting the plan +into operation, but he had mapped out a course. + +Terranova drowsed among the hills just as he had left it, and high up +to the right, among the trees, he saw the white walls of the castello. +As he mounted the road briskly a goat-herd, flat upon his back in the +sun, was piping some haunting air; a tinkle of bells came from the +hillside, the vines were purple with fruit. Women were busy in the +vineyards gathering their burdens and bearing them to the tubs for the +white feet of the girls who trod the vintage. + +Nearing his goal, he saw that the house had an unoccupied air, and he +found the big gates closed. Since no one appeared in answer to his +summons, he made his way around to the rear, where he discovered +Aliandro sunning himself. + +"Well, Aliandro!" he cried. "This is good weather for rheumatism." + +The old man peered up at him uncertainly, muttering: + +"The saints in heaven are smiling to-day." + +"Where are the Contessa Margherita and her aunt?" + +"They are where their business takes them, I dare say. Ma che?" + +"Gone to Messina, perhaps?" + +"Perhaps." + +"Visiting friends?" + +"Exactly." Aliandro nodded. "They are visiting friends in Messina." + +"I wish I had known; I just came from there. Will they return soon?" +Blake's hopes had been so high, his disappointment was so keen, that he +failed to notice the old man's lack of greeting and his crafty leer as +he answered: + +"Si, veramente! Soon, very soon. Within a year--five years, at the +outside." + +"What?" + +"Oh, they will return so soon as it pleases them." He chuckled as if +delighted at his own secrecy. + +Norvin said sharply: "Come, come! Don't jest with me. I have traveled a +long way to see them. I wish to know their whereabouts." + +"Then ask some one who knows. If ever I was told, I have forgotten, +Si'or. My memory goes jumping about like a kid. It is the rheumatism." +After an instant more, he queried, "You are perhaps a friend of that +thrice-blessed angel, my padrona?" + +With an exclamation of relief Norvin laid a hand upon the old fellow's +shoulder and shook him gently. + +"Have your eyes failed you, my good Aliandro?" he cried. "Don't you +recognize the American?--the Signore Blake, who came here with the +Count of Martinello? Look at me and tell me where your mistress has +gone." + +Aliandro arose and peered into his visitor's face, wagging his loose +jaws excitedly. + +"As God is my judge," he declared, finally, "I believe it is, Che Dio! +Who would have expected to see you? Yes, yes! I remember as if it were +yesterday when you came riding up with that most illustrious gentleman +who now sits in Paradise. It is a miracle that you have crossed the +seas so many times in safety." + +"So! Now tell me what I want to know." + +"They have gone." + +"Where?" + +"How do I know? Find Belisario Cardi--may he live a million years in +hell! Find him, and you will find them also." + +"You mean--" + +"Find Belisario Cardi, that most infamous of assassins. My padrona has +set out to say good morning to him. He may even now be on his way to +purgatory." + +Blake stared at the speaker, for he could not credit the words. Once +more he asked: + +"But where? Where?" + +"Where, indeed? If I had known in time where this Cardi lived I would +have knocked at his door some evening with the hilt of a knife. But he +was never twice in the same place. He has the ears of a fox. So long as +the soldiers went tramping back and forth he laughed. Then he must have +heard something--perhaps it was Aliandro whetting his blade--at any +rate he was gone in an hour, in a moment, in a second. Now I know +nothing more." + +"She took the Donna Teresa with her?" + +"Yes, squealing like a cat. She is too old to be of use, but the +Contessa could not leave her behind, I suppose." + +Norvin felt some relief at this intelligence, reflecting that +Margherita would hardly draw her aunt into an enterprise which promised +to be dangerous. As he considered the matter further he began to doubt +the truth of Aliandro's story, for the old fellow seemed half daft. +Perhaps the Countess and her aunt were merely traveling and Aliandro +had construed their trip into a journey of vengeance. He had doubtless +spent all his time meditating upon the murder of his friend and +benefactor, and that was a subject which might easily unbalance a +stronger mind. Ten months had worked a change in Blake's viewpoint. +When he left Sicily the idea of a girl's devoting her life to the +pursuit of her lover's assassins had seemed to him extravagant, yet not +wholly unnatural. Now it struck him as beyond belief that Margherita +should really do this. Aliandro was continuing: + +"It is work for young hands, Excellency. Old people grow weary and +forget, especially women. Now that Lucrezia, she is a fine child; she +can hate like the devil himself and she is as silent as a Mafioso. It +was two months ago that they went away, and that angel of gold, that +sweetest of ladies whom the saints are quarreling over, she left me +sufficient money for the balance of my days. But I will tell you +something, Excellency--a scandal to make your blood boil. She left that +money with the notary. And now, what do you think? He gives me scarcely +enough for tobacco! Once a week, sometimes oftener, I go down to the +village and whine like a beggar for what is mine. A fine man to trust, +eh? May he lie unburied! Sometimes I think I shall have to kill him, he +is so hard-hearted, but--I cannot see well enough. If you should find +him kicking in the road, however, you will know that he brought it upon +himself. You are shocked? No wonder. He is a greater scoundrel than +that Judas. Perhaps you--you are a great friend of the family--perhaps +you might force the wolf to disgorge. Eh? What do you say? A word would +do it. You will save his life in all probability." + +"Very well, I'll speak to him, and meanwhile here is something to +please you." Norvin handed the old ruffian a gold coin, greatly to his +delight. "They have been gone two months and you have had no word?" + +"Not a whisper. Once a week the notary comes up from the village to see +that all is well with the house. Many people have asked me the same +questions you asked. Some of them know me, and I know some who think I +do not. They would like to trick me into betraying the whereabouts of +the Contessa, but I lie like a lawyer and tell them first one thing, +then another. Body of Christ! I am no fool." + +When Norvin had put himself in possession of all that Aliandro knew he +retraced his steps to the village, where the notary confirmed +practically all the old man had said, but declared positively that the +Countess and her admirable aunt were traveling for pleasure. + +"What else would take them abroad?" he inquired. "Nothing! I have the +honor to look after the castello during their absence and the rents +from the land are placed in the bank at Messina." + +"When do you expect them to return?" + +"Privately, Signore, I do not expect them to return at all. That +shocking tragedy preyed upon the poor child's mind until she could no +longer endure Terranova. She is highly sensitive, you know; everything +spoke of Martel Savigno. What more natural than for her to wish never +to see it again? She consulted me once regarding a sale of all the +lands, and only last week some men came with a letter from the bank at +Messina. They were Englishmen, I believe, or perhaps Germans--I can +never tell the difference, if indeed there is any. I showed them +through the house. It would be a great loss to the village, however, +yes, and to the whole countryside, if they purchased Terranova, for the +Countess was like a ray of sunshine, like an angel's smile. And so +generous!" + +"Tell me--Cardi was never found?" + +The notary shrugged his shoulders. "As for me, I have never believed +there was such a person. Gian Narcone, yes. We all knew him, but he has +not been heard from since that terrible night which we both remember. +Now this Cardi, well, he is imaginary. If he were flesh and blood the +carabinieri would certainly have caught him--there were enough of them. +Per Baccho! You never saw the like of it. They were thicker than flies." + +"And yet they didn't catch Narcone, and he's real enough." + +"True," acknowledged the notary, thoughtfully. "I never thought of it +in that light. Perhaps there is such a person, after all. But why has +no one ever seen him?" + +"Where is Colonel Neri?" + +"He is stationed at Messina. Perhaps he could tell you more than I." + +Dismayed, yet not entirely discouraged, by what he had learned, Blake +caught the first train back to Messina and that evening found him at +Neri's rooms. The Colonel was delighted to see him, but could tell him +little more than Aliandro or the notary. + +"Do you really believe the Countess left Sicily to travel?" Blake asked +him. + +"To you I will confess that I do not. We know better than that, you and +I. She was working constantly from the time you left for America until +her own departure, but I never knew what she discovered. That she +learned more than we did I am certain, and it is my opinion that she +found the trail of Cardi." + +"Then you're not like the others. You still believe there is such a +person?" + +"Whether he calls himself Cardi or something else makes no difference; +there has been an intelligence of a high order at work among the +Mafiosi and the banditti of this neighborhood for many years. We +learned things after you left; we were many times upon the verge of +important discoveries; but invariably we were thwarted at the last +moment by that Sicilian trait of secrecy and by some very potent +terror. We tried our best to get to the bottom of this fear I mention, +but we could not. It was more than the customary distrust and dislike +of the law; It was a lively personal dread of some man or body of men, +The fact that we have been working nearly a year now without result +would indicate that the person at the head of the organization is no +common fellow. No one dares betray him, even at the price of a fortune. +I believe him to be some man of affairs, some well-fed and respected +merchant, or banker, perhaps, the knowledge of whose identity would +cause a commotion such as Etna causes when she turns over in her sleep." + +"That was Ricardo's belief, you remember." + +"Yes. I have many reasons for thinking he was right, but I have no +proof. Cardi may still be in Sicily, although I doubt it. Gian Narcone +has fled; that much I know." + +"Indeed?" + +"Yes! The pursuit became hot; we did not rest! I do not see, even yet, +how we failed to capture him. We apprehended a number whom we know were +in the band, although we have no evidence connecting them with that +particular outrage. I think we will convict them for something or +other, however; at any rate, we have broken up this gang, even though +we have lost the two men we most desired. Narcone went to Naples. He +may be there now, he may be in any part of Italy, or he may even be in +your own America, for all I know. And this mysterious Cardi is probably +with him. It is my hope that we have frightened them off the island for +all time." + +"And sent them to my country! Thanks! We're having trouble enough with +our own Italians, as it is." + +"You at least have more room than we. But now, before we go further, +you must tell me about yourself, about your mother--" + +Norvin shook his head gravely. "I arrived in time to see her, to be +with her at the last, that is all." + +"I am indeed full of sympathy," said Neri. "It is no wonder you could +not return to Sicily as soon as you had planned." + +"Everything conspired to hold me back. There were many things that +needed attention, for her affairs had become badly mixed and required a +strong hand to straighten them out. Yet all the time I knew I was +needed here; I knew the Countess was in want of some one to lean upon. +I came at the first opportunity, but--it seems I am too late. I am +afraid, Neri--afraid for her. God knows what she may do." + +"God knows!" agreed the soldier. "I pleaded with her; I tried to argue." + +"But surely she can't absolutely disappear in this fashion. She will +have to make herself known sooner or later." + +"I'm not so certain. Her affairs are in good shape and Terranova is for +sale." + +"Doesn't the bank know her whereabouts?" + +"If so, she has instructed them to conceal it." + +"Nevertheless I shall go there in the morning and also to her cousins. +Will you help me?" + +"Of course!" Neri regarded the young man curiously for an instant, then +said, "You will pardon this question, I hope, but since she has taken +such pains to conceal herself, do you think it wise to--to--" + +"To force myself upon her? I don't know whether it is wise or foolish; +all I know is that I must find her. I must!" Blake met the older man's +eyes and his own were filled with a great trouble. "You told me once +that revenge and hatred are bad companions for a woman and that it +would be a great pity if Margherita Ginini did not allow herself to +love and be loved. I think you were right. I'm afraid to let her follow +this quest of hers; it may lead her into something--very bad, for she +has unlimited capabilities for good or evil. I had hoped to--to show +her that God had willed her to be happy. You see, Neri, I loved her +even when Martel was alive." + +The Colonel nodded. "I guessed as much. All men love her, and there +lies her danger. I love her, also, Signore. I have always loved her, +even though I am old enough to be her father, and I would give my life +to see her--well, to see her your wife. You understand me? I would help +you find her if I could, but I am a soldier. I am chained to my post. I +am poor." + +"Jove! You're mighty decent," said the American with an odd +breathlessness. "But do you think she could ever forget Martel?" + +"She is not yet twenty." + +"Do you think there is any possibility of my winning her? I thought so +once, but lately I have been terribly doubtful." + +"I should say it will depend largely upon your finding her. We are not +the only good men who will love her. They sailed from here to Naples on +the trail of Narcone; that much I believe is reasonably certain. I will +give you a letter to the police there, and they will help you. It is +possible that we excite ourselves unduly; perhaps you will have no +difficulty whatever in locating her, but in the mean time we will do +well to talk with her relatives and with the officials of the bank. I +look for little help from those quarters, however." + +Colonel Neri's misgivings were well founded, as the following day +proved. At the bank nothing definite was known as to the whereabouts of +the Countess. She had left instructions for the rents to be collected +until Terranova was sold and then for all moneys to be held until she +advised further. Her cousins were under the impression that she had +taken her aunt to northern Italy for a change of climate and believed +that she could be found in the mountains somewhere. Blake was not long +in discovering that while the relations between the two branches of the +family were maintained with an outward show of cordiality they were +really not of the closest. Neri told him, as a matter of fact, that +Margherita had always considered these people covetous and +untrustworthy. + +Having exhausted the clues at Messina, Norvin hastened to Naples and +there took up his inquiry. He presented his letter, but the police +could find no trace of the women and finally told him that they must +have passed through the city without stopping, perhaps on their way to +Rome. So to Rome he went, and there met a similar discouragement. By +now he was growing alarmed, for it seemed incredible that a woman so +conspicuous and so well known as the Countess of Terranova should be so +hard to find unless she had taken unusual pains to hide her identity. +If such were the case the search promised many difficulties. +Nevertheless, he set about it energetically, sparing no expense and yet +preserving a certain caution in order not to embarrass the Countess. He +reasoned that if Cardi and Narcone had fled their own island they would +be unlikely to seek an utterly foreign land, but would probably go +where their own tongue was spoken; hence the Countess was doubtless in +one of the Italian cities. When several weeks had been spent without +result the young man widened the scope of his efforts and appealed to +the police of all the principal cities of southern Europe. + +Two months had crept by before word came from Colonel Neri which put an +end to his futile campaign. The bank, it seemed, had received a letter +from the Countess written in New York. It was merely a request to +perform certain duties and contained no return address, but it sent +Norvin Blake homeward on the first ship. Now that he knew that the girl +was in his own country he felt his hopes revive. It seemed very +natural, after all, that she should be there instead of in Europe, for +Cardi and his lieutenant, having found Sicily too hot to hold them, had +doubtless joined the tide of Italian emigration to America, that land +of freedom and riches whither all the scum of Europe was floating. Why +should they turn to Italy, the mother country, when the criminals of +Europe were flocking across the westward ocean to a richer field which +offered little chance of identification? It seemed certain now that +Margherita had taken up the work in earnest; nothing less would have +drawn her to the United States. Blake gave up his last lingering doubt +regarding her intentions, but he vowed that if her resolve were firm, +his should be firmer; if her life held nothing but thoughts of Martel, +his held nothing but thoughts of her; if she were determined to hide +herself, he was equally determined to find her, and he would keep +searching until he had done so. The hunt began to obsess him; he obeyed +but one idea, beheld but one image; and he cherished the illusion that +once he had overtaken her his task would be completed. Only upon rare +occasions did he realize that the girl was still unwon--perhaps beyond +his power to win. He chose to trust his heart rather than his reason, +and in truth something deep within him gave assurance that she was +waiting, that she needed him and would welcome his coming. + + + + +VIII + +OLD TRAILS + + + +Mr. Bernard Dreux was regarded by his friends rather as an institution +than as an individual. He was a small man, but he wore the dignity of a +senator, and he possessed a pride of that intense and fastidious sort +which is rarely encountered outside the oldest Southern families. He +was thin, with the delicate, bird-like mannerisms of a dyspeptic, and +although he was nearing fifty he cultivated all the airs and graces of +beardless youth. His feet were small and highly arched, his hands were +sensitive and colorless. He was an authority on art, he dabbled in +music, and he had once been a lavish entertainer--that was in the early +days when he had been a social leader. Now, although harassed by a lack +of money which he considered degrading, he still mingled in good +society, he still dressed elegantly, his hands were still white and +sensitive, contrasting a little with his conscience, which had become +slightly discolored and calloused. He no longer entertained, however, +except by his wit; he exercised a watchful solicitude over his slender +wardrobe, and his revenues were derived from sources so uncertain that +he seemed to maintain his outwardly placid existence only through a +series of lucky chances. But adversity had not soured Mr. Dreux; it had +not dimmed his pride nor coarsened his appreciation of beauty; he +remained the gentle, suave, and agreeably cynical beau. Young girls had +been known to rave over him, despite their mother's frowns; fathers and +brothers called him Bernie and greeted him warmly--at their clubs. + +But aside from Mr. Dreux's inherited right to social recognition he was +marked by another and peculiar distinction in that he was the +half-brother and guardian of Myra Nell Warren. This fact alone would +have assured him a wide acquaintance and a degree of popularity without +regard to his personal characteristics. + +While it was generally known that old Captain Warren, during a short +and riotous life, had dashed through the Dreux fortune at a tremendous +rate, very few people realized what an utter financial wreck he had +left for the two children. There had been barely enough for them to +live upon after his death, and inasmuch as Myra Nell's extravagance +steadily increased as the income diminished, her half-brother was +always hard pressed to keep up appearances. She was a great +responsibility upon the little man's shoulders, particularly since she +managed in all innocence and thoughtlessness to spend not only her own +share of the income, but his also. He was many times upon the point of +remonstrating with her, but invariably his courage failed him and he +ended by planning some additional self-sacrifice to offset her +expanding necessities. + +The situation would have been far simpler had Bernie lacked that +particular inborn pride which forbade him to seek employment. Not that +he felt himself above work, but he recoiled from any occupation which +did not carry with it a dignity matching that of his name. Since the +name he bore was as highly honored as any in the State, and since his +capabilities for earning a living were not greater than those of an +eighteen-year-old boy, he was obliged to rely upon his wits. And his +wits had become uncommonly keen. + +The winter climate of New Orleans drew thither a stream of Northern +tourists, and upon these strangers Mr. Dreux, in a gentlemanly manner, +exercised his versatile talents. He made friends easily, he knew +everybody and everything, and, being a man of leisure, his time was at +the command of those travelers who were fortunate enough to meet him. +He understood the good points of each and every little cafe in the +foreign quarters; he could order a dinner with the rarest taste; it was +due largely to him that the fame of the Ramos gin-fizz and the Sazerac +cocktail became national. His grandfather, General Dreux, had drunk at +the old Absinthe House with no less a person that Lafitte, the pirate, +and had frequented the house on Royal Street when Lafayette and +Marechal Ney were there. It was in this house, indeed, that he had met +Louis Philippe. His grandson had such a wealth of intimate detail at +his finger tips that it was a great pleasure and privilege to go +through the French quarter with him. He exhaled the atmosphere of +Southern aristocracy which is so agreeable to Northern sensibilities, +he told inimitable stories, and, as for antiques, he knew every shop +and bargain in the city. He was liberal, moreover, nay, ingenuous in +sharing this knowledge with his new-found friends, even while admitting +that he coveted certain of these bargains for his own slender +collection. As a result of Mr. Dreux's knack of making friends and his +intimate knowledge of art he did a very good business in antiques. Many +of his acquaintances wrote him from time to time, asking him to execute +commissions, which he was ever willing to do, gratuitously, of course. +In this way he was able to bridge over the dull summer season and live +without any unpleasant sacrifice of dignity. But it was at best a +precarious means of livelihood and one which he privately detested. +However, on the particular day in the summer of 1890 on which we first +encounter him Mr. Dreux was well contented, for a lumber-man from +Minneapolis, who had come South with no appreciation whatever of +Colonial antiques, had just departed with enough worm-eaten furniture +to stock a museum, and Bernie had collected his regular commission from +the dealer. + +Now that his own pressing necessities were taken care of for the +moment, he began, as usual, to plan for Myra Nell's future. This would +have required little thought or worry had she been an ordinary girl, +but that was precisely what Miss Warren was not. The beaux of New +Orleans were enthusiastically united in declaring that she was quite +the contrary, quite the most extraordinary and dazzling of creatures. +Bernie had led them to the slaughter methodically, one after another, +with hope flaming in his breast, only to be disappointed time after +time. They had merely served to increase the unhappy number which +vainly swarmed about her, and to make Bernie himself the target of her +satire. Popularity had not spoiled the girl, however; her attitude +toward marriage was very sensible beneath the surface, and Bernie's +anxious efforts at matchmaking, instead of relieving their financial +distress, merely served to keep him in the antique business. Miss +Warren loved admiration; she might be said to live on it; and she +greeted every new admirer with a bubbling gladness which was +intoxicating. But she had no appreciation of the sanctity of a promise. +She looked upon an engagement to marry in the same light as an +engagement to walk or dine, namely, as being subject to the weather or +to a prior obligation of the same sort. Bernie was too much a gentleman +to urge her into any step for which she was not ready, so he merely +sighed when he saw his plans go astray, albeit confessing to moments of +dismay as he foresaw himself growing old in the second-hand business. +But a change had occurred lately, and although no word had passed +between brother and sister, the melancholy little bachelor had been +highly gratified at certain indications he had marked. It seemed to him +that her choice, provided she really had chosen, was excellent; for +Norvin Blake was certainly very young to be the president of the Cotton +Exchange, he was free from any social entanglements, and he was rich. +Moreover, his name had as many honorable associations as even Bernie's +own. All in all, therefore, the little man was in an agreeable frame of +mind to-day as he strolled up Canal Street, nodding here and there to +his acquaintances, and turned into Blake's office. + +He entered without announcing himself, and Norvin greeted him +cordially. Bernie seldom announced himself, being one of those rare +persons who come and go unobtrusively and who interrupt important +conversations without offense. + +"Do I find you busy?" he inquired, dropping into one of Blake's +easy-chairs and lighting a perfumed cigarette. + +"No. Business is over for the day. But I am glad to see you at any +time; you're so refreshingly restful." + +"How are the new duties and responsibilities coming on?" + +"Oh, very well," said Blake, "Although I'm absurdly self-conscious." + +"The Exchange needed new blood, I'm told. I think you are a happy +choice. Opportunity has singled you out and evidently intends to bear +you forward on her shoulders whether you wish or not. Jove! you _have_ +made strides! Let me see, you are thirty--" + +"Two! This makes me look older than I am." Norvin touched his hair, +which was gray, and Bernie nodded. + +"Funny how your hair changed so suddenly. I remember seeing you four +years ago at the Lexington races just after you returned from Europe +the second time. You were dark then. I saw you a year later and you +were gray. Did the wing of sorrow brush your brow?" + +Blake shrugged. "They say fear will turn men gray." + +Dreux laughed lightly. "Fancy! You afraid!" + +"And why not? Have you never been afraid?" + +"I? To be sure. I rather like it, too! It's invigorating--unusual. You +know there's a kind of fascination about certain emotions which are in +themselves unpleasant. But--my dear boy, you can't understand. We were +talking about you the other night at the Boston Club after your +election, and Thompson told about that affair you had with those +niggers up the State, when you were sheriff. It was quite thrilling to +hear him tell it." + +"Indeed?" + +"Oh, yes! He made you out a great hero. I never knew why you went in +for politics, or at least why, if you went in at all, you didn't try +for something worth while. You could have gone to the legislature just +as easily. But for a Blake to be sheriff! Well, it knocked us all silly +when we heard of it, and I don't understand it yet. We pictured you +locking up drunken men, serving subpoenas, and selling widows' farms +over their heads." + +"There's really more to a sheriff's duties than that." + +"So I judged from Thompson's blood-curdling tales. I felt very anaemic +and insignificant as I listened to him." + +"It doesn't hurt a gentleman to hold a minor political office, even in +a tough parish. I think men ought to try themselves out and find what +they are made of." + +"It isn't your lack of exclusiveness that strikes one; it's your nerve." + +"Oh, that's mostly imaginary. I haven't much, really. But the truth is +I'm interested in courage. They say a man always admires the quality in +which he is naturally lacking, and wants to acquire it. I'm interested +in brave men, too; they fascinate me. I've studied them; I've tried to +analyze courage and find out what it is, where it lies, how it is +developed, and all about it, because I have, perhaps, a rather foolish +craving to be able to call myself fairly brave." + +"If you hadn't made a reputation for yourself, this sort of modesty +would convict you of cowardice," Dreux exclaimed. "It sounds very +funny, coming from you, and I think you are posing. Now with me it is +wholly different. I couldn't stand what you have; why, the sight of a +dead man would unsettle me for months and, as for risking my life or +attempting the life of a fellow creature--well, it would be a physical +impossibility. I--I'd just turn tail. You are exceptional, though you +may not know it; you're not normal. The majority of us, away back in +the woodsheds of our minds, recognize ourselves as cowards, and I +differ from the rest in that I'm brave enough to admit it." + +"How do you know you are a coward?" + +"Oh, any little thing upsets me." + +"Your people were brave enough." + +"Of course, but conditions were different in those days; we're more +advanced now. There's nothing refined about swinging sabers around your +head like a windmill and chopping off Yankee arms and legs; nor is +there anything especially artistic in two gentlemen meeting at dawn +under the oaks with shotguns loaded with scrap iron." Mr. Dreux +shuddered. "I'm tremendously glad the war is over and duels are out of +fashion." + +"Well, be thankful that antiques are not out of fashion. There is still +a profit in them, I suppose?" + +Dreux shook his head mournfully. "Not in the good stuff. I just sold +the original sword of Jean Lafitte to a man who makes preserved +tomatoes. It is the eighth in three weeks. The business in Lafitte +sabers is very fair lately. General Jackson belt-buckles are moving +well, too, not to mention plug hats worn by Jefferson Davis at his +inauguration. There was a fabulous hardwood king at the St. Charles +whom I inflamed with the beauties of marquetrie du bois. It was all +modern, of course, made in Baltimore, but I found him a genuine +Sinurette four-poster which was very fine. I also discovered a royal +Sevres vase for him, worth a small fortune, but he preferred a bath +sponge used by Louis XIV. I assured him the sponge was genuine, so he +bought a Buhl cabinet to put it in. I took the vase for Myra Nell." + +"Do you think Myra Nell would care to be Queen of the Carnival?" Norvin +inquired. + +"Care?" Bernie started forward in his chair, his eyes opened wide. +"You're--joking! Is--is there any--" He relaxed suddenly, and after an +instant's hesitation inquired, "What do you mean?" + +"I mean what I say. She can be Queen if she wishes." + +Dreux shook his head reluctantly. "She'd be delighted, of course; she'd +go mad at the prospect, but--frankly, she can't afford it." He flushed +under Blake's gaze. + +"I'm sorry, Bernie. I've been told to ask her." + +"I am very much obliged to you for the honor, and it's worth any +sacrifice, but--Lord! It is disgusting to be poor." He prodded +viciously with his cane. + +"It is a great thing for any girl to be Queen. The chance may not come +again." + +Dreux made a creditable effort to conceal his disappointment, but he +was really beside himself with chagrin. "You needn't tell me," he said, +"but there is no use of my even dreaming of it; I've figured over the +expense too often. She was Queen of Momus last year--that's why I've +had to vouch for so many Lafitte swords and Davis high hats. If those +tourists ever compare notes they'll think that old pirate must have +been a centipede or a devilfish to wield all those weapons." + +"I would like to have her accept," Blake persisted. + +Bernie Dreux glanced at the speaker quickly, feeling a warm glow +suffuse his withered body at the hint of encouragement for his private +hopes. What more natural, he reasoned, than for Blake to wish his +future wife to accept the highest social honor that New Orleans can +confer? Norvin's next words offered further encouragement, yet awoke a +very conflicting emotion. + +"In view of the circumstances, and in view of all it means to Myra +Nell, I would consider it a privilege to lend you whatever you require. +She need never know." + +Involuntarily the little bachelor flushed and drew himself up. + +"Thanks! It's very considerate of you, but--I can't accept, really." + +"Even for her sake?" + +"If I didn't know you so well, or perhaps if you didn't know us so +well, I'd resent such a proposal." + +"Nonsense! Don't be foolish." Realizing thoroughly what this sacrifice +meant to Miss Warren's half-brother, Norvin continued: "Suppose we say +nothing further about it for the time being. Perhaps you will feel +differently later." + +After a pause Dreux said: "Heaven knows where these carnivals will end +if we continue giving bigger pageants every year. It's a frightful +drain on the antique business, and I'm afraid I will have to drop out +next season. I scarcely know what to do." + +"Why don't you marry?" Blake inquired. + +"Marry?" Dreux smiled whimsically. "That lumber king had a daughter, +but she was freckled." + +"Felicite Delord isn't freckled." + +Bernie said nothing for a moment, and then inquired quietly: + +"What do you know about Felicite?" + +"All there is to know, I believe. Enough, at any rate, to realize that +you ought to marry her." + +As Dreux made no answer, he inquired, "She is willing, of course?" + +"Of course." + +"Then why don't you do it?" + +"The very fact that people--well, that I know I ought to, perhaps. +Then, too, my situation. I have certain obligations which I must live +up to." + +"Don't be forever thinking of yourself. There are others to be +considered." + +"Exactly. Myra Nell, for instance." + +"It seems to me you owe something to Felicite." + +"My dear boy, you don't talk like a--like a--" + +"Southern gentleman?" Blake smiled. "Nevertheless, Miss Delord is a +delightful little person and you can make her happy. If Myra Nell +should be Queen of the Mardi Gras it would round out her social career. +She will marry before long, no doubt, and then you will be left with no +obligations beyond those you choose to assume. Nobody knows of your +relations with Felicite." + +"_You_ know," said the bachelor stiffly, "and therefore others must +know, hence it is quite impossible. I'd prefer not to discuss it if you +don't mind." + +"Certainly. I want you to keep that loan in mind, however. I think you +owe it to your sister to accept. At any rate, I am glad we had this +opportunity of speaking frankly." + +"Ah," said Bernie, suddenly, as if seizing with relief upon a chance to +end the discussion, "I think I heard some one in the outer office." + +"To be sure," exclaimed Blake. "That must be Donnelly. I had an +appointment with him here which I'd forgotten all about." + +"The Chief of Police? He's quite a friend of yours." + +"Yes, we met while I was sheriff. He's a remarkably able officer--one +of those men I like to study." + +"Well, then, I'll be going," said Bernie, rising. + +"No, stay and meet him." Blake rose to greet a tall, angular man of +about Dreux's age, who came in without knocking. Chief Donnelly had an +impassive face, into which was set a pair of those peculiar smoky-blue +eyes which have become familiar upon our frontiers. He acknowledged his +introduction to Bernie quietly, and measured the little man curiously. + +"Mr. Dreux is a friend of mine, and he was anxious to meet you, so I +asked him to stay," Norvin explained. + +"If I'm not intruding," Bernie said. + +"Oh, there's nothing much on my mind," the Chief declared. "I've come +in for some information which I don't believe Blake can give me." To +Norvin he said, "I remembered hearing that you'd been to Italy, so I +thought you might help me out." + +Mr. Dreux sat back, eliminated himself from the conversation in his own +effective manner, and regarded the officer as a mouse might gaze upon a +lion. + +"Yes, but that was four years ago," Norvin replied. + +"All the better. Were you ever in Sicily?" + +Blake started. The sudden mention of Sicily was like a touch upon an +exposed nerve. + +"I was in Sicily twice," he said, slowly. + +"Then perhaps you can help me, after all. I recalled some sort of +experience you had over there with the Mafia, and took a chance." + +The Chief drew from his pocket a note-book which he consulted. "Did you +ever hear of a Sicilian named--Narcone? Gian Narcone?" He looked up to +see that his friend's face had gone colorless. + +Blake nodded silently. + +"Also a chap named--some nobleman--" He turned again to his +memorandum-book. + +"Martel Savigno, Count of Martinello," Norvin supplied in a strained, +breathless voice. + +"That's him! Why, you must know all about this affair." + +Blake rose and began to pace his office while the others watched him +curiously, amazed at his agitated manner and his evident effort to +control his features. Neither of his two friends had deemed him capable +of such an exhibition of feeling. + +As a matter of fact, Norvin had grown to pride himself upon his +physical self-command and above all upon his impassivity of +countenance. He had cultivated it purposely, for it formed a part of +his later training--what he chose to call his course in courage. But +this sudden probing of an old wound, this unexpected reference to the +most painful part of his life, had found him off his guard and with his +nerves loose. + +After his return from Europe he had set himself vigorously to the task +of uprooting his cowardice. Realizing that his parish had always been +lawless, it occurred to him that the office of sheriff would compel an +exercise of whatever courage he had in him. It had been absurdly easy +to win the election, but afterward--the memory of the bitter fight +which followed often made him cringe. Strangely enough, his theory had +not worked out. He found that his cowardice was not a sick spot which +could be cauterized or cut out, but rather that it was like some humor +of the blood, or something ingrained in the very structure of his +nervous tissue. But although his lack of physical courage seemed +constitutional and incurable, he had a great and splendid pride which +enabled him to conceal his weakness from the world. Time and again he +had balked, had shied like a frightened horse; time and again he had +roweled himself with cruel spurs and ridden down his unruly terrors by +force of will. But the struggle had burned him out, had calcined his +youth, had grayed his hair, and left him old and tired. Even now, when +he had begun to consider his self-mastery complete, it had required no +more than the unexpected mention of Martel Savigno's name and that of +his murderer to awaken pangs of poignant distress, the signs of which +he could not altogether conceal. + +When after an interval of several minutes he felt that he had himself +sufficiently in hand to talk without danger of self-betrayal, he seated +himself and inquired: + +"What do you wish to know about--the Count of Martinello and Narcone +the bandit?" + +"I want to know all there is," said Donnelly. "Perhaps we can get at it +quicker if you will tell me what you know. I had no idea you were +familiar with the case. It's remarkable how these old trails recross." + +"I--I know everything about the murder of Martel Savigno, for I saw it. +I was there. He was my best friend. That is the story of which you +read. That is why the mention of his name upset me, even after nearly +five years." + +Bernie Dreux uttered an exclamation and hitched forward in his chair. +This new side of Blake's character fascinated him. + +"If you will tell me the circumstances it will help me piece out my +record," said the Chief, so Blake began reluctantly, hesitatingly, +giving the facts clearly, but with a constraint that bore witness to +his pain in the recital. + +When he had finished, it was Donnelly's turn to show surprise. + +"That is remarkable!" he exclaimed. "To think that you have seen Gian +Narcone! D'you suppose you would know him again after four years?" He +shot a keen glance at his friend. + +"I am quite sure I would. But come, you haven't told me anything yet." + +"Well, Narcone is in New Orleans." + +"What?" Blake leaned forward in his chair, his eyes blazing. + +"At least I'm informed that he is. I received a letter some time ago +containing most of the information you've just given me, and stating +that there are extradition papers for him in New York. The letter says +that some of his old gang have confessed to their part in the murder +and have implicated Narcone so strongly that he will hang if they can +get him back to Sicily." + +"I believe that. But who is your informant?" + +"I don't know. The letter is anonymous." + +A sudden wild hope sprang up in Blake's mind. He dared not trust it, +yet it clamored for credence. + +"Was it written by a--woman?" he queried, tensely. + +"No; at least I don't think so. It was written on one of these +new-fangled typewriting machines. I left it at the office, or you could +judge for yourself." + +"If it is typewritten, how do you know whether--" + +"I tell you I don't know. But I can guess pretty closely. It was one of +the Pallozzo gang. This Narcone--he calls himself Vito Sabella, by the +way--is a leader of the Quatrones. The two factions have been at war +lately and some member of the Pallozzo outfit has turned him up." + +The light died out of Norvin's face, his body relaxed. He had followed +so many clues, his quest had been so long and fruitless, that he met +disappointment half-way. + +Up to this moment Bernie Dreux had listened without a word or movement, +but now he stirred and inquired, hesitatingly: + +"Pardon me, but what is this Pallozzo gang and who are the Quatrones? +I'm tremendously interested in this affair." + +"The Pallozzos and the Quatrones," Donnelly explained, "are two Italian +gangs which have come into rivalry over the fruit business. They unload +the ships, you know, and they have clashed several times. You probably +heard about their last mix-up--one man killed and four wounded." + +"I never read about such things," Dreux acknowledged, at which the +Chief's eyes twinkled and once more wandered over the little man's +immaculate figure. + +"You are familiar with our Italian problem, aren't you?" + +"I--I'm afraid not. I know we have a large foreign population in the +city--in fact, I spend much of my time on the other side of Canal +Street--but I didn't know there was any particular problem." + +"Well, there is, and a very serious one, too," Blake assured him. "It's +giving our friend Donnelly and the rest of the city officials trouble +enough and to spare. There have been some eighty killings in the +Italian quarter." + +"Eighty-four," said Donnelly. "And about two hundred outrages of one +sort or another." + +"And almost no convictions. Am I right?" + +"You are. We can't do a thing with them. They are a law to themselves, +and they ignore us and ours absolutely. It's getting worse, too. Fine +situation to exist in the midst of a law-abiding American community, +isn't it?" Donnelly appealed to Dreux. + +"Now that will show you how little a person may know of his own home," +reflected Bernie. "Has it anything to do with this Mafia we hear so +much about?" + +"It has. But the Mafia is going to end," Donnelly announced positively. +"I've gone on record to that effect. If those dagos can't obey our +laws, they'll have to pull their freight. It's up to me to put a finish +to this state of affairs or acknowledge I'm a poor official and don't +know my business. The reform crowd has seized upon it as a weapon to +put me out of office, claiming that I've sold out to the Italians and +don't want to run 'em down, so I've got to do something to show I'm not +asleep on my beat. I've never had a chance before, but now I'm going +after this Vito Sabella and land him. Will you look him over, Norvin, +and see if he's the right party?" + +"Of course. I owe Narcone a visit and I'm glad of this chance. But +granting that he is Narcone, how can you get him out of New Orleans? +He'll fight extradition and the Quatrones will support him." + +"I'm blamed if I know. I'll have to figure that out," said the Chief as +he rose to go. "I'm mighty glad I had that hunch to come and see you, +and I wish you were a plain-clothes man instead of the president of the +Cotton Exchange. I think you and I could clean out this Mafia and make +the town fit for a white man to live in. If you'll drop in on me at +eight o'clock to-night we'll walk over toward St. Phillip Street and +perhaps get a look at your old friend Narcone. If you care to come +along, Mr. Dreux, I'd be glad to have you." + +Bernie Dreux threw up his shapely hands in hasty refusal. "Oh dear, +no!" he protested. "I haven't lost any Italian murderers. This +expedition, which you're planning so lightly, may lead to--Heaven knows +what. At any rate, I should only be in the way, so if it's quite the +same to you I'll send regrets." + +"Quite the same," Donnelly laughed, then to Norvin: "If you think this +dago may recognize you, you'd better tote a gun. At eight, then." + +"At eight," agreed Blake and escorted him to the door. + + + + +IX + +"ONE WHO KNOWS" + + + +Norvin Blake dined at his club that evening, returning to his office at +about half-past seven. He was relieved to find the place deserted, for +he desired an opportunity to think undisturbed. Although this +unforeseen twist of events had seemed remarkable, at first, he began to +feel that he had been unconsciously waiting for this very hour. +Something had always forewarned him that a time would come when he +would be forced to take a hand once more in that old affair. Nor was he +so much disturbed by the knowledge that Narcone, the butcher, was here +in New Orleans as by the memories and regrets which the news aroused. + +Entering his private office, he lit the gas, and flinging himself into +an easy-chair, gave himself over to recollections of all that the last +four years had brought forth. It seemed only yesterday that he had +returned from Italy, hot upon the scent which Colonel Neri had +uncovered for him. He had been confident, eager, hopeful, yet he had +failed, signally, unaccountably. He had combed New York City for a +trace of Margherita Ginini with a thoroughness that left no possible +means untried. As he looked back upon it now, he wondered if he could +ever summon sufficient enthusiasm to attack any other project with a +similar determination. He doubted it. Later experience had bred in him +a peculiar caution, a shrinking hesitancy at exposing his true +feelings, due, no doubt, to that ever-present necessity of watching +himself. + +Margherita had never written him after her first disappearance; his own +letters had been returned from Sicily; the police of New York had +failed as those of Rome and Naples and other cities had failed. He had +wasted a small fortune in the hire of private detectives. At last, when +it was too late to profit him, he had learned that the three women had +been in New York at the time of his arrival, but evidently they had +become alarmed at his pursuit and fled. It was this which had forced +him to give up--the certainty that Margherita knew the motive of his +search and resented it. He had never quite recovered from the sting of +that discovery, for he was proud, but he had grown too wise to cherish +unjust resentment. It merely struck him as a great pity that their +lives had fallen out in such unhappy fashion. He never tried to deceive +himself into believing that he could forget her, become a new man, and +banish the joy and the pain of his past, impartially. There were other +women, it is true, who attracted him strongly, aroused his tenderness +and appealed to his manhood--and among them Myra Nell Warren. His power +of feeling had not been atrophied, rather it had become deeper. Yet his +loyalty was never really impaired. In the bottom of his heart he knew +that that tawny, slumbrous yet passionate Sicilian girl was his first +and his most sacred love. + +As he sat alone now, with the evidences of his accomplishment about +him, he realized that in spite of his material success, life, so far, +at least, had been just as stale and flat as it had promised to be on +that night when he and Martel had ridden away from the feast at +Terranova. He had made good, to his own satisfaction, in all respects +save one, and even in that he had gained the form if not the substance, +for the world regarded him as a man of proven courage. It seemed to him +a grim and hideous joke, and he wondered what his friends would think +if they knew that the very commonplace adventure planned for this +evening filled him with a cringing horror. The prospect of this trip +into the Italian quarter with the probability of encountering Narcone +turned him cold and sick. His hands were like ice and the muscles of +his back were twitching nervously; he could feel his heart pound as he +let his thoughts have free play. But these symptoms were only too +familiar; he had conquered them too many times to think of weakening. + +After five years of intimate self-study he was still at a loss to +account for his phenomenal cowardice. He wondered again to-night if it +might not be the result of a too powerful imagination. Donnelly had no +imagination whatever, and the same seemed true of others whom he had +studied. As for himself, his fancies took alarm at the slightest hint +and went careering off into all the dark byways of supposition, +encountering impossible shapes and improbable dangers. Whatever the +cause, he had long since given up hope of ever winning a permanent +victory over himself and had learned that each trial meant a fresh +battle. + +When he saw by the clock that the hour of his appointment had come, he +arose, although his body seemed to belong to some one else and his +spirit was crying out a mad, panicky warning. He opened the drawer of +his desk and, extracting a revolver, raised it at arm's-length. He drew +it down before his eye until the sights crept into alignment, and held +it there for a throbbing second. Then he smiled mirthlessly, for his +hand had not shown the slightest tremor. + +Donnelly was waiting as Blake walked into headquarters, and, exhuming a +box of cigars from the remotest depths of a desk drawer, he offered +them, saying: + +"I've sent O'Connell over to reconnoiter. There's no use of our +starting out until he locates Sabella. You needn't be so suspicious of +those perfectos; they won't bite you." + +"The last one you gave me did precisely that." + +"Must have been one of my cooking cigars. I keep two kinds, one for +callers and one for friends." + +"Then if this is a Flor de Friendship I'll accept," Blake said with a +laugh. + +"I see Mr. Dreux didn't change his mind and decide to join us." + +"No, this is a little too rough for Bernie. He very cheerfully +acknowledged that he was afraid Narcone might recognize me and make +trouble." + +"I thought of that," Donnelly acknowledged. "Is there any chance?" + +In the depths of Blake's consciousness something cried out fearfully in +the affirmative, but he replied: "Hardly. He never saw me except +indistinctly, and that was nearly five years ago. He might recall my +name, but I dare say not without an introduction, which isn't +necessary." + +"Do you think you will know him?" + +"I-I have reason to think I will." + +The Chief grunted with satisfaction. + +"A funny little fellow, that Dreux!" he remarked. "Wasn't it his father +who fought a duel with Colonel Hammond from Baton Rouge?" + +"The same. They used shotguns at forty yards. Colonel Hammond was +killed." + +"Humph! And he was afraid to go with us to-night?" + +"Oh, he makes no secret of his cowardice." + +"Well, a mule is a mule, a coward is a coward, and a gambler is +a--son-of-a-gun," paraphrased the Chief. "If he hasn't any courage he +can't force it into himself." + +"Do you think so?" + +"I know so. I've seen it tried. Some people are born cowards and can't +help themselves. As for me, I was never troubled much that way. I +suppose you find it the same, too." + +"No. My only consolation lies in thinking it's barely possible the +other fellow may be as badly frightened as I am." + +Donnelly scoffed openly. "I never saw a man stand up better than you. +Why I've touted you as the gamest chap I ever saw. Do you remember that +dago Misetti who jumped from here into your parish when you were +sheriff?" + +Blake smiled. "I'm not likely to forget him." + +"You walked into a gun that day when you knew he'd use it." + +"He didn't, though--at least not much. Perhaps he was as badly rattled +as I was." + +"Have it your own way," the Chief said. "But that reminds me, he's out +again." + +"Indeed! I hadn't heard." + +"You knew, of course, we couldn't convict him for that killing. We had +a perfect case, but the Mafia cleared him. Same old story--perjury, +alibis, and jury-fixing. We put him away for resisting an officer, +though; they couldn't stop us there. But they've 'sprung' him and he's +back in town again. Damn such people! With over two hundred Italian +outrages of various kinds in this city up to date, I can count the +convictions on the fingers of one hand. The rest of the country is +beginning to notice it." + +"It is a serious matter," Blake acknowledged, "and it is affecting the +business interests of the city. We see that every day." + +"If I had a free hand I'd tin-can every dago in New Orleans." + +"Nonsense! They're not all bad. The great majority of them are good, +industrious, law-abiding people. It's a comparatively small criminal +element that does the mischief." + +"You think so, eh? Well, if you held down this job for a year you'd be +ready to swear they're all blackmailers and murderers. If they're so +honest and peaceable, why don't they come out and help us run down the +malefactors?" + +"That's not their way." + +"No, you bet it isn't," Donnelly affirmed. "Things are getting worse +every day. The reformers don't have to call my attention to it; I'm +wise. So far, they have confined their operations to their own people, +but what's to prevent them from spreading out? Some day those Italians +will break over and tackle us Americans, and then there will be hell to +pay. I'll be blamed for not holding them in check. Why, you've no idea +of the completeness of their organization; it has a thousand branches +and it takes in some of their very best people. I dare say you think +this Mafia is some dago secret society with lodge-rooms and grips and +passwords and a picnic once a year. Well, I tell you--" + +"You needn't tell me anything about La Mafia," Blake interrupted, +gravely. "I know as much about it, perhaps, as you do. Something ought +to be done to choke off this flood of European criminal immigration. +Believe me, I realize what you are up against, Dan, and I know, as you +know, that La Mafia will beat you." + +"I'm damned if it will!" exploded the officer. "The policing of this +city is under my charge, and if those people want to live here among +us--" + +The telephone bell rang and Donnelly broke off to answer it. + +"Hello! Is that you, O'Connell? Good! Stick around the neighborhood. +We'll be right over." He hung up the receiver and explained: "O'Connell +has him marked out. We'd better go." + +It was not until they were well on their way that Norvin thought to +mention the letter, which he had wished to see. + +"Oh, yes, I meant to show it to you," said Donnelly. + +"But there's nothing unusual about it, except perhaps the signature." + +"I thought you said it was anonymous." + +"Well, it is; it's merely signed 'One who Knows.'" + +"Does it mention an associate of Narcone--a man named Cardi?" + +"No. Who's he?" + +"I dare say at least a hundred thousand people have asked that same +question." Briefly Norvin told what he knew of the reputed chief of the +banditti, of the terrors his name inspired in Sicily, and of his +supposed connection with the murder of Savigno. "Once or twice a year I +hear from Colonel Neri," he added, "but he informs me that Cardi has +never returned to the island, so it occurred to me that he too might be +in New Orleans." + +"It's very likely that he is, and if he was a Capo-Mafia there, he's +probably the same here. Lord! I'd like to get inside of that outfit; +I'd go through it like a sandstorm." + +By this time they had threaded the narrow thoroughfares of the old +quarter, and were nearing the vicinity of St. Phillip Street, the heart +of what Donnelly called "Dagotown." There was little to distinguish +this part of the city from that through which they had come. There were +the same dingy, wrinkled houses, with their odd little balconies and +ornamental iron galleries overhanging the sidewalks and peering into +one another's faces as if to see what their neighbors were up to; the +same queer, musty, dusty shops, dozing amid violent foreign odors; the +same open doorways and tunnel-like entrances leading to paved +courtyards at the rear. The steep roofs were tiled and moss-grown, the +pavements were of huge stone flags, set in between seams of mud, and so +unevenly placed as to make traffic impossible save by the light of day. +Alongside the walks were open sewers, in which the foul and sluggish +current was setting not toward, but away from, the river-front. The +district was peopled by shadows and mystery; it abounded in strange +sights and sounds and smells. + +At the corner of Royal and Dumaine they found O'Connell loitering in a +doorway, and with a word he directed them to a small cafe and wine-shop +in the next block. + +A moment later they pushed through swinging doors and entered. Donnelly +nodded to the white-haired Italian behind the bar and led the way back +to a vacant table against the wall, where he and Norvin seated +themselves. There were perhaps a half-dozen similar tables in the room, +at some of which men were eating. But it was late for supper, and for +the most part the occupants were either drinking or playing cards. + +There was a momentary pause in the babble of conversation as the two +stalked boldly in, and a score of suspicious glances were leveled at +them, for the Chief was well known in the Italian quarter. The +proprietor came bustling toward the new-comers with an obsequious smile +upon his grizzled features. Taking the end of his apron he wiped the +surface of their table dry, at the same time informing Donnelly in +broken English that he was honored by the privilege of serving him. + +Donnelly ordered a bottle of wine, then drew an envelope from his +pocket and began making figures upon it, leaning forward and addressing +his companion confidentially, to the complete disregard of his +surroundings. Norvin glued his eyes upon the paper, nodding now and +then as if in agreement. Although he had taken but one hasty glance +around the cafe upon entering, he had seen a certain heavy-muscled +Sicilian whose face was only too familiar. It was Narcone, without a +doubt. Blake had seen that brutal, lust-coarsened countenance too many +times in his dreams to be mistaken, and while his one and only glimpse +had been secured in a half-light, his mind at that instant had been so +unnaturally sensitized that the photograph remained clear and unfading. + +He could feel Narcone staring at him now, as he sat nodding to the +senseless patter of the Chief in a sort of breathless, terrifying +suspense. Would his own face recall to the fellow's mind that night in +the forest of Terranova and set his fears aflame? Blake's reason told +him that such a thing was beyond the faintest probability, yet the +flesh upon his back was crawling as if in anticipation of a +knife-thrust. Nevertheless, he lit a cigar and held the match between +fingers which did not tremble. He was fighting his usual, senseless +battle, and he was winning. When the proprietor set the bottle in front +of him he filled both glasses with a firm hand and then, still +listening to Donnelly's words, he settled back in his chair and let his +eyes rove casually over the room. He encountered Narcone's evil gaze +when the glass was half-way to his lips and returned it boldly for an +instant. It filled him with an odd satisfaction to note that not a +ripple disturbed the red surface of the wine. + +"Have you 'made' him?" Donnelly inquired under his breath. + +Blake nodded: "The tall fellow at the third table." + +"That's him, all right," agreed the Chief. "He doesn't remember you." + +"I didn't expect him to; I've changed considerably, and besides he +never saw me distinctly, as I told you before." + +"You've got the policeman's eye," declared Donnelly with enthusiasm. "I +wanted you to pick him out by yourself. We'll go, now, as soon as we +lap up this dago vinegar." + +Out in the street again, Blake heaved a sigh of relief, for even this +little harmless adventure had been a trial to his unruly nerves. + +"We'll drift past the Red Wing Club; it's a hang-out of mine and I want +to talk further with you," said Donnelly. + +They turned back towards the heart of the city, stopping a moment while +the Chief directed O'Connell to keep a close watch upon Narcone. + +The Red Wing Club was not really a club at all, but a small restaurant +which had become known for certain of its culinary specialties and had +gathered to itself a somewhat select clientele of bons vivants, who +dined there after the leisurely continental fashion. Thither the two +men betook themselves. + +"I can't see what real good those extradition papers are going to do +you, even now that you're sure of your man," said Norvin as soon as +they were seated. "It won't be difficult to arrest him, but to +extradite him will prove quite another matter. I'm not eager myself to +take the stand against him, for obvious reasons." Donnelly nodded his +appreciation. "I will do so, if necessary, of course, but my evidence +won't counterbalance all the testimony Sabella will be able to bring. +We know he's the man; his friends know it, but they'll unite to swear +he is really Vito Sabella, a gentle, sweet soul whom they knew in +Sicily, and they'll prove he was here in America at the time Martel +Savigno was murdered. If we had him in New York, away from his friends, +it would be different; he'd go back to Sicily, and once there he'd +hang, as he deserves." + +Donnelly swore under his breath. "It's the thing I run foul of every +time I try to enforce the law against these people. But just the same +I'm going to get this fellow, somehow, for he's one of the gang that +fired into the Pallozzos and killed Tony Alto. That's another thing I +know but can't prove. What made you ask if that letter was written by a +woman? Has Sabella a sweetheart?" + +"Not to my knowledge. I--" Norvin hesitated. "No, Sabella has no +sweetheart, but Savigno had. I haven't told you much of that part of my +story. It's no use my trying to give you an idea of what kind of woman +the Countess of Terranova was, or is--you wouldn't understand. It's +enough to say that she is a woman of extraordinary character, wholly +devoted to Martel's memory, and Sicilian to the backbone. After her +lover's death, when the police had failed, she swore to be avenged upon +his murderers. I know it sounds strange, but it didn't seem so strange +to me then. I tried to reason with her, but it was a waste of breath. +When I returned to Sicily after my mother died, Margherita--the +Countess--had disappeared. I tried every means to find her--you know, +Martel left her, in a way, under my care--but I couldn't locate her in +any Italian city. Then I learned that she had come to the United States +and took up the search on this side. It's a long story; the gist of it +is simply that I looked up every possibility, and finally gave up in +despair. That was more than four years ago. I have no idea that all +this has any connection with our present problem." + +Donnelly listened with interest, and for a time plied Blake with shrewd +questions, but at length the subject seemed to lose its importance in +his mind. + +"It's a queer coincidence," he said. "But the letter was mailed in this +city and by some one familiar with Narcone's movements up to date. If +your Countess was here you'd surely know it. This isn't New York. +Besides, women don't make good detectives; they get discouraged. I dare +say she went back to Italy long ago and is married now, with a dozen or +more little counts and countesses around her." + +"I agree with you," said Blake, "that she can't be the 'One Who Knows.' +There are too many easier explanations, and I couldn't hope--" He +checked himself. "Well, I guess I've told you about all I know. Call on +me at any time that I can be of assistance." + +He left rather abruptly, struggling with a sense of self-disgust in +that he had been led to talk of Margherita unnecessarily, yet with a +curious undercurrent of excitement running through his mood. + + + + +X + +MYRA NELL WARREN + + + +Miss Myra Nell Warren seldom commenced her toilet with that feeling of +pleasurable anticipation common to most girls of her age. Not that she +failed to appreciate her own good looks, for she did not, but because +in order to attain the desired effects she was forced to exercise a +nice discrimination which can be appreciated only by those who have +attempted to keep up appearances upon an income never equal to one's +requirements. She had many dresses, to be sure, but they were as +familiar to her as family portraits, and even among her most blinded +admirers they had been known to stir the chords of remembrance. Then, +too, they were always getting lost, for Myra Nell had a way of +scattering other things than her affections. She had often likened her +dresses to an army of Central American troops, for mere ragged +abundance in which there lay no real fighting strength. Having been +molded to fit the existing fashions in ladies' clothes, and bred to a +careless extravagance, poverty brought the girl many complexities and +worries. + +To-night, however, she was in a very happy frame of mind as she began +dressing, and Bernie, hearing her singing blithely, paused outside her +door to inquire the cause. + +"Can't you guess, stupid?" she replied. + +"Um-m! I didn't know he was coming." + +"Well, he is. And, Bernie--have you seen my white satin slippers?" + +"How in the world should I see them?" + +"It isn't them, it is just him. I've discovered one under the bed, but +the other has disappeared, gone, skedaddled. Do rummage around and find +it for me, won't you? I think it's down-stairs--" + +"My dear child," her brother began in mild exasperation, "how can it be +down-stairs--" + +The door of Myra Nell's room burst open suddenly, and a very animated +face peered around the edge at him. + +"Because I left it there, purposely. I kicked it off--it hurt. At least +I think I did, although I'm not sure. I kicked it off somewhere." + +Miss Warren's words had a way of rushing forth head over heels, in a +glad, frolicky manner which was most delightful, although somewhat +damaging to grammar. But she was too enthusiastic to waste time on +grammar; life forever pressed her too closely to allow repose of +thought, of action, or of speech. + +"Now, don't get huffy, honey," she ran on. "If you only knew how I've-- +Oh, goody! you're going out!" + +"I was going out, but of course--" + +"Now don't be silly. He isn't coming to see you." + +Bernie exclaimed in a shocked voice: + +"Myra Nell! You know I never leave you to entertain your callers alone. +It isn't proper." + +She sighed. "It isn't proper to entertain them on one foot, like a +stork, either. Do be a dear, now, and find my slipper. I've worn myself +to the bone, I positively have, hunting for it, and I'm in tears." + +"Very well," he said. "I'll look, but why don't you take care of your +things? The idea--" + +She pouted a pair of red lips at him, slammed the door in his face, and +began singing joyously once more. + +"What dress are you going to wear?" he called to her. + +"That white one with all the chiffon missing." + +"What has become of the chiffon?" he demanded, sternly. + +"I must have stepped on it at the dance. I--in fact, I know I did." + +"Of course you saved it?" + +"Oh, yes. But I can't find it now. If you could only--" + +"No!" he cried, firmly, and dashed down the stairs two steps at a time. +From the lower hall he called up to her, "Wear the new one, and be sure +to let me see you before he comes." + +Bernie sighed as he hung up his hat, for he had looked forward through +a dull, disappointing day to an evening with Felicite Delord. She was +expecting him--she would be greatly disappointed. He sighed a second +time, for he was far from happy. Life seemed to be one long constant +worry over money matters and Myra Nell. Being a prim, orderly man, he +intensely disliked searching for mislaid articles, but he began a +systematic hunt; for, knowing Myra Nell's peculiar irresponsibility, he +was prepared to find the missing slipper anywhere between the hammock +on the front gallery and the kitchen in the rear. However, a full +half-hour's search failed to discover it. He had been under most of the +furniture and was both hot and dusty when she came bouncing in upon +him. Miss Warren never walked nor glided nor swayed sinuously as +languorous Southern society belles are supposed to do; she romped and +bounced, and she was chattering amiably at this moment. + +"Here I am, Bunny, decked out like an empress. The new dress is a duck +and I'm ravishing--perfectly ravishing. Eh? What?" + +He wriggled out from beneath the horsehair sofa, rose, and, wiping the +perspiration from his brow, pointed with a trembling finger at her feet. + +"There! There it is," he said in a terrible tone. "That's it on your +foot." + +"Oh, yes. I found it right after you came downstairs." She burst out +laughing at his disheveled appearance. "I forgot you were looking. But +come, admire me!" She revolved before his eyes, and he smiled +delightedly. + +In truth, Miss Warren presented a picture to bring admiration into any +eye, and although she was entirely lacking in poise and dignity, her +constant restless vivacity and the witch-like spirit of laughter that +possessed her were quite as engaging. She was a madcap, fly-away +creature whose ravishing lace was framed by an unruly mop of dark hair, +which no amount of attention could hold in place. Little dancing curls +and wisps and ringlets were forever escaping in coquettish fashion: + +Bernie regarded her critically from head to foot, absent-mindedly +brushing from his own immaculate person the dust which bore witness to +his sister's housekeeping. In his eyes this girl was more than a queen, +she was a sort of deity, and she could do no wrong. He was by no means +an admirable man himself, but he saw in her all the virtues which he +lacked, and his simple devotion was touching. + +"You didn't comb your hair," he said, severely. + +"Oh, I did! I combed it like mad, but the hairpins pop right out," she +exclaimed. "Anyway, there weren't enough." + +"Well, I found some on the piano," he said, "so I'll fix you." + +With deft fingers he secured the stray locks which were escaping, +working as skilfully as a hair-dresser. + +"Oh, but you're a nuisance," she told him, as she accepted his aid with +the fidgety impatience of a restless boy. "They'll pop right out again." + +"They wouldn't if you didn't jerk and flirt around--" + +"Flirt, indeed! Bunny! Bunny! What an idea!" She kissed him with a +resounding smack, squarely upon the end of his thin nose, then flounced +over to the old-fashioned haircloth sofa. + +Now, Mr. Dreux abhorred the name of Bunny, and above all things he +abominated Myra Nell's method of saluting him upon the nose, but she +only laughed at his exclamation of disgust, saying: + +"Well, well! You haven't told me how nice I look." + +"There is no possible hope for him," he acknowledged. "The gown fits +very nicely, too." + +"Chloe did it--she cut it off, and sewed on the doodads--" + +"The what?" + +"The ruffly things." Myra Nell sighed. "It's hard to make a dressmaker +out of a cook. Her soul never rises above fried chicken and light +bread, but she did pretty well this time, almost as well as--Do you +know, Bunny, you'd have made a dandy dressmaker." + +"My dear child," he said in scandalized tones, "you get more slangy +every day. It's not ladylike." + +"I know, but it gets you there quicker. Lordy! I hope he doesn't keep +me waiting until I get all wrinkled up. Why don't you go out and have a +good time? I'll entertain him." + +"You know I wouldn't leave you alone." + +She made a little laughing grimace at him and said: + +"Well, then, if you must stay, I'll keep him out on the gallery all to +myself. It's a lovely night, and, besides, the drawing-room is getting +to smell musty. Mind you, don't get into any mischief." + +She bounced up from the sofa and gave his ear a playful tweak with her +pink fingers, then danced out into the drawing-room, where she rattled +off a part of a piano selection at breakneck speed, ending in the +middle with a crash, and finally flung open the long French blinds. The +next instant he heard her swinging furiously in the hammock. + +Bernie smiled fondly, as a mother smiles, and his pinched little face +was glorified, then he sighed for a third time, as he thought of +Felicite Delord, and regretfully settled himself down to a dull and +solitary evening. The library had long since been denuded of its +valuable books, in the same way that the old frame mansion had lost its +finer furniture, piece by piece, as some whim of its mistress made a +sacrifice necessary. In consequence, about all that remained now to +afford Bernie amusement were certain works on art which had no market +value. Selecting one of these, he lit a cigarette and lost himself +among the old masters. + +When Norvin Blake came up the walk beneath the live-oak and magnolia +trees, Myra Nell met him at the top of the steps, and her cool, fresh +loveliness struck him as something extremely pleasant to look upon, +after his heated, bustling day on the Exchange. + +"Bernie's in the library feasting on Spanish masters, so if you don't +mind we'll sit out here," she told him. + +"I'll be delighted," he assured her. "In that way I may be seen and so +excite the jealousy of certain fellows who have been monopolizing you +lately." + +"A little jealousy is a good thing, so I'll help you. But--they don't +have it in them. They're as calm and placid as bayou water." + +Blake was fond of mildly teasing the girl about her popularity, +assuming, as an old friend, a whimsically injured tone. She could never +be sure how much or little his speeches meant, but, being an outrageous +little coquette herself, she seldom put much confidence in any one's +words. + +"Tell me," he went on--"I haven't seen you for a week--who are you +engaged to now?" + +"The idea! I'm never really engaged; that is, hardly ever." + +"Then there is a terrible misapprehension at large!" + +"Oh, I'm always misapprehended. Even Bernie misapprehends me; he thinks +I'm frivolous and light-minded, but I'm not. I'm really very serious; +I'm--I'm almost morose." + +He laughed at her. "You don't mean to deny you have a bewildering train +of admirers?" + +"Perhaps, but I don't like to think of them. You see, it takes years to +collect a real train of admirers, and it argues that a girl is a +fixture. That's something I won't be. I'm beginning to feel like one of +the sights of the city, such as Bernie points out to his Northern +tourists. Of course, you're the exception. I don't think we've ever +been engaged, have we?" + +"Um-m! I believe not, I don't care to be considered eccentric, however. +It isn't too late." + +"Bernie wouldn't allow it for a moment, and, besides, you're too +serious. A girl should never engage herself to a serious-minded man +unless she's really ready to--marry him." + +"How true!" + +"By the way," she chattered on, "what in the world have you done to +Bernie? He has talked nothing but Mafia and murders and vendettas ever +since he saw you the other day." + +"He told you about meeting Donnelly in my office?" + +"Yes! He's become tremendously interested in the Italian question all +at once; he reads all the papers and he haunts the foreign quarter. He +tells me we have a fearful condition of affairs here. Of course I don't +know what he's talking about, but he's very much in earnest, and wants +to help Mr. Donnelly do something or other--kill somebody, I judge." + +"Really! I didn't suppose he cared for such things." + +"Neither did I. But your story worked him all up. Of course, I read +about _you_ long ago, and that's how I knew you were a hero. When you +returned from abroad I was simply smothered with excitement until I met +you. The _idea_ of your fighting with bandits, and all that! But tell +me, did you discover that murderer creature?" + +"Yes. We identified him." + +"Oh-h!" The girl fairly wriggled with eagerness, and he had to smile at +her as she leaned forward waiting for details. "Bernie said you asked +him to go, but he was afraid. I--I wish you'd take me the next time. +Fancy! What did he do? Was he a tall, dangerous-looking man? Did he +grind his teeth at you?" + +"No, no!" Norvin briefly explained the very ordinary happenings of his +trip with the Chief of Police, to which she listened with her usual +intensity of interest in the subject of the moment. + +"You won't have to testify against him in those what-do-you-call-'em +proceedings?" she asked as soon as he had finished. + +"Extradition?" + +"Why! Why, they'll blow you up, or do something dreadful!" + +"I suppose I'll have to. Donnelly is bent on arresting him, and I owe +something to the memory of Mattel Savigno." + +"You mustn't!" she exclaimed with a gravity quite surprising in her. +"When Bernie told me what it might lead to, it frightened me nearly to +death. He says this Mafia is a perfectly awful affair. You won't get +mixed up in it, will you? Please!" + +The girl who was speaking now was not the Myra Nell he knew; her tone +of real concern struck him very agreeably. Beneath her customary mood +of intoxication with the joy of living he had occasionally caught +fleeting glimpses of a really unusual depth of feeling, and the thought +that she was concerned for his welfare filled him with a selfish +gladness. Nevertheless, he answered her, truly: + +"I can't promise that. I rather feel that I owe it to Martel" + +"He's dead! That sounds brutal, but--" + +"I owe something also to--those he left behind." + +"You mean that Sicilian woman--that Countess. I suppose you know I'm +horribly jealous of her?" + +"I didn't know it." + +"I am. Just think of it--a real Countess, with a castle, and +dozens--thousands of gorgeous dresses! Was she--beautiful?" + +"Very!" + +"_Don't_ say it that way. Goodness! How I hate her!" + +Miss Warren flounced back into the corner of the hammock, and Norvin +said with a laugh: + +"No wonder you have a train of suitors." + +"I've never seen a really beautiful Italian woman--except Vittoria +Fabrizi, of course." + +"Your friend, the nurse?" + +"Yes, and she's not really Italian, she's just like anybody else. She +was here to see me again this afternoon, by the way; it's her day off +at the hospital, you know. I want you to meet her. You'll fall +desperately in love." + +"Really, I'm not interested in trained nurses, and I wouldn't want you +to hate her as you hate the Countess." + +"Oh, I couldn't hate Vittoria, she's such a dear. She saved my life, +you know." + +"Nonsense! You only had a sprained ankle." + +"Yes, but it was a perfectly odious sprain. Nobody knows how I +suffered. And to think it was all Bernie's fault!" + +"How so? You fell off a horse." + +"I did not," indignantly declared Miss Warren. "I was thrown, hurled, +flung, violently projected, and then I was frightfully trampled by a +snorting steed." + +Norvin laughed heartily at this, for he knew the rickety old family +horse very well by sight, and the picture she conjured up was amusing. + +"How do you manage to blame it on Bernie?" he inquired. + +"Well, he forbade me to ride horseback, so of course I had to do it." + +"Oh, I see." + +"I fixed up a perfectly ravishing habit. I couldn't ask Bernie to buy +me one, since he refused to let me ride, so I made a skirt out of our +grand-piano cover--it was miles long, and a darling shade of green. +When it came to a hat I was stumped until I thought of Bernie's silk +one. No mother ever loved a child as he loved that hat, you know. I +twisted his evening scarf around it, and the effect was really +stunning--it floated beautifully. Babylon and I formed a picture, I can +tell you. I call the horse Babylon because he's such an old ruin. But I +don't believe any one ever rode him before; he didn't seem to know what +it was all about. He was very bony, too, and he stuck out in places. I +suppose we would have gotten along all right if I hadn't tried to make +him prance. He wouldn't do it, so I jabbed him." + +"Jabbed him?" + +Myra Nell nodded vigorously. "With my hat-pin. I didn't mean to hurt +him, but--oh my! He isn't nearly so old as we think. I suppose the +surprise did it. Anyhow, he became a raging demon in a second, and when +they picked me up I had a sprained ankle and the piano cover was a +sight." + +"I suppose Babylon ran away?" + +"No, he was standing there, with one foot right through Bernie's high +hat. That was the terrible part of it all--I had to pretend I was +nearly killed, just to take Bernie's mind off the hat. I stayed in bed +for the longest time--I was afraid to get up--and he got Vittoria +Fabrizi to wait on me. So that's how I met her. You can't linger along +with your life in a person's hands for weeks at a time without getting +attached to her. I was sorry for Babylon, so I had Chloe put a poultice +on his back where I jabbed him. Now I'd like to know if that isn't +Bernie's fault. He should have allowed me to ride and then I wouldn't +have wanted to. Poor boy! he was the one to suffer after all. He'd +planned to take a trip somewhere, but of course he couldn't do that and +pay for a trained nurse, too." + +Myra Nell's allusion to her brother's financial condition reminded +Blake of the subject which had been uppermost in his mind all evening, +and he decided to broach it now. Subsequent to his last talk with Dreux +he had thought a good deal about that proffered loan and had come to +regard Bernie's refusal as unwarranted. To be Queen of the Carnival was +an honor given to but few young women, and one that would probably +never come to Miss Warren again, so even at the risk of offending her +half-brother he had decided to lay the matter before Myra Nell herself. +She ought at least to have in later years the consoling thought that +she had once refused the royal scepter. He hoped, however, that her +persuasion added to his own would bring Dreux to a change of heart. + +"If you'll promise to make no scene, refrain from hysterics, and all +that," he began, warningly, "I'll tell you some good news." + +"How silly! I'm an iceberg! I never get excited!" she declared. + +"Well then, how would you like to be Queen of the next Mardi Gras?" + +Myra Nell gasped faintly in the darkness, and sat bolt-upright. + +"You--you're joking." + +"That's no answer." + +"I--I--Do you mean it? Oh!" She was out of the hammock now and poised +tremblingly before him, like a bird. "Honestly? You're not fooling? +Norvin, you dear duck!" She clapped her hands together gleefully and +began to dance up and down. "I-I'm going to scream." + +"Remember your promise." + +"Oh, but Queen! Queen! Why I'm dreaming, I _must_ scream." + +"I gather from these rapt incoherences that you'd like it." + +"_Like_ it! You silly! Like it? Haven't I lived for it? Haven't I +dreamed about it ever since T was a baby? Wouldn't any girl give her +eyes to be queen?" She seemed upon the verge of kissing him, perhaps +upon the nose, but changed her mind and went dancing around his chair +like some moon-mad sprite. He seized her, barely in time to prevent her +from crying the news aloud to Bernie, explaining hastily that she must +breathe no word to any one for the time being and must first win her +brother's consent. It was very difficult to impress her with the fact +that the Carnival was still a long way off and that Bernie was yet to +be reckoned with. + +"As if there could be any question of my accepting," she chattered. +"Dear, dear! Why shouldn't I? And it was lovely of you to arrange it +for me, too. Oh, I know you did, so you needn't deny it. I hope you're +to be Rex. Wouldn't that be splendid--but of course you wouldn't tell +me." + +"I can tell you this much, that I am not to be King. Now I have already +spoken to Bernie--" + +"The wretch! He never breathed a word of it." + +"He's afraid he can't afford it." + +"Oh, la, la! He'll have to. I'll die if he refuses--just die. You know +I will." + +"We'll bring him around, between us. You talk to him after I go, and +the next time I see him I'll clinch matters. You'll make the most +gorgeous of queens, Myra Nell." + +"You think so?" She blushed prettily in the gloom. "I'll have to be +very dignified; the train is as long as a hall carpet and I'll have to +walk this way." She illustrated the royal step, bowing to him with a +regal inclination of her dark head, and then broke out into rippling +life and laughter so infectious that he felt he was a boy once more. + +The girl's unaffected spontaneity was her most adorable trait. She was +like a dancing ray of sunshine, and underneath her blithesome +carelessness was a fine, clean, tender nature. Blake watched her with +his eyes alight, for all men loved Myra Nell Warren and it was conceded +among those who worshiped at her shrine that he who finally received +her love in return for his would be favored far above his kind. She was +closer to him to-night than ever before; she seemed to reach out and +take him into her warm confidence, while he felt her appeal more +strongly than at any time in their acquaintance. Of course she did not +let him do much talking, she never did that, and now her head was full +of dreams, of delirious anticipations, of splendid visions. + +At last, when she had thanked him in as many ways as she could think of +for his kindness and the time drew near for him to leave, she fell +serious in a most abrupt manner, and then to his great surprise +referred once again to his affair with the Mafia. + +"It seems to me that my joy would be supreme to-night if I knew you +would drop that Italian matter," she said. "The consequences may be +terrible and--I--don't want you to get into trouble." + +"I'll be careful," he told her, but as she stood with her hand in his +she looked up at him with eyes which were no longer sparkling with fun, +but deep and dark with shadows, saying, gently: + +"Is there nothing which would induce you to change your mind?" + +"That's not a fair question." + +"I shall be worried to death--and I detest worry." + +"There's no necessity for the least bit of concern," he assured her. +But there was a plaintive wrinkle upon her brow as she watched him +swing down the walk to the street. + +As Blake strolled homeward he began to reflect that this charming +intimacy with Myra Nell Warren could not go much farther without doing +her an injustice. The time was rapidly nearing when he would have to +make up his mind either to have very much more or very much less of her +society. He was undeniably fond of her, for she not only interested +him, but, what is far rarer and quite as important, she amused him. +Moreover, she was of his own people; the very music of her Southern +speech soothed his ear in contrast with the harsh accents of his +Northern acquaintances. The thought came to him with a profound appeal +that she might grow to love him with that unswerving faithfulness which +distinguishes the Southern woman. And yet, strangely enough, when he +retired that night it was not with her picture in his mind, but that of +a splendid, tawny Sicilian girl with lips as fresh as a half-opened +flower and eyes as deep as the sea. + + + + +XI + +THE KIDNAPPING + + + +Bernie Dreux appeared at Blake's office on the following afternoon with +a sour look upon his face. Norvin had known he would come, but hardly +expected Myra Nell to win her victory so easily. Without waiting for +the little man to speak, he began: + +"I know what you're here for and I know just what you're going to tell +me, so proceed; run me through with your reproaches; I offer no +resistance." + +"Do you think you acted very decently?" Dreux inquired. + +"My dear Bernie, a crown was at stake." + +"A crown of thorns for me. It means bankruptcy." + +"Then you have consented? Good! I knew you would." + +"Of course you knew I would; that's what makes your trick so +abominable. I didn't think it of you." + +"That's because you don't know my depravity; few people do." + +"It would serve you right if I accepted your loan and never paid you +back." + +"It would indeed." Blake laughingly laid his hand upon his friend's +shoulder. "What's more, that is exactly what I would do in your place. +I'd borrow all I could and give my sister her one supreme hour, free +from all disturbing fears and embarrassments; then I'd tell the +impertinent meddler who was to blame for my trouble to go whistle for +his satisfaction. Of course Miss Myra Nell doesn't suspect?" + +"Oh, Heaven forbid!" piously exclaimed Dreuix. + +"Now how much will you need?" + +"I don't know; some fabulous sum. There will be gowns, and luncheons, +and carriages, and entertaining. I will have to figure it out." + +"Do. Then double it. And thanks awfully for coming to your senses." + +"That's just the point--I haven't come to them, I'm perfectly insane to +consider it," Bernie declared, savagely. "But what can I do when she +looks at me with her eyes like stars and--and--" He waved his hands +hopelessly. "It's mighty decent of you, but understand I consider it a +dastardly trick and I'm horribly offended." + +"Exactly, and I don't blame you, but your sister deserves a crown for +her royal gift of youth and sweetness. As for being offended, since you +are not one of the Mafia, I am not afraid." + +"Do you know," said Bernie, "I have been thinking about this Mafia +matter ever since I saw you. I'm tremendously interested and I--I'm +beginning to feel the dawning of a civic spirit. Remarkable, eh? You +know I haven't many interests, and I'd like to--to take a hand in +running down these miscreants. I've always had an ambition, ever since +I was a child, to be a--Don't laugh now. This is a confession. I've +always wanted to be a--detective." He looked very grave, and at the +same time a little shamefaced. "Do you suppose Donnelly could make me +one?" + +"Well! This is rather startling," said Blake, with difficulty +restraining a desire to laugh. + +"I--I can wear disguises wonderfully well," Bernie went on, wistfully. +"I learned when I was in college theatricals. I was really very good. +And you see I might earn a lot of money that way; I understand there +are tremendous rewards offered for train-robbers and that sort of +people. No one need know, of course, and no one would ever suspect me +of being a minion of the law." + +"That's true enough. But I'm afraid detectives in real life don't wear +false beards. It's a pretty mean occupation, I fancy. Do you seriously +think you are--er--fitted for it?" + +"Heavens! I'm no good at anything else, and I'm perfectly wonderful at +worming secrets out of people. This Mafia matter would give me a great +opportunity. I--think I'll try it." + +"These Italians have no sense of humor, you know. Something +disagreeable might happen if you went prowling around them." + +"Oh, of course I'd quit if they discovered my intentions--my game. When +we were talking of such things, the other day, I said I was a coward, +but really I'm not. I've a frightful temper when I'm roused--really +fiendish. As a matter of fact, I've"--he smiled sheepishly and tapped +his slender, high-arched foot with his rattan cane--"I've already +begun." + +Blake settled back in his chair without a word. + +"I'm taking Italian lessons from Myra Nell's nurse, Miss Fabrizi. She's +a very superior woman, for a nurse, and she knows all about the Mafia. +Quite an inspiration, I call it, thinking of her. I'm working her for +informa--for a clue." He winked one eye gravely, and Norvin gasped. +Bernie suddenly seemed very secretive, very different from his usual +self. It was the first time Blake had ever seen him give this +particular facial demonstration, and the effect was much as if some +benevolent old lady had winked brazenly. + +"Well!" he exclaimed. "I don't know what to say." + +"There is nothing to say," Mr. Dreux answered in a vastly +self-satisfied tone. "I'm going to offer my services to Donnelly--in +confidence, of course. I'm glad you introduced us, for otherwise I'd +have to arrange to meet him properly. If he doesn't want me, I'll +proceed unaided." + +When his caller had gone Blake gave way to the hearty laughter he had +been smothering, dwelling with keen enjoyment upon the probable result +of Bernie's interview with the Chief. Dan, he was sure, would not hurt +the little man's feelings, so he felt no obligation to interfere. + +Although he was expecting to hear from Donnelly at any moment regarding +the Narcone matter, it was not until two weeks after their nocturnal +excursion to the Italian quarter that the Chief came to see him. He +brought unexpected news. + +"We've had a run of luck," he began. "I've verified the information in +that letter and found that those extradition papers for Narcone are +really in New York. What's more, there's an Italian detective there on +another matter, and he's ready to take our man back to Sicily with him." + +"Really!" + +"Narcone, it seems, was in New York for a year before he came here; +that's why steps were taken to extradite him. Then he evidently got +suspicious and came South. Anyhow, the plank is all greased, and if we +land him in that city he'll go back to Sicily." + +"I see. All that's necessary is to invite him to run up there and be +arrested. It seems to me you're just where you were two weeks ago, Dan; +unfortunately, this doesn't happen to be New York, and you've still got +to solve the important problem of getting him there." + +"I'm going to kidnap him," said the Chief, quietly. + +"What? You're joking!" + +"Not a bit of it." + +"But--kidnapping--it isn't done any more! It's not even considered the +thing in police circles, I believe. You'll be stealing children next, +like any Mafioso." + +Donnelly grinned. "That's where I got the idea. This same Narcone is +mixed up in the Domenchino case. The kid has been gone nearly a month, +now, but the father won't help us. He made a roar at the start, but +they evidently got to him and now he declares that the boy must have +strayed away to the river-front and been drowned. Well, it occurred to +me to treat that Quatrone gang to some of its own medicine by stealing +their ringleader." + +"There's poetic justice in the idea--that is, if Narcone was really +connected with the disappearance of the child." + +"Oh, he was connected with it all right. Ordinary blackmail was getting +too slow for the outfit, so they went after a good ransom. Now that old +Domenchino has kicked up such a row, they're afraid to come through, +and have probably murdered the child. That's what he fears, at any +rate, and that's why he won't help us." + +"It's shocking! But tell me, is this plan your own, or did Bernie Dreux +suggest it?" + +Donnelly laughed silently. + +"So you knew he'd turned fly cop? I thought I'd split when he came to +me." + +"I hope you didn't offend him." + +"Oh, not at all. Those little milliners are mighty sensitive. I told +him he had the makings of another Le Coq, but the force was full. I +suggested that he work on the outside, and set him to watching a +certain dago fruit-stand on Canal Street." + +"Why that particular stand?" + +"Because it's owned by one of our men and he can't come to any harm +there. He reports every day." + +"But Narcone--Are you really in earnest about this scheme?" + +"I am. It's our only chance to land him, and I've got to accomplish +something or quit drawing my salary. Here's the layout; the Pinkertons +have an operative who knew Sabella in New York; they were friends, in +fact. This fellow arrived here two hours ago--calls himself Corte. He's +to renew his acquaintance with our man and explain that he is returning +to New York in a week. The day he sails we grab Mr. Narcone, hustle him +aboard ship, and Corte will see to the rest. If it works right +nobody'll know anything about it until Narcone is at sea, when it will +be too late for interference. It's old stuff, but it'll work." + +From what he knew of the Sicilian bandit, Blake felt a certain doubt as +to the practicability of this plan, yet he was relieved to learn that +he would not be called upon to testify. He therefore expressed himself +as gratified at the change of procedure. + +"It was partly to spare you," the Chief replied, "that I decided on +this course. I want you to help me though." + +"In what way?" + +"Well, it will naturally take some force; Narcone won't go willingly. I +want you to help me take him." + +Instantly those fears which had been lulled in Norvin's breast leaped +into turmoil; the same sick surge of emotions rose, and he felt himself +quailing. After an instant's pause he said: + +"I'll act any part you cast me for, but don't you think it is work for +trained officers like you and this Corte?" + +"That's exactly the point. Narcone may put up a fight, and I have more +confidence in you, when it comes to a pinch, than in any man I know. +Corte's job is to get him down to the dock, and I can't ask any of my +men to take a hand with me, for it's--well, not exactly regular. +Besides, I may need a witness." Donnelly hesitated. "If I do need one, +I'll want some man whose word will carry more weight than that of a +policeman. You understand?" He leveled his blue eyes at Blake and they +looked particularly smoky and cold. + +"You mean the Quatrones may try to break you?" + +"Something like that." + +"Suppose Narcone--er--resists?" + +Donnelly shrugged, "We can't very well kill him, That's what makes it +hard. I knew you had as much at stake as I, so I felt sure you'd help." + +Blake heard himself assuring the officer that he had not been mistaken, +but it was not his own voice that reached his ears, and when his caller +had gone he found himself sitting limply in his chair, numb with horror +at his own temerity. + +As he looked back upon it, blaming himself for his too ready agreement, +he realized that several mingling emotions had been at the root of it. +In the first place, he had said "yes" because his craven spirit had +screamed "no" so loudly. He felt that the project was not only +dangerous, but impracticable, yet something, which he chose to term his +over-will, had warned him that he must not upon any account give way to +fear lest he weaken his already insecure hold upon himself. Again, +Donnelly had appealed to him in a way hard to resist. He was not only +flattered by the Chief's high regard for his courage, but grateful to +him for having relieved him of the notoriety and possible consequences +of a public proceeding. Most of all, perhaps, his final acquiescence +had been an instinctive reaction of rage and disgust at the part of his +nature that he hated. He struck at it as a man strikes at a snake. + +But now that he was irrevocably pledged, his reason broke and fled, +leaving him a prey to his imagination. + +What, he wondered, would Narcone do when he saw his life at stake--when +he recognized in one of his captors the man he had craved to kill in +the forest of Terranova? There would in all probability be a physical +struggle--perhaps he would find his own flabby muscles pitted against +the mighty thews of the Sicilian butcher. At the thought he felt again +the melting horror which had weakened him on that unspeakable night +when Narcone had turned from wiping the warm blood from his hands to +glare into his face. Blake feared that the memories would return to +betray him at the last moment. That would mean that he would be left +naked of the reputation he had guarded so jealously--and a far worse +calamity--that his rebellious nature would finally triumph. One defeat, +he knew, implied total overthrow. + +He tried to reason that he was magnifying the danger--that Narcone +would be easily handled, that other criminals as desperate had been +taken without a struggle, but the instant such grains of comfort +touched the healed terrors in his mind they vanished like drops of +water sprinkled upon an incandescent furnace. + +Nevertheless, he was pledged, and he knew that he would go. + +He had barely gotten himself under a semblance of control, two days +later, when Donnelly called him up by telephone to advise him in +cautious terms that affairs were nearing a climax and to warn him to +make ready. + +This served to throw him into a renewed panic. It required a tremendous +effort to concentrate upon his business affairs, and it took the genius +of an actor to carry him through the inconsequent details of his +every-day life without betrayal. Alone, at home, upon the crowded +'Change, in deadly-dull directors' meetings, that sinister shadow +overhung him. These long, leaden hours of suspense were doing what +nothing else had been able to do since he took himself definitely in +hand. They were harder to bear than any of those disciplinary +experiences which had turned his hair white and burned his youth to an +ash. + +At last Donnelly came. + +"Corte has framed it for to-morrow," he announced with evident +satisfaction. + +"To-morrow?" Norvin echoed, faintly. + +"Yes. He's sailing on the _Philadelphia_ at eleven o'clock--no stops +between here and New York. They'll be waiting for Narcone at +Quarantine." + +"I'm glad--it's time to do something." + +Donnelly rubbed his palms together and showed his teeth in a smile, +"Corte says he'll have him at the Cromwell Line docks without fail, so +that will save us grabbing him on the street and holding him until +sailing time. If we pull it off quietly, at the last minute, nobody'll +know anything about it. You'd better be at my office by nine, in case +anything goes wrong." + +"You may count on me," Blake answered in a tone that gave no hint of +his inward flinching. But once alone, he found that his nerves would +not allow him to work. He closed his desk and went home. When the heat +of the afternoon diminished he took out his saddle-horse and went for a +gallop, thinking in this way to blow some of the tortured fancies out +of his mind, but he did not succeed. + +Despite his agitation, he ate a hearty dinner--much as a condemned man +devours his last meal--but he could not sleep. All night he alternately +tossed in his bed or paced his room restlessly, his features working, +his body shivering. + +He ate breakfast, however, with an apparent appetite that delighted his +colored servant, and as the clock struck nine he walked into Donnelly's +office, smoking a cigar which he did not taste. + +"I haven't heard anything further from Corte, so we'll go down to the +dock," the Chief informed him. + +On the way to the river-front, Blake continued to smoke silently, +giving a careful ear to Donnelly's final directions. When they reached +their destination he waited while Dan went aboard the ship in search of +the captain. + +In those days, rail transportation had not developed into its present +proportions, and New Orleans was even more interesting as a +shipping-point than now. Along the levee stretched rows of craft from +every port, big black ocean liners, barques and brigantines, fruit +steamers from the tropics, and a tremendous flotilla of flat-nosed +river steamers with their huge tows of barges. The cavernous sheds that +lined the embankment echoed to a thunder of rumbling trucks, of +clanking winches, of stamping hoofs, while through and above it all +came the cries and songs of a multitude of roustabouts and deck-hands. +Down the gangways of the _Philadelphia_, a thin, continuous line of +dusky truckmen was moving. A growing chaos of trunks and smaller +baggage on the dock indicated that her passenger-list was heavy. + +Blake watched the shifting scene with little interest, now and then +casting an unseeing eye over the ramparts of cotton bales near by; but +although he was outwardly calm, his palms were cold and wet and his +mind was working with a panicky swiftness. + +Donnelly reappeared with the assurance that all was arranged with the +ship's master, and, taking their stand where they could observe what +went on, they settled themselves to wait. + +Again the moments dragged. Again Blake fought his usual weary battle. +He envied Donnelly his utter impassivity, for the officer betrayed no +more feeling than as if he were standing, rod in hand, waiting for a +fish to strike. An hour passed, bringing no sign of their men, although +a stream of passengers was filing aboard and the piles of baggage were +diminishing. Norvin struggled with the desire to voice his misgivings, +which were taking the form of hopes; Donnelly chewed tobacco, and +occasionally spat accurately at a knot-hole. His companion watched him +curiously. Then, without warning, the Chief stirred, and there in the +crowd Norvin suddenly saw the tall figure of Gian Narcone, with another +man, evidently a Sicilian, beside him. + +"That's Corte," Donnelly said, quietly. + +The two watchers mingled with the crowd, gradually drawing closer to +their quarry. But it seemed that Narcone refused to go aboard with his +friend--at any rate, he made no move in that direction. The +_Philadelphia_ blew a warning blast, the remaining passengers quickened +their movements, there was but little baggage left now upon the deck, +and still the two Italians stood talking volubly. Donnelly waited +stolidly near by, never glancing at his man. Blake held himself with an +iron grip, although his heart-throbs were choking him. It was plain +that Corte also was beginning to feel the strain, and Norvin began to +fear that Donnelly would delay too long. + +At last the Pinkerton man stooped and raised his valise, then extended +his hand to the Mafioso. Donnelly edged closer. + +Blake knew that the moment for action had come, and found that without +any exercise of will-power he too was closing in. His mind was working +at such high speed that time seemed to halt and wait. Donnelly was +within arm's-length of Narcone before he spoke; then he said, quietly, +"Going to leave the city, Sabella?" + +"Eh?" The Sicilian started, his eyes leaped to the speaker, and the +smile died from his heavy features. Recognizing the officer, however, +he pulled at the visor of his cap, and said, brokenly: "No, no, +Signore. My friend goes." + +"Come, now," the Chief said, grimly. "I want you to tell me something +about the Domenchino boy." + +Narcone recoiled, colliding with Blake, who instantly locked his arm +within his own. Simultaneously Donnelly seized the other wrist, +repeating, "You know who stole the little Domenchino." + +The tension which had leaped into the giant muscles died away; Narcone +shrugged his shoulders, crying, excitedly, in his native tongue: + +"Before God you wrong me." + +It was the instant for which his captor had planned; the ruse had +worked; there was a deft movement on Donnelly's part, something snapped +metallically, and the manacles of the law were upon the murderer of +Martel Savigno. + +It had all been accomplished quietly, quickly; even those standing near +by hardly noticed it, and those who did were unaware of the +significance of the arrest. But once his man was safely ironed, the +Chief's manner changed, and in the next instant the prisoner caught, +perhaps from the eye of Corte, the stool-pigeon, some fleeting hint +that he had been betrayed. Following that came the suspicion that he +had been seized not for complicity in the Domenchino affair, but for +something far more significant. With a furious, snarling cry he flung +himself backward and raised his manacled hands to strike. + +But it was too late for effective resistance. They took him across the +gang-plank, screaming, struggling, biting like a maddened animal, while +curious passengers rushed to the rails above and stared at them, and +another crowd yelled and hooted derisively from the dock. + +A moment later they were in Corte's stateroom, panting, grim, +triumphant, with their prisoner's back against the wall and their work +done. + +Now that Narcone realized the deception that had been practised upon +him he began to curse his betrayer with incredible violence and +fluency. As yet he had no idea whither he was being taken, nor for +which of his many crimes he had been apprehended. But it seemed as if +his rage would strangle him. With the unrestraint of a lifetime of +lawlessness he poured out his passion in a terrifying rush of +vilification, anathema, and threat. He hurled himself against the walls +of the stateroom as if to burst his way out, and they were forced to +clamp leg-irons upon him. When Donnelly had regained his breath he +savagely commanded the fellow to be silent, but Narcone only shifted +his fury from his betrayer to the Chief of Police. + +To the Pinkerton operative Donnelly said, gratefully: "That was good +work, Corte. Wire me from New York. We'll have to go now, for the ship +is clearing." + +"Wait!" said Blake; then pushing himself forward, he addressed the +captive in Italian, "Where is Belisario Cardi?" + +The question came like a gunshot, silencing the outlaw as if with a +gag. His bloodshot eyes searched his questioner's face; his lips, wet +with slaver, were snarling like those of a dog, but he said nothing. + +"Where is Belisario Cardi?" came the question for a second time. + +"I do not know him," said the Sicilian, sullenly. "I am Vito Sabella, +an honest man--" + +"You are Gian Narcone, the butcher, of San Sebastiano," said Blake. +"You are going back to Sicily to be hanged for the murder of Martel +Savigno, Count of Martinello, and his man Ricardo." + +"Bah!" cried the prisoner, loudly. "I am not this Narcone of which you +speak. I do not know him. I am Vito Sabella, a poor man, I swear it by +the body of Christ. I have never seen this Cardi. God will punish those +who persecute me." + +Blake leaned forward until his face was close to Narcone's. + +"Look closely," he said. "Have you ever seen me before?" + +They stared at each other, eye to eye, and the Sicilian nodded. + +"You were drinking chianti in the cafe on Royal Street, but I swear to +you I am an innocent man and I curse those who betray me." + +"Think! Do you recall a night four years ago? You were waiting beside +the road above Terranova. There was a feast of all the country people +at the castello, and finally three men came riding upward through the +darkness. One of them was singing, for it was the eve of his marriage, +and you knew him by his voice as the Count of Martinello. Do you +remember what happened then? Think! You were called Narcone the +Butcher, and you boasted loudly of your skill with the knife as you +dried your hands upon a wisp of grass. You left two men in the road +that night, but the third returned to Terranova. I ask you again if you +have ever seen my face." + +The effect of these words was extraordinary. The fury died from the +prisoner's eyes, his coarse lips fell apart, the blood receded from his +purple cheeks, he shrank and shivered loosely. In the silence they +could hear the breath wheezing hoarsely in his throat. Blake made a +final appeal. + +"They will take you back to Sicily, to Colonel Neri and his carbineers, +and you will hang. Before it is too late, tell me, where is Belisario +Cardi?" + +Narcone moistened his livid lips and glared malignantly at his +inquisitors. But he could not be prevailed upon to speak. + +"Well, that was easy," said Donnelly, when the _Philadelphia_ had cast +off and the two friends were once more back in the rush and bustle of +the water-front. + +Norvin agreed. "And yet it seemed a bit unfair," he remarked. "There +were three of us, you know. If he were not what he is, I'd feel +somewhat ashamed of my part in the affair." Donnelly showed his +contempt for such quixotic views by an expressive grunt. "You can take +the next one single-handed, if you prefer. Perhaps it may be your +friend Cardi." + +"Perhaps," said Norvin, gravely. "If that should happen, I should feel +that I had paid my debt in full." + +"I'd like a chance to sweat Narcone," growled the Chief, regretfully. +"I'd find Cardi, or I'd--" He heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, well, we've +done a good day's work as it is. I hope the papers don't get hold of +it." + +But the papers did get hold of it, and with an effect which neither man +had anticipated. Had they foreseen the consequences of this morning's +work, had they even remotely guessed at the forces they had unwittingly +set in motion, they would have lost something of their complacency. +Throughout the greater part of the city that night the kidnapping of +Vito Sabella became the subject of excited comment. In the neighborhood +of St. Phillip Street it was received in an ominous silence. + + + + +XII + +LA MAFIA + + + +The surprising ease with which the capture of Narcone had been effected +gratified Norvin Blake immensely, for it gave him an opportunity to +jeer at the weaker side of his nature. He told himself that the +incident went to prove what his saner judgment was forever saying--that +fear depends largely upon the power of visualization, that danger is +real only in so far as the mind sees it. Moreover, the admiration his +conduct aroused was balm to his soul. His friends congratulated him +warmly, agreeing that he and Donnelly had taken the only practical +means to rid the community of a menace. + +In our Southern and Western States, where individual character stands +for more than it does in the over-legalized communities of the North +and East, men are concerned not so much with red-tape as with effects, +and hence there was little disposition to criticize. + +Blake was amazed to discover what a strong public sentiment the Italian +outrages had awakened. New Orleans, it seemed, was not only indignant, +but alarmed. + +His self-satisfaction received a sudden shock, however, when Donnelly +strolled into his office a few days later, and without a word laid a +letter upon his desk. It ran as follows: + +DANIEL DONNELLY, Chief of Police, + + NEW ORLEANS, LA. + +DEAR SIR,--God be praised that Gian Narcone has gone to his punishment! +But you have incurred the everlasting enmity of the Mala Vita, or what +you term La Mafia, and it has been decided that your life must pay for +his. You are to be killed next Thursday night at the Red Wing Club. I +cannot name those upon whom the choice has fallen, for that is veiled +in secrecy. + +I pray that you will not ignore this warning, for if you do your blood +will rest upon, ONE WHO KNOWS. + +P. S. Destroy this letter. + +The color had receded from Norvin's face when he looked up to meet the +smoke-blue eyes of his friend. + +"God!" he exclaimed. "This--looks bad, doesn't it?" + +"You think it's on the level?" + +"Don't you?" + +Donnelly shrugged. "I'm blessed if I know. It may have come from the +very gang I'm after. It strikes me that they wanted to get rid of +Narcone, but didn't know just how to go about it, so used me for an +instrument. Now they want to scare me off." + +"But--he names the very place; the very hour." + +"Sure--everything except the very dago who is to do the killing! If +he knew where and when, why wouldn't he know how and who?" + +"I--that sounds reasonable, and yet--you are not going to the Red Wing +Club any more, are you?" + +"Why not? I've got until Thursday and--I like their coffee. Here is the +other letter, by the way." Donnelly produced the first communication. +The paper was identical and the type appeared to be the same. Beyond +this Norvin could make out nothing. + +"Well," Dan exclaimed, when they had exhausted their conjectures, +"they've set their date and I reckon they won't change it, so I'm going +to eat dinner to-night at the Red Wing Club as usual, just to see what +happens." + +After a brief hesitation Norvin said, "I'd like to join you, if you +don't mind." + +Donnelly shook his gray head doubtfully. "I don't think you'd better. +This may be on the square." + +"I think it is, and therefore I intend to see you through." + +"Suit yourself, of course. I'd like to have you go along, but I don't +want to get you into any fuss." + +Seven o'clock that evening found the two friends dining at the little +cafe in the foreign quarter, but they were seated at one of the corner +tables and their backs were toward the wall. + +"I've had my reasons for eating here, and it wasn't altogether the +coffee, either," the elder man confessed. + +"I suspected as much," Norvin told him. "At least I couldn't detect +anything remarkable about this Rio." + +"You see, it's a favorite hang-out of the better Italian class, and +I've been working it carefully for a year." + +"What have you discovered?" + +"Not much, and yet a great deal. I've made friends, for one thing, and +that's considerable. Here comes one now. You know him, don't you?" Dan +indicated a thick-necked, squarely built Italian who had entered at the +moment. "That's Caesar Maruffi." + +Norvin regarded the new-comer with interest, for Maruffi stood for what +is best among his Americanized countrymen. Moreover, if rumor spoke +true, he was one of the richest and most influential foreigners in the +city. In answer to the Chief's invitation he approached and seated +himself at the table, accepting his introduction to Blake with a smile +and a gracious word. + +"Ah! It is my first opportunity to thank you for the service you have +done us in arresting that hateful brigand," he began. + +"Did you know the fellow?" Norvin queried. + +"Very well indeed." + +"Maruffi knows a whole lot, if he'd only open up. He's a Mafioso +himself--eh, Caesar?" The Chief laughed. + +"No, no!" the other exclaimed, casting a cautious glance over his +shoulder. "I tell you everything I learn. But as for this Sabella--I +thought him a trifle sullen, perhaps, but an honest fellow." + +"You don't really think there has been any mistake?" + +"Eh? How could that be possible? Did not Signore Blake remember him?" +Norvin was about to disclaim his part in the affair, but the speaker +ran on: + +"I fear you must regard all us Italians as Mafiosi, Signore Blake, but +it is not so. No! We are honest people, but we are terrorized by a few +bad men. We do not know them, Signore. We are robbed, we are +blackmailed, and if we resist, behold! something unspeakable befalls +us. We do not know who deals the blow, we merely know that we are +marked and that some day we--are buried." Maruffi shrugged his square +shoulders expressively. + + "Do you suffer in your business?" Norvin asked. + +"Per Dio! Who does not? I have adopted your free country, Signore, but +it is not so free as my own. Maledetto! You have too damned many laws +in this free America." + +Maruffi spoke hesitatingly, and yet with intense feeling; his black +eyes glittered wickedly, and it was plain that he sounded the note of +revolt which was rising from the law-abiding Italian element. His +appearance bore out his reputation for leadership, for he was big and +black and dour, and he gave the impression of unusual force. + +"Your home is in Sicily, is it not?" Blake inquired. + +"Si! I come from Palermo." + +"I have been there." + +"I remember," said Maruffi, calmly. + +Donnelly broke in, "What do you hear regarding our capture of Sabella?" + +"Eh?" + +"How do they take it?" + +Again Maruffi shrugged. "How can they take it? My good countrymen are +delighted; others, perhaps, not so well pleased." + +"But Sabella has friends. I suppose they've marked me for revenge?" + +"No doubt! But what can they do? You are the law. With a private +citizen, with me, for instance, it would be different. My wife would +prepare herself for widowhood." + +"How's that? You're not married," said Donnelly. + +"Not yet. But I have plans. A fine Sicilian girl." + +"Good! I congratulate you." + +"Speaking of Sabella," Blake interposed, curiously, "I had a hand in +taking him, and I'm a private citizen." + +"True!" Maruffi regarded him with his impenetrable eyes. + +"You predict trouble for me, then?" + +"I predict nothing. We say in my country that no one escapes the Mafia. +No doubt we are timid. You are an American, you are not easily +frightened. But tell me"--he turned to the Chief of Police--"who is to +follow this brigand? There are others quite as black as he, if they +were known." + +"No doubt! But, unfortunately, I don't know them. Why don't you help me +out, Caesar?" + +"If I could! You have no suspicions, eh?" + +"Plenty of suspicions, but no proofs." + +Maruffi turned back to Norvin, saying: "So, you identified the murderer +of your friend Savigno? Madonna mia! You have a memory! But were you +not--afraid?" + +"Afraid of what?" + +"Ah! You are American, as I said before; you fear nothing. But it was +Belisario Cardi who killed the Conte of Martinello." + +"Belisario Cardi is only a name," said Norvin, guardedly. + +"True!" Maruffi agreed. "Being a Palermitan myself, he is real to me, +but, as you say, nobody knows." + +He rose and shook hands cordially with both men. When he had joined the +group of Italians at a near-by table, Donnelly said: + +"There's the whitest dago in the city. I thought he might be the 'One +Who Knows,' but I reckon I was mistaken. He could help me, though, if +he dared." + +"Have you confided in him?" + +"Lord, no! I don't trust any of them. Say! The more I think about that +letter, the more I think it's a bluff." + +"You can't afford to ignore it." + +"Of course not. I'll plant O'Connell and another man outside on +Thursday night and see if anything suspicious turns up, but I'll take +my dinner elsewhere." + +The two men had finished their meal when Bernie Dreux strolled in and +took the seat which Maruffi had vacated. + +"Well, how goes your detecting, Bernie?" Norvin inquired. + +"_Hist_!" breathed the little man so sharply that his hearers started. +He winked mysteriously and they saw that he was bursting with important +tidings. "There's something doing!" + +"What is it?" demanded the Chief. But Mr. Dreux answered nothing. +Instead he lit a cigarette, and as he raised the match looked guardedly +into a mirror behind Donnelly's chair. + +"I'm glad you took this table," he began in a low voice. "I always sit +where I can get a flash." + +"A _what_?" queried the astonished Blake. + +"Pianissimo with that talk!" cautioned the speaker. "You'll tip him +off." + +"Tip who?" Donnelly breathed. + +"My man! He's one of the gang. Do you see that fellow--that wop next to +Caesar Maruffi?" Bernie did not lower his eyes from the mirror, "the +third from the left." + +"Sure!" + +"Well!" triumphantly. + +"Well?" + +"That is he." + +"That's who?" + +"I don't know." + +"What the--" + +"He's one of 'em, that's all I know. I've been on him for a week. I've +trailed him everywhere. He has an accomplice--a woman!" + +The Chief's face underwent a remarkable change. "Are you sure?" he +whispered, eagerly. + +"It's a cinch! He comes to the fruit-stand every day. I think he's +after blackmail, but I'm not sure." + +"Good!" Dan exclaimed. "I want you to trail him wherever he goes, and, +above all, watch the woman. Now tear back to your banana rookery or +you'll miss something. Better have a drink first, though." + +"I'll go you; it's tough work on the nerves. I'm all upset." + +"I thought you never drank whiskey," Norvin said, still amazed at the +extraordinary transformation in his friend. + +"I don't as a rule, it kippers my stomach; but it gives me the courage +of a lion." + +Donnelly nodded with satisfaction. "Don't get pickled, but keep your +nerve. Remember, I'm depending on you." + +Dreux's slender form writhed and shuddered as he swallowed the liquor, +but his eyes were shining when he rose to go. "I'm glad I'm making +good," said he. "If anything happens to me, keep your eye skinned for +that fellow; there's dirty work afoot." + +When he had gone Donnelly stuck his napkin into his mouth to still his +laughter. "'There's dirty work afoot,'" he quoted in a strangling +voice. "Can you beat that?" + +"I--can't believe my senses. Why, Bernie's actually getting tough! Who +is this fellow he's trailing?" + +"That? That's Joe Poggi, the owner of the fruit-stand. He's my best +dago detective, and I sent him here to-night in case anything blew off. +The woman is his wife--lovely lady, too. 'Blackmail!' Oh, Lord! I'll +have to tell Poggi about this. I'll have to tell him he's being +shadowed, too, or he'll stop suddenly on the street some day and Bernie +will run into him from behind and break his nose." + +Thursday night passed without incident. Donnelly set a watch upon the +Red Wing Club, but nothing occurred to give the least color to the +written warning. In the course of a fortnight he had well-nigh +forgotten it, and when a third letter came he was less than ever +inclined to believe it genuine. + +"You forestalled the first attempt upon your life," wrote the +informant, "but another will be made. You are to be shot at Police +Headquarters some night next week. Your desk stands just inside a +window which opens upon the street. A fight will occur at the corner +near by and during the disturbance an assassin will fire upon you out +of the darkness, then disappear in the confusion. Do not treat this +warning lightly or I swear that you will repent it. + + "ONE WHO KNOWS" + +Donnelly showed this to Blake, saying, sourly, "You see. It's just as I +told you. They're trying to run me out." + +"What are you going to do?" + +"I'm going to move my desk, for one thing, then I'm going to run down +this writer. O'Connell is going through the stationery-stores now, +trying to match the water-mark on the paper. The post-office is on the +lookout for the next letter and will try to find which mail-box it is +dropped into." + +"Then you think there will be other letters to follow this one?" + +"Certainly! When they see that I've moved away from that window they'll +think they've got me going, then I'll be warned of another plot, and +another, and another. It might work with some people." The speaker's +lips curled in a wintry smile. + +"You no longer think it came from one of the Pallozzo gang?" + +"No! There's nobody in the outfit who can write a letter like that. +It's from the Mafia." + +"How can you say that when the same writer betrayed Narcone?" + +"Oh, I've asked myself the same question," Donnelly answered with a +trace of exasperation, "and I can't answer it unless that was merely a +case of revenge. Take it from me, I'll get another letter inside of ten +days. See if I don't." + +True to his prediction, the tenth day brought another warning. The +writer advised him that his enemies had changed their plans once more, +but would strike, when the first opportunity offered. As to where or +when this would occur, no information was given. The Chief was merely +urged in the strongest terms to remove himself beyond the possibility +of danger. + +Naturally the recipient took this as proof positive that the whole +affair was no more than a weak attempt to frighten him. Unfortunately, +the postal authorities could not determine where the letter had been +mailed, and O'Connell reported that the paper on which it was written +was of a variety in common use. There seemed to be little hope of +tracing the matter back to its source, so Donnelly dismissed the whole +affair from his mind and went about his duties undisturbed. + +Norvin Blake, however, could not bring himself to take the same view. +As usual, he attributed his fears to imagination, yet they preyed upon +him so constantly that he was forced to heed them. His one frightful +experience with La Mafia had marked him, it seemed, like some prenatal +influence, and now the more he dwelt upon the subject, the more his +apprehension quickened. He was ashamed to confess to Donnelly, and at +the same time he was loath to allow the Chief to expose himself +unnecessarily. Therefore he made it a point to be with him as much as +possible. This, of course, involved a considerable risk to himself, and +he recalled with misgiving what Caesar Maruffi had said that night in +the Red Wing Club. Donnelly alone had been warned, but that did not +argue that vengeance would be confined to him. + +October had come; the lazy heat of summer had passed and New Orleans +was awakening under its magic winter climate. The piny, breeze-swept +Gulf resorts had emptied their summer colonies cityward, the social +season had begun. + +The preparations for the great February Carnival were nearing +completion, and Blake had the satisfaction of knowing that Myra Nell +Warren was to realize her heart's desire. He had forced a loan upon +Bernie sufficient to meet the requirements of any Queen, and had spent +several delightful evenings with the girl herself, amused by her plans +of royal conquest. + +It was like a tonic to be with her. Norvin invariably parted from her +with a feeling of optimism and a gayety quite reasonless; he had no +fears, no apprehensions; the universe was peopled with sprites and +fairies, the morrow was a glad adventure full of merriment and promise. + +He was in precisely such a mood one drizzly Wednesday night after +having made an inexcusably long call upon her. Nothing whatever had +occurred to put him in this agreeable humor, yet he went homeward +humming as blithely as a barefoot boy in springtime. + +As he neared the neighborhood in which Donnelly lived he decided to +drop in on him for a few moments and smoke a cigar. Business had lately +kept him away from the Chief, and he felt a bit guilty. + +But Donnelly had either retired early or else he had not returned from +Headquarters, for his windows were dark, and Norvin retraced his steps, +a trifle disappointed. In front of a cobbler's shop, across the street, +several men were talking, and as he glanced in their direction the door +behind them opened, allowing a stream of light to pour forth. He +recognized Larubio, the old Italian shoemaker himself, and he was on +the point of inquiring if Donnelly had come home, but thought better of +it. + +Larubio and his companions were idling beneath the wooden awning or +shed which extended over the sidewalk, and in the open doorway, briefly +silhouetted against the yellow light, Blake noted a man clad in a +shining rubber coat. Although the picture was fleeting, it caught his +attention. + +The thought occurred to him that these men were Italians, and therefore +possible Mafiosi, but his mood was too optimistic to permit of silly +suspicions. To-night the Mafia seemed decidedly unreal and indefinite. + +He found himself smiling again at the memory of an argument in which he +had been worsted by Myra Nell. He had taken her a most elaborate box of +chocolates and she had gleefully promised to consume at least half of +them that very night after retiring. He had remonstrated at such an +unhygienic procedure, whereupon she had confessed to a secret, +ungovernable habit of eating candy in bed. He had argued that the +pernicious practice was sure to wreck her digestion and ruin her teeth, +but she had confounded him utterly by displaying twin rows as sound as +pearls, as white and regular as rice kernels. Her digestion, he had to +confess, was that of a Shetland pony, and he had been forced to fall +back upon an unconvincing prophecy of a toothless and dyspeptic old +age. He pictured her at this moment propped up in the middle of the +great mahogany four-poster, all lace and ruffles and ribbons, her +wayward hair in adorable confusion about her face, as she pawed over +the sweets and breathed ecstatic blessings upon his name. + +Near the corner he stumbled over a boy hiding in the shadows. Then as +he turned north on Rampart Street he ran plump into Donnelly and +O'Connell. + +"I just came from your house," he told Dan. "I thought I'd drop in and +smoke one of your bad cigars. Is there anything new?" + +"Not much! I've had a hard day and there was a Police Board meeting +to-night. I'm fagged out." + +"No more letters, eh?" + +"No. But I've heard that Sabella is safe in Sicily. That means his +finish. I'll have something else to tell you in a day or so; something +about your other friend, Cardi." + +"No! Really?" + +"If what I suspect is true, it'll be a sensation. I can't credit the +thing myself, that's why I don't want to say anything just yet. I'm all +up in the air over it." + +A moment later the three men separated, Donnelly and O'Connell turning +toward their respective homes, Blake continuing his way toward the +heart of the city. + +But the Chief's words had upset Norvin's complacency. His line of +thought was changed and he found himself once more dwelling upon the +tragedy which had left such a mark upon his life. Martel had been the +finest, the cleanest fellow he had ever known; his life, so full of +promise, had just begun, and yet he had been ruthlessly stricken down. +Norvin shuddered at the memory. He saw the road to Martinello +stretching out ahead of him like a ghost-gray canyon walled with gloom; +he heard the creaking of saddles, the muffled thud of hoofs in the dust +of the causeway, the song of a lover, then-- + +Blake halted suddenly, listening. From somewhere not far away came the +sound again; it was a gunshot, deadened by the blanket of mist and +drizzle that shrouded the streets. He turned. It was repeated for a +third time, and as he realized whence it came he cried out, +affrightedly: + +"Donnelly! Donnelly! Oh, God!" + +Then he began to run swiftly, as he had run that night four years +before, with the lights of Terranova in the distance, and in his heart +was that same sickening, horrible terror. But this time he ran, not +away from the sound, but towards it. + +As he raced along the slippery streets the night air was ripped again +and again with those same loud reverberations. He saw, by the +flickering arc-lamp above the crossing where he had just left Donnelly, +another figure flying towards him, and recognized O'Connell. Together +they turned into Girod Street. + +They were in time to see a flash from the shed that stood in front of +Larubio's shop, then an answering spurt of flame from the side of the +street upon which they were. The place was full of noise and smoke. At +the farther crossing a man in a shining rubber coat knelt and fired, +then rose and scurried into the darkness beyond. Figures broke out from +the shadows of the wooden awning in front of Larubio's shop and +followed, some turning towards the left at Basin Street, others +continuing on through the area lighted by the sputtering street light +and into the night. One of them paused and looked back as if loath to +leave the spot until certain of his work. + +Side by side Blake and O'Connell raced towards the Chief, whom they saw +lurching uncertainly along the banquette ahead of them. The detective +was cursing; Blake sobbed through his tight-clenched teeth. + +Donnelly was down when they reached him, and his empty revolver lay by +his side. Norvin raised him with shaking arms, his whole body sick with +horror. + +"Are you badly--hit, old man?" he gasped. + +"I'm--done for!" said the Chief, weakly. "And the dagos did it." + +From an open window above them a woman began to scream loudly: + +"Murder! Murder!" + +The cry was taken up in other quarters and went echoing down the street. + +Doors were flung wide, gates slammed, men came hurrying through the wet +night, hurling startled questions at one another, but the powder smoke +which hung sluggishly in the dark night air was sufficient answer. It +floated in thin blue layers beneath the electric lights, gradually +fading and melting as the life ebbed from the mangled body of Dan +Donnelly. + +It was nearing dawn when Norvin Blake emerged from the hospital whither +Donnelly had been taken. The air was dead and heavy, a dripping +winding-sheet of fog wrapped the city in its folds; no sound broke the +silence of the hour. He was sadly shaken, for he had watched a brave +soul pass out of the light, and in his ears the words of his friend +were ringing: + +"Don't let them get away with this, Norvin. You're the only man I +trust." + + + + +XIII + +THE BLOOD OF HIS ANCESTORS + + + +At the Central Station Norvin found a great confusion. City officials +and newspaper men were coming and going, telephones were ringing, +patrolmen and detectives, summoned from their beds, were reporting and +receiving orders; yet all this bustling activity affected him with a +kind of angry impatience. It seemed, somehow, perfunctory and +inadequate; in the intensity of his feeling he doubted that any one +else realized, as he did, the full significance of what had occurred. + +As quickly as possible he made his way to O'Neil, the Assistant +Superintendent of Police, who was deep in consultation with Mayor +Wright. For a moment he stood listening to their talk, and then, at the +first pause, interposed without ceremony: + +"Tell me--what is being done?" + +O'Neil, who had not seemed to note his approach, answered without a +hint of surprise at the interruption: + +"We are dragging the city." + +"Of course. Have you arrested Larubio, the cobbler?" + +"No!" Both men turned to Blake now with concentrated attention. + +"Then don't lose a moment's time. Arrest all his friends and +associates. Look for a man in a rubber coat. I saw him fire. There's a +boy, too," he added, after a moment's pause, "about fourteen years old. +He was hiding at the corner. I think he must have been their picket; at +any rate, he knows something." + +The Assistant Superintendent noted these directions, and listened +impassively while Norvin poured forth his story of the murder. Before +it was fairly concluded he was summoned elsewhere, and, turning away +abruptly, he left the room, like a man who knows he must think of but +one thing at a time. The young man, wiping his face with uncertain +hand, turned to the Mayor. + +"Dan was the second friend I've seen murdered by these devils," he +said. "I'd like to do something." + +"We'll need your help, if it was really the dagoes." + +"What? There's no doubt on that score. Donnelly was warned." + +"Well, we ought to have them under arrest in short order." + +"And then what? They've probably arranged their alibis long ago. The +fellows who did the shooting are not the only ones, either. We must get +the leaders." + +"Exactly. O'Neil understands." + +"But he'll fail, as Donnelly failed." + +"What would you have us do?" + +Blake spoke excitedly, his emotions finding a vent. + +"Do? I'd rouse the people. Awaken the city. Create an uprising of the +law-abiding. Strip the courts of their red tape and administer justice +with a rope. Hang the guilty ones at once, before delay robs their +execution of its effect and before there is time to breed doubts and +distrust in the minds of the people." + +"You mean, in plain words--lynch them?" + +"Well, what of that? It's the only--" + +"But, my dear young man, the law--" + +"Oh, I know what you're going to say, well enough, yet there are times +when mob law is justified. If these men are not destroyed quickly they +will live to laugh at our laws and our scheme of justice. We must +strike terror into the heart of every foreign-born criminal; we must +clean the city with fire, unless we wish to see our institutions become +a mockery and our community overridden by a band of cutthroats. The +killing of Dan Donnelly is more than a mere murder; it is an attack on +our civilization." + +"You are carried away by your personal feelings." + +"I think not. If this thing runs through the regular channels, what +will happen? You know how hard it is to convict those people. We must +fight fire with fire." + +"Personally, I agree with a good deal you say; officially, of course. I +can't go so far. You say you want to help. Will you assume a large +responsibility? Will you take the lead in a popular movement to help +the enforcement of the law--organize a committee?" + +"If you think I'm the right man?" + +"Good! Understand"--the Mayor spoke now with determined +earnestness--"we must have no lynchings; but I believe the police will +need help in the search, and I think you are the man to stir up the +public conscience and secure that aid. If you can help in apprehending +the criminals we shall see that the courts do their part. I can trust +you in so delicate a matter where I couldn't trust--some others." + +O'Neil appeared at that moment with two strange objects in his hands. + +"See what we've just found on the Basin Street banquette." + +He displayed a pair of sawed-off shotguns the stocks of which were +hinged in such a manner that the weapons could be doubled into a length +of perhaps eighteen inches and thus be concealed upon the person. Blake +examined them with mingled feelings. Having seen the body of the Chief +ripped and torn in twenty places by buckshot, slugs, and scraps of +iron, he had tried to imagine what sort of firearms had been used. Now +he knew, and he began to wonder whether death would come to him in the +same ugly form. + +"Have you sent for Larubio?" he asked. + +"The men are just leaving." + +"I'll go with them." + +O'Neil intercepted the officers at the door, and a moment later Norvin +was hurrying with them toward Girod Street. Mechanically his mind began +to review the events leading up to the murder, dwelling on each detail +with painful and fruitless persistence. He repictured the scene that +his eye had so swiftly and so carelessly recorded; he saw again the +dark shed, the dumb group of figures idling beneath it, the open door +and the flood of yellow light behind. But when he strove to recall a +single face or form, or even the precise number of persons, he was at a +loss. Nothing stood out distinctly but the bearded face of Larubio, the +silhouette of a man in a gleaming rubber coat, and, a moment later, a +slim stripling boy crouched in the shadows near the corner. + +As the party turned into Girod Street he saw by the first streaks of +dawn that the curious had already begun to assemble. A dozen or more +men were morbidly examining the scene, re-enacting the assassination +and tracing the course of bullets by the holes in wall and fence--no +difficult matter, since the ground where Donnelly had given battle had +been swept by a fusillade. + +Larubio's shop was dark. + +The officers tried the door quietly, then at a signal from Norvin they +rushed it. The next instant the three men found themselves in an +evil-smelling room furnished with a bench, some broken chairs, a litter +of tools and shoes and leather findings. It was untenanted, but, seeing +another door ahead of him, Blake stumbled toward it over the debris. +Like the outer door, it was barred, but yielded to his shoulder. + +It was well that the policemen were close upon his heels, for they +found him locked in desperate conflict with a huge, half-naked +Sicilian, who fought with the silent wickedness of a wolf at bay. + +The chamber was squalid and odorous; a tumbled couch, from which the +occupant had leaped, showed that he had been calmly sleeping upon the +scene of his crime. Through the dim-lit filth of the place the cobbler +whirled them, struggling like a man insane. A table fell with a crash +of dishes, a stove was wrecked, a chair smashed, then he was pinned +writhing to the bed from which he had just arisen. + +"Close the front door--quick!" Norvin panted. "Keep out the crowd!" + +One of the policemen dashed to the front of the hovel barely in time to +bar the way. + +Larubio, as he crouched there in the half-light, manacled but defiant, +made a striking figure. He was a patriarchal man. His hairy, naked +chest rose and fell as he fought for his breath, a thick beard grew +high upon his cheeks, lending dignity to his fierce aquiline features, +a tangled mass of iron-gray hair hung low above his eyes. He looked +more like an Arab sheik than a beggarly Sicilian shoemaker. + +"Why are you here?" he questioned, in a deep voice. + +Blake answered him in his own language: + +"You killed the Chief of Police." + +"No. I had no part--" + +"Don't lie!" + +"As God is my judge, I am innocent. I heard the shooting; I looked out +into the night and saw men running about. I was frightened, so I went +to bed. That is all." + +Norvin undertook to stare him down. + +"You will hang for this, Larubio," he said. + +The fierce gray eyes met his unflinchingly. + +"You had a hand in the killing, for I saw you. But you acted against +your will. Am I right?" + +Still the patriarch flung back his glance defiantly. + +"You were ordered to kill and you dared not disobey. Where is Belisario +Cardi?" + +The old man started. Into his eyes for the briefest instant there +leaped a look of terror, then it was gone. + +"I do not know what you are talking about," he answered. + +"Come! The man with the rubber coat has confessed." + +Larubio's gaze roved uncertainly about the squalid quarters; but he +shook his head, mumbling: + +"God will protect the innocent. I know nothing, your Excellency." + +They dragged him, still protesting, from his den as dogs drag an animal +from its burrow. But Norvin had learned something. That momentary +wavering glance, that flitting light of doubt and fear, had told him +that to the cobbler the name of Cardi meant something real and terrible. + +Back at headquarters O'Neil had further information for him. + +"We've got Larubio's brother-in-law, Caspardo Cressi. It was his son, +no doubt, whom you saw waiting at the corner." + +"Have you found the boy?" + +"No, he's gone." + +"Then make haste before they have time to spirit him away. These men +won't talk, but we might squeeze something out of the boy. He's the +weakest link in the chain, so you _must_ find him." + +The morning papers were on the street when Norvin went home. New +Orleans had awakened to the outrage against her good name. Men were +grouped upon corners, women were gossiping from house to house, the air +was surcharged with a great excitement. It was as if a public enemy had +been discovered at the gates, as if an alien foe had struck while the +city slept. That unformed foreign prejudice which had been slowly +growing had crystallized in a single night. + +To Norvin the popular clamor, which rose high during the next few days, +had a sickening familiarity. At the time of Martel Savigno's murder he +had looked upon justice as a thing inevitable, he had felt that the +public wrath, once aroused, was an irresistible force; yet he had seen +how ineffectually such a force could spend itself. And the New Orleans +police seemed likely to accomplish little more than the Italian +soldiers. Although more than a hundred arrests were made, it was +doubtful if, with the exception of Larubio and Cressi, any of the real +culprits had been caught. He turned the matter over in his mind +incessantly, consulted with O'Neil as to ways and means, conferred with +the Mayor, sounded his friends. Then one morning he awoke to find +himself at the head of a Committee of Justice, composed of fifty +leading business men of the city, armed with powers somewhat vaguely +defined, but in reality extremely wide. He set himself diligently to +his task. + +There followed through the newspapers an appeal to the Italian +population for assistance, and offers of tremendous rewards. This +resulted in a flood of letters, some signed, but mostly anonymous, a +multitude of shadowy clues, of wild accusations. But no sooner was a +promising trail uncovered than the witness disappeared or became +inspired with a terror which sealed his lips. It began to appear that +there was really no evidence to be had beyond what Norvin's eyes had +photographed. And this, he knew, was not enough to convict even Larubio +and his brother-in-law. + +While thus baffled and groping for the faintest clue, he received a +letter which brought him at least a ray of sunshine. He had opened +perhaps half of his morning's mail one day when he came upon a truly +remarkable missive. It was headed with an amateurish drawing or a +skull; at the bottom of the sheet was a dagger, and over all, in bright +red, was the life-size imprint of a small, plump hand. + +In round, school-girl characters he read as follows: + +"Beware! You are a traitor and a deserter, therefore you are doomed. +Escape is impossible unless you heed this warning. Meet me at the old +house on St. Charles Street, and bring your ransom. + "THE AVENGER." + +At the lower left-hand corner, in microscopic characters, was written: + + "I love chocolate nougat best." + +Norvin laughed as he re-read this sanguinary epistle, for he had to +admit that it had given him a slight start. Being a man of action, he +walked to the telephone and called a number which had long since become +familiar. + +"Is this the Creole Candy Kitchen? Send ten pounds of your best +chocolate nougat to Miss Myra Nell Warren at once. This is Blake +speaking. Wait! I have enough on my conscience without adding another +sin. Perhaps you'd better make it five pounds now and five pounds a +week hereafter. Put it in your fanciest basket, with lots of blue +ribbon, and label it 'Ransom!'" + +Next he called the girl himself, and after an interminable wait heard a +breathless voice say: + +"Hello, Norvin! I've been out in the kitchen making cake, so I couldn't +get away. It's in the oven now, cooking like mad." + +"I've just received a threatening letter," he told her. + +"Who in the world could have sent it?" + +"Evidently some blackmailing wretch. It demands a ransom." + +"Heavens! You won't be cowardly enough to yield?" + +"Certainly. I daren't refuse." + +He heard her laughing softly. "Why don't you tell the police?" + +"Indeed! There's an army of men besieging the place now." + +"Then you must expect to catch the writer?" + +"I've been trying to for a long time." + +"I'm sure I don't know what you are talking about," she said, +innocently. + +"Could I have sent the ransom to the wrong address?" + +He pretended to be seized with doubt, whereupon Myra Nell exclaimed, +quickly: + +"Oh, not necessarily." Then, after a pause, "Norvin, how does a person +get red ink off of her hands?" + +"Use a cotton broker. Let him hold it this evening." + +"I'd love to, but Bernie wouldn't allow it. It was his ink, you know, +and I spilled it all over his desk. Norvin--is it really nougat?" + +"It is, the most unhealthy, the most indigestible--" + +"You _duck_! You _may_ hold my gory hand for--Wait!" Blake heard a +faint shriek. "Don't ring off. Something terrible--" Then the wire was +dead. + +"Hello! Hello!" he called. "What's wrong, Myra Nell?" He rattled the +receiver violently, and getting no response, applied to Central. After +some moments he heard her explaining in a relieved tone: + +"Oh, _such_ a fright as I had." + +"What was it? For Heaven's--" + +"The cake!" + +"You frightened me. I thought--" + +"It's four stories high and pasted together with caramel." + +"You should never leave a 'phone in that way without--" + +"Bernie detests caramel; but I'm expecting a 'certain party' to call on +me to-night. Norvin, do you think red ink would hurt a cake?" + +"Myra Nell," he said, severely, "didn't you wash your hands before +mixing that dough?" + +"Of course." + +"I have my doubts. Will you really be at liberty this evening?" + +"That depends entirely upon you. If I am, I shall exact another +ransom--flowers, perhaps." + +"I'll send them anyhow, Marechal Neils." + +"Oh, you are a--Wait!" + +For a second time Miss Warren broke off; but now Norvin heard her cry +out gladly to some one. He held the receiver patiently until his arm +cramped, then rang up again. + +"Oh, I forgot all about you, Norvin dear," she chattered. "Vittoria has +just come, so I can't talk to you any more. Won't you run out and meet +her? I know she's just dying to--She says she isn't, either! Oh, +fiddlesticks! You're not so busy as all that. Very well, we'll probably +eat the cake ourselves. Good-by!" + +"Good-by, Avenger," he laughed. + +As he turned away smiling he found Bernie Dreux comfortably ensconced +in an office chair and regarding him benignly. + +"Hello, Bernie! I didn't hear you come in." + +"Wasn't that Myra Nell talking?" inquired the little man. + +"Yes." + +"You called her 'Avenger.' What has she been up to now?" + +Blake handed him the red-hand letter. To his surprise Bernie burst out +angrily: + +"How dare she?" + +"What?" + +"It's most unladylike--begging a gentleman for gifts. I'll see that she +apologizes." + +"If you do I'll punch your head. She couldn't do anything unladylike if +she tried." + +"I don't approve--" + +"Nonsense!" + +"I'll see that she gets her chocolates." + +"Oh, I've sent 'em--a deadly consignment--enough to destroy both of +you. And I've left a standing order for five pounds a week." + +"But that letter--it's blackmail." Bernie groaned. "She holds me up in +the same way whenever she feels like it. She's getting suspicious of me +lately, and I daren't tell her I'm a detective. The other day she set +Remus, our gardener, on my trail, and he shadowed me all over the town. +Felicite thinks there's something wrong, too, and she's taken to +following me. Between her and Remus I haven't a moment's privacy." + +"It's tough for a detective to be dogged by his gardener and his +sweetheart," Norvin sympathized. He began to run through his mail, +while his visitor talked on in his amusing, irrelevant fashion. + +"I'm rather offended that I wasn't named on that Committee of Fifty," +Bernie confessed, after a time. "You know how the Chief relied on me?" + +"Exactly." + +"Well, I'm full of Italian mysteries now. What I haven't discovered by +my own investigations, Vittoria Fabrizi has told me. For instance, I +know what became of the boy Gino Cressi." + +"You do?" Blake looked up curiously from a letter he had been eagerly +perusing. + +"He's in Mobile." + +"Are you sure?" + +"Certainly." + +"I think you're wrong." + +"Why am I wrong?" + +"Read this. My mail is full of anonymous communications." He passed +over the letter in his hand, and Mr. Dreux read as follows: + +NORVIN BLAKE, + + NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA. + +The Cressi boy is hidden at 93 1/2 St. Phillip Street. Go personally +and in secret, for there are spies among the police. + + ONE WHO KNOWS. + +"Good Lord! Do you believe it?" + +"I shall know in an hour." In reality Norvin had no doubt that his +informant told the truth. On the contrary, he found that he had been +waiting subconsciously for a hint from this mysterious but reliable +source, and now that it had come he felt confident and elated. "A leak +in the department would explain the maddening series of checkmates up +to date." After a moment's hesitation he continued: "If Gino Cressi +proves to be the boy I saw that night, we will put the rope around his +father's and his uncle's necks, for he is little more than a child, and +they evidently knew he would confess if accused; otherwise they +wouldn't have been so careful to hide him." He rose and, eying Dreux +intently, inquired, "Will you go along and help me take him?" + +Bernie fell into a sudden panic of excitement. His face paled, he +blinked with incredible rapidity, his lips twitched, and he clasped his +thin, bloodless hands nervously. + +"Why--are you--really--going--and alone?" + +Norvin nodded. "If they have spies among our own men the least +indiscretion may give the alarm. Besides, there is no time to lose; it +would be madness to go there after dark. Will you come?" + +"You--b-b-bet," Mr. Dreux stuttered. After a painful effort to control +himself he inquired, with rolling eyes, "S-say, Norvin, will there be +any fighting--any d-d-danger?" + +Blake's own imagination had already presented that aspect of the matter +all too vividly. + +"Yes, there may be danger," he confessed. "We may have to take the boy +by force." His nerves began to dance and quiver, as always before every +new adventure. + +"Perhaps, after all, you'd better not go. I--understand how you feel." + +The little man burst out in a forceful expletive. + +"_Pudding!_ I _want_ to fight. D-don't you see?" + +"No. I don't." + +"I've never been in a row. I've never done anything brave or desperate, +like--like you. I'm aching for trouble. I go looking for it every +night." + +"Really!" Blake looked his incredulity. + +"Sure thing! Last night I insulted a perfectly nice gentleman just to +provoke a quarrel. I'd never seen him before, and ordinarily I hesitate +to accost strangers; but I felt as if I'd have hysterics if I couldn't +lick somebody; so I walked up to this person and told him his necktie +was in rotten taste." + +"What did he say?" + +"He offered to go home and change it. I was so chagrined that I--cursed +him fearfully." + +"Bernie!" + +Dreux nodded with an expression of the keenest satisfaction. "I could +have cried. I called him a worm, a bug, a boll-weevil; but he said he +had a family and didn't intend to be shot up by some well-dressed +desperado." + +"I suppose it's the blood of your ancestors." + +"I suppose it is. Now let's go get this dago boy. I'm loaded for +grizzlies, and if the Mafia cuts in I'll croak somebody." He drew a +huge rusty military revolver from somewhere inside his clothes and +flourished it so recklessly that his companion recoiled. + +Together the two set out for St. Phillip Street. Blake, whose +reputation for bravery had become proverbial, went reluctantly, preyed +upon by misgivings; Dreux, the decadent, overbred dandy, went gladly, +as if thirsting for the fray. + + + + +XIV + +THE NET TIGHTENS + + + +Number 93 1/2 St. Phillip Street proved to be a hovel, in the front +portion of which an old woman sold charcoal and kindling. Leaving +Bernie on guard, Blake penetrated swiftly to the rooms behind, paying +no heed to the crone's protestations. In one corner a slender, +dark-eyed boy was cowering, whom he recognized at once as the lad he +had seen on the night of Donnelly's death. + +"You are Gino Cressi," he said, quietly. + +The boy shook his head. + +"Oh, yes, you are, and you must come with me, Gino." + +The little fellow recoiled. "You have come to kill me," he quavered. + +"No, no, my little man. Why should I wish to do that?" + +"I am a Sicilian; you hate me." + +"That is not true. We hate only bad Sicilians, and you are a good boy." + +"I did not kill the Chief." + +"True. You did not even know that those other men intended to kill him. +You were merely told to wait at the corner until you saw him come home. +Am I right?" + +"I do not know anything about the Chief," Gino mumbled. + +But it was plain that some of his fear was vanishing under this +unexpected kindness. Blake had a voice which won dumb animals, and a +smile which made friends of children. At last the young Sicilian came +forward and put his hand into the stranger's. + +"They told me to hide or the Americans would kill me. Madonna mia! I am +no Mafioso! I--I wish to see my father." + +"I will take you to him now." + +"You will not harm me?" + +"No. You are perfectly safe." + +But the boy still hung back, stammering: + +"I--am afraid, Si'or. After all, you see, I know nothing. Perhaps I had +better wait here." + +"But you will come, to please me, will you not? Then when you find that +the policemen will not hurt you, you will tell us all about it, eh, +carino?" + +He led his shrinking captive out through the front of the house, whence +the crone had fled to spread the alarm, and lifted him into the waiting +cab. But Bernie Dreux was loath to acknowledge such a tame conclusion +to an adventure upon which he had built high hopes. + +"L-let's stick round," he shivered. "It's just getting g-g-good." + +"Come on, you idiot." Blake fairly dragged him in and commanded the +driver to whip up. "That old woman will rouse the neighborhood, and +we'll have a mob heaving bricks at us in another minute." + +"That'll be fine!" Dreux declared, his pride revolting at what he +considered a cowardly retreat. He had come along in the hope of doing +deeds that would add luster to his name, and he did not intend to be +disappointed. It required a vigorous muscular effort to keep him from +clambering out of the carriage. + +"I don't understand you at all," said Norvin, with one hand firmly +gripping his coat collar, "but I understand the value of discretion at +this moment, and I don't intend to take any chances on losing our +little friend Gino before he has turned State's evidence." + +Dreux sank back, gloomily enough, continuing for the rest of the +journey to declaim against the fate that had condemned him to a life of +insipid peace; but it was not until they had turned out of the narrow +streets of the foreign quarter into the wide, clean stretch of Canal +Street that Blake felt secure. + +Little Gino Cressi was badly frightened. His wan, pinched face was +ashen and he shivered wretchedly. Yet he strove to play the man, and +his pitiful attempt at self-control roused something tender and +protective in his captor. Laying a reassuring hand upon his shoulder, +Blake said, gently: + +"Coraggio! No harm shall befall you." + +"I--do not wish to die, Excellency." + +"You will not die. Speak the truth, figlio mio, and the police will be +very kind to you. I promise." + +"I know nothing," quavered the child. "My father is a good man. They +told me the Chief was dead, but I did not kill him. I only hid." + +"Who told you the Chief was dead?" + +"I--do not remember." + +"Who told you to hide?" + +"I do not remember, Si'or." Gino's eyes were like those of a hunted +deer, and he trembled as if dreadfully cold. + +It was a wretched, stricken child whom Blake led into O'Neil's office, +and for a long time young Cressi's lips were glued; but eventually he +yielded to the kind-faced men who were so patient with him and his +lies, and told them all he knew. + +On the following morning the papers announced three new arrests in the +Donnelly case, resulting from a confession by Gino Cressi. On the +afternoon of the same day the friendly and influential Caesar Maruffi +called upon Blake with a protest. + +"Signore, my friend," he began, "you and your Committee are doing a +great injustice to the Italians of this city." + +"How so?" + +"Already everybody hates us. We cannot walk upon your streets without +insult. Men curse us, children spit at us. We are not Jews; we are +Italians. There are bad people among my countrymen, of course, but, +Signore, look upon me. Do you think such men as I--" + +"Oh, you stand for all that is best in your community. Mr. Maruffi. I +only wish you'd help us clean house." + +The Sicilian shrugged. "Help? How can I help?" + +"Tell what you know of the Mafia so that we can destroy it. At every +turn we are thwarted by the secrecy of your people." + +"They know what is good for them. As for me, my flesh will not turn the +point of a knife, Signore. Life is an enjoyable affair, and if I die I +can never marry. What would you have me tell?" + +"The name of the Capo-Mafia, for instance." + +"You think there is a Capo-Mafia?" + +"I know it. What's more, I know who he is." + +"Belisario Cardi? Bah! Few people believe there is such a man." + +"You and I believe it." + +"Perhaps. But what if I could lay hands upon him? Think you that I, or +any Sicilian, would dare? All the police of this city could never take +Belisario Cardi. It is to make laugh! Our friend Donnelly was unwise, +he was too zealous. Now--he is but a memory. He took a life, his life +was taken in return. This affair will mean more deaths. Leave things as +they are, my friend, before you too are mourned." + +Norvin eyed his caller curiously. + +"That sounds almost as much like a threat as a warning." + +"God forbid! I simply state the truth for your own good and for the +good of all of us. Wherever Sicilians are found there your laws will be +ignored. For my own part, naturally, I do not approve--I am an American +now--but the truth is what I tell you." + +"In other words, you think we ought to leave your countrymen alone?" + +"Ah, I do not go so far. The laws should be enforced, that is certain. +But in trying to do what is impossible you stir up race hatred and make +it hard for us reputable Sicilians, who would help you so far as lies +in our power. You cannot stamp out the Mafia in a day, in a week; it is +Sicilian character. Already you have done enough to vindicate the law. +If you go on in a mad attempt to catch this Cardi--whose existence, +even, is doubtful--the consequences may be in every way bad." + +"We have five of the murderers now, and we'll have the other man +soon--the fellow with the rubber coat. The grand jury will indict them. +But we won't stop there. We're on a trail that leads higher up, to the +man, or men, who directed Larubio and the others to do their work." + +Maruffi shook his head mournfully. "And the Cressi boy--it was you who +found him?" + +"It was." + +"How did you do it?" + +Norvin laughed. "If you'd only enlist in the cause I'd tell you all my +secrets gladly." + +"Eh! Then he was betrayed!" + +For the life of him Norvin could not tell whether the man was pleased +or chagrined at his secrecy, but something told him that the Sicilian +was feeling him out for a purpose. He smiled without answering. + +"Betrayed!" said Maruffi. "Ah, well, I should not like to be in the +shoes of the betrayer." He seemed to lose himself in thought for a +moment. "Believe me, I would help you if I could, but I know nothing, +and besides it is dangerous. I am a good citizen, but I am not a +detective. You American-born," he smiled, "assume that all we Sicilians +are deep in the secrets of the Mafia. So the people in the street +insult us, and you in authority think that if we would only tell--bah! +Tell what? We know no more than you, and it is less safe for us to +aid." He rose and extended his hand. "Of course, if I learn anything I +will inform you; but there are times when it is best to let sleeping +dogs lie." + +Norvin closed the door behind him with a feeling of relief, for he was +puzzled as to the object of this visit and wanted time to think it out +undisturbed. The upshot of his reflection was that Donnelly had been +right and that Caesar was indeed the author of the warning letters. As +to his want of knowledge, the Sicilian protested rather like a man who +plays a part openly. On the other hand, his fears for his own safety +seemed genuine enough. What more natural, then, than that he should +"wish to test Donnelly's successor with the utmost care before +proceeding with his disclosures?" Blake was glad that he had been +secretive, for if Maruffi were the unknown friend he would find such +caution reassuring. + +As if to confirm this view of the case, there came, a day or two later, +another communication, stating that the assassin who was still at large +(he, in fact, who had worn the rubber coat) was a laborer in the parish +of St. John the Baptist, named Frank Normando. The letter went on to +say that in escaping from the scene of the crime the man had fallen on +the slippery pavement, and the traces of his injury might still be +found upon his body. + +Norvin lost no time in consulting O'Neil. + +"Jove! You're the best detective we have," said the Acting Chief, +admiringly. "I'd do well to turn this affair over to you entirely." + +"Have you learned anything more from your prisoners?" + + "Nothing. They refuse to talk. We're giving them the third degree; +but it's no use. There was another murder on St. Phillip Street last +night. The old woman who guarded the Cressi boy was found dead." + +"Then they think she betrayed the lad?" Norvin recalled Maruffi's hint +that it would go hard with the traitor. + +"Yes; we might have expected it. How many men will you need to take +this Normando?" + +"I? You--think I'd better do the trick?" Blake had not intended to take +any active part in the capture. He was already known as the head of the +movement to avenge Donnelly; he had apprehended Larubio and the Cressi +boy with his own hand. Inner voices warned him wildly to run no further +risks. + +"I thought you'd prefer to lead the raid," O'Neil said. + +"So I would. Give me two or three men and we'll bring in Normando, dead +or alive." + +Six hours later the last of Donnelly's actual assassins was in the +parish prison and the police were in possession of evidence showing his +movements from early morning on the day of the murder up to the hour of +the crime. His identification was even more complete than that of his +accomplices, and the public press thanked Norvin Blake in the name of +the city for his efficient service. + +The anonymous letters continued to come to him regularly, and each one +contained some important clue, which, followed up, invariably led to +evidence of value. Slowly, surely, out of nothing as it were, the chain +was forged. Now came the names of persons who had seen or had talked +with some of the accused upon the fatal day, now a hint which turned +light upon some dark spot in their records. Again the letters aided in +the discovery of important witnesses, who, under pressure, confessed to +facts which they had feared to make public--until at last the history +of the six assassins lay exposed like an open sheet before the +prosecuting attorney. + +The certainty and directness with which the "One Who Knows" worked was +a matter of ever-increasing amazement to Blake. He himself was little +more than an instrument in these unseen hands. Who or what could the +writer be? By what means could he remain in such intimate touch with +the workings of the Mafia, and what reason impelled him to betray its +members? Hour after hour the young man speculated, racking his head +until it ached. He considered every possibility, he began to look with +curiosity at every face. At length he came to feel an even greater +interest in the identity of this hidden friend than in the result of +the struggle itself. But investigations--no matter how +cautious--invariably resulted in a prompt and imperative warning to +desist upon pain of ruining everything. + +Gradually in his mind the conviction assumed certainty that the +omniscient informer could be none other than Caesar Maruffi. He +frequented the Red Wing Club as Donnelly had done, and the more he saw +of the fellow the more firm became his belief. He had recognized at +their first meeting that Caesar was unusual--there was something +unfathomable about him--but precisely what this peculiarity was he +could never quite determine. + +As for Maruffi, he met Norvin's advances half-way; but although he was +apparently more than once upon the verge of some disclosure, the terror +of the brotherhood seemed always to intervene. Feeling that he could +not openly voice his suspicions until the other was ready to show his +hand, Blake kept a close mouth, and thus the two played at +cross-purposes. Maruffi--if he were indeed the author of those +letters--had not shrunk from betraying the unthinking instruments of +the Mafia. Would he ever bring himself to implicate the man, or men, +higher up? Blake doubted it. A certain instinctive distrust of the +Sicilian was beginning to master him when a letter came which put a +wholly different face upon the matter. + +"The men who really killed Chief Donnelly," it read, "are Salvatore di +Marco, Frank Garcia, Giordano Bolla, and Lorenzo Cardoni." Blake +gasped; these were men of standing and repute in the foreign community. +"Larubio and his companions were but parts of the machine; these are +the hands which set them in motion. These four men dined together on +the evening of October 15th, at Fabacher's, then attended a theater +where they made themselves conspicuous. From there they proceeded to +the lower section of the city and were purposely arrested for +disturbing the peace about the time of Donnelly's murder, in order to +establish incontestable alibis. Nevertheless, it was they who laid the +trap, and they are equally guilty with the wretches who obeyed their +orders. It was they who paid over the blood money, and with their +arrest you will have all the accessories to the crime, save one. Of him +I can tell you nothing. I fear I can never find him, for he walks in +shadow and no man dares identify him." + +The importance of this information was tremendous, for arrests up to +date had been made only among the lower element. An accusation against +Di Marco, Garcia, Bolla, and Cardoni would set the city ablaze. O'Neil +was aghast at the charge. The Mayor was incredulous, the Committee of +Fifty showed signs of hesitation. But Blake, staking his reputation on +the genuineness of the letter, and urging the reliability of the writer +as shown on each occasion in the past, won his point, and the arrests +were made. + +The Italian press raised a frightful clamor, the prisoners themselves +were righteously indignant, and Norvin found that he had begun to lose +that confidence which the public had been so quick to place in him. +Nevertheless, he pursued his work systematically, and soon the +mysterious agent proceeded to weave a new web around the four suspected +men, while he looked on fascinated, doing as he was bid, keeping his +own counsel as he had been advised, and turning over the results of his +inquiries to the police as they were completed. + +Then came what he had long been dreading--a warning like those which +had foreshadowed Donnelly's death--and he began to spend sleepless +nights. His daylight hours were passed in a strained expectancy; he +fought constantly to hold his fears in check; he began sitting with his +face to doors; he turned wide corners and avoided side streets. He +became furtive and watchful; his eyes were forever flitting here and +there; he chose the outer edges of the sidewalks, and he went nowhere +after nightfall unattended. The time was past when he could doubt the +constancy of his purpose; but he did fear a nervous breakdown, and even +shuddered at the thought of possible insanity. Being in fact as sane a +man as ever lived, his irrational nerves alarmed him all the more. He +could not conceive that an event was immediately before him which, +without making his position safer, would rouse him from all thought of +self. + +Our lives are swayed by trifles; a feather's weight may alter the +course of our destinies. A man's daily existence is made up of an +infinite series of choices, every one of which is of the utmost +importance, did he but know it. We follow paths of a million forkings, +none of which converge. A momentary whim, a passing fancy, a broken +promise, turns our feet into trails that wind into realms undreamed of. + +It so happened that Myra Nell Warren yielded to an utterly reasonless +impulse to go calling at the utterly absurd hour of 10 A.M. Miss Warren +followed no set rules in her conduct, her mind reacted according to no +given formula, and, therefore, when it suddenly occurred to her to +visit a little old creole lady in the French quarter, she went without +thoughtful consideration or delay. + +Madame la Branche was a distant cousin on Bernie's side--so distant, in +fact, that no one except herself had ever troubled to trace the precise +relationship; but she employed a cook whose skill was celebrated. Now +Myra Nell's appetite was a most ungovernable affair, and when she +realized that her complete happiness depended upon a certain +bouillabaisse, in the preparation of which Madame la Branche's Julia +had become famous, she whisked her hair into a knot, jammed her best +and largest hat over its unruly confusion, and went bouncing away in +the direction of Esplanade Street. + +It was in the early afternoon that Norvin Blake received a note from a +coal-black urchin, who, after many attempts, had finally succeeded in +penetrating to his inner office. + +Recognizing the writing, Norvin tore open the envelope eagerly, ready +to be entertained by some fresh example of the girl's infinite variety. +He read with startled eyes: + +"I send this by a trusted messenger, hoping that it will reach you in +time. I am a prisoner. I am in danger. I fear my beauty is destroyed. +If you love me, come. + "Your wretched + + "MYRA NELL." + +The address was that of a house on Esplanade Street. + +"How did you get this?" he demanded, harshly, of the pickaninny. + +"A lady drap it from a window." + +"Where? Where was she?" + +"In a gre't big house on Esplanade Street. She seemed mighty put out +about something. Then a man run me away with a club." + +A moment later Blake was on the street and had hailed a carriage. The +driver, reading urgency in the set face of his fare, whipped the horses +into a gallop and the vehicle tore across town, leaping and rocking +violently. The thought that Myra Nell was in danger filled Blake with a +physical sickness. Her beauty gone! Could it be that the Mafia had +taken this means of attacking him, knowing of his affection for the +girl? Of a sudden she became very dear, and he was smothered with fury +that any one should cause her suffering. + +His heart was pounding madly as the carriage slowed into Esplanade +Street, threatening to upset, and he saw ahead of him the house he +sought. With a sharp twinge of apprehension he sighted another man +approaching the place at a run, and leaping from his conveyance, he +raced on with frantic speed. + + + + +XV + +THE END OF THE QUEST + + + +Evidently the alarm had spread, for there were others ahead of Blake. +Several men were grouped beneath an open window. They were strangely +excited; some were panting as if from violent exertion; a young French +Creole, Lecompte Rilleau, was sprawled at full length upon the grassy +banquette, either badly injured or entirely out of breath. He raised a +listless hand to the newcomer, as if waving him to the attack. Norvin +recognized them all as admirers of Myra Nell--cotton brokers, +merchants, a bank cashier--a great relief surged over him. + +"Thank God! You're here--in time," he gasped. "What's happened to--her?" + +Raymond Cline started to speak, but just then Blake heard the girl +herself calling to him, and saw her leaning from a window, her piquant +beauty framed with blushing roses which hung about the sill. + +"Myra Nell! You're safe!" he cried, shakingly. "What have they done to +you?" + +She smiled piteously and shook her dark head. + +"You were good to come. I am a prisoner." + +"A prisoner!" Norvin stared at the young men about him. "Come on," he +said, "let's get her out!" + +But Murray Logan quieted him. "It's no use, old man." + +"What d'you mean?" + +"You can't go in." + +"Can't--go--in?" As Blake stared uncomprehendingly at the speaker he +heard rapid footsteps approaching and saw Achille Marigny coming on the +wings of the wind. It was he who appeared in the distance as Norvin +rounded the corner, and it was plain now that he was well-nigh spent. + +Rilleau reared himself on one elbow and cried with difficulty: + +"Welcome, Achille." + +"Take it easy, Marigny," called Cline; "we've saved her." + +Some one laughed, and the suspicion that he had been hoaxed swept over +Blake. + +"What's the joke?" he demanded. "I was frightened to death." + +"The house is quarantined." + +"I never dreamed you'd _all_ come," Miss Warren was saying, sweetly. +"It was very gallant, and I shall _never_ forget it--never." + +"She says her--beauty is--gone," wildly panted Marigny, who had run +himself blind and as yet could hear nothing but the drumming in his +ears. + +"Judge for yourself." Cline steadied him against the low iron fence and +pointed to the girl's bewitching face embowered in the leafy window +above. + +From where he lay flat on his back, idly flapping his hands, Rilleau +complained: "I have a weak heart. Will somebody get me a drink?" + +"It was _splendid_ of you," Myra Nell called down to the group. "I love +you for it. Please get me out, right away." + +Norvin now perceived a burly individual seated upon the steps of the La +Branche mansion. He approached with a view to parleying, but the man +forestalled him" saying warningly: + +"You can't go in. They've got smallpox in there." + +"Smallpox!" + +"Go away from that door!" screamed Myra Nell; but the fellow merely +scowled. + +"I hate to offend the lady," he explained to Norvin, in a hoarse +whisper; "but I can't let her out." + +Miss Warren repeated in a fury: + +"Go away, I tell you. These are friends of mine. If you were a +gentleman you'd know you're not wanted. Norvin, make him skedaddle." + +Blake shook his head. "You've scared us all blue. If you're quarantined +I don't see what we can do." + +"The idea! You can at least come in." + +"If you go in, you can't come out," belligerently declared the +watchman. "Them's orders." + +"_Oh-h!_ You monster!" cried his prisoner. + +"She says herself she's got it," the man explained. + +"I never did!" Myra Nell wrung her hands. "Will you stand there and let +me perish? Do you refuse to save me?" + +"Where is Madame la Branche?" Norvin asked. + +"Asleep. And Cousin Montegut is playing solitaire in the library." + +"Then who has the smallpox?" + +"The cook! They took her screaming to the pest-house an hour after I +came. I shall be the next victim; I feel it. We're shut up here for a +_week_, maybe longer. Think of that! There's nothing to do, nobody to +talk to, nothing to look at. We need another hand for whist. I--I +supposed somebody would volunteer." + +"I'd love to," Rilleau called, faintly, from the curb, "but I wouldn't +survive a week. My heart is beating its last, and besides--I don't play +whist." + +Mr. Cline called the attention of his companions to two figures which +had appeared in the distance, and began to chant: + + "The animals came in two by two, + The elephant and the kangaroo," + +"Gentlemen, here come the porpoise and the antelope. We are now +complete." + +The new arrivals proved to be Bernie Dreux and August Kulm, the latter +a fat Teutonic merchant whose place of business was down near the +river. Mr. Kulm had evidently run all the way, for he was laboring +heavily and his gait had long since slackened into a stumbling trot. +His eyes were rolling wildly; his fresh young cheeks were purple and +sheathed in perspiration. + +Miss Warren exclaimed, crossly: + +"Oh, dear! I didn't send for Bernie. I'll bet he's furious." + +And so it proved. When her half-brother's horrified alarm had been +dispelled by the noisy group of rescuers it was replaced by the +blackest indignation. He thanked them stiffly and undertook to +apologize for his sister, in the midst of which Rilleau, who had now +managed to regain his feet, suggested the formation of "The Myra Nell +Contagion Club." + +"Its object shall be the alleviation of our lady's distress, and its +membership shall be limited to her rejected suitors," he declared. +"We'll take turns amusing her. I'll appoint myself chairman of the +entertainment committee and one of us will always be on guard. We'll +sing, we'll dance, we'll cavort beneath the window, and help to while +the dreary hours away." + +His suggestion was noisily accepted, then after an exchange of views +Murray Logan confessed that he had bolted a directors' meeting, and +that ruin stared him in the face unless he returned immediately. +Achille Marigny, it appeared, had unceremoniously fled from the trial +of an important lawsuit, and Raymond Cline was needed at the bank. +Foote, Delavan, and the others admitted that they, too, must leave Miss +Warren to her fate, at least until after 'Change had closed. And so, +having put themselves at her service with extravagant protestations of +loyalty, promising candy, books, flowers, a choir to sing beneath her +window, they finally trooped off, half carrying the rotund Mr. Kulm, +who had sprinted himself into a jelly-like state of collapse. + +Rilleau alone maintained his readiness to brave the perils of smallpox, +leprosy, or plague at Miss Warren's side, until Bernie informed him +that the very idea was shocking, whereupon he dragged himself away with +the accusation that all his heart trouble lay at her door. + +"Oh, you spoiled it all!" Myra Nell told her brother, indignantly. "You +might at least have let _him_ come in. Cousin Althea would have +chaperoned us." + +"The idea! Why _did_ you do such an atrocious thing?" + +"Where you frightened, Norvin?" The girl beamed hopefully down upon him. + +"Horribly. I'm not over it yet. I'm half inclined to act on Lecompte's +suggestion and break in." + +She clapped her hands gleefully, whereupon the watchman arose, saying: + +"No you don't!" + +"I wouldn't allow such a thing," said Bernie, firmly. "It would mean a +scandal." + +"I--I can't stay here _alone_, for a whole _week_. I'll die." + +"Then I'll join you myself," her brother offered. + +Myra Nell looked alarmed. "Oh, not _you_! I want some one to nurse me +when I fall ill." + +"What makes you think you'll catch it? Were you exposed?" + +"Exposed! Heavens! I can feel the disease coming on this very minute. +The place is full of germs; I can spear 'em with a hat-pin." She +shuddered and managed to counterfeit a tear. + +"I've an idea," said Norvin. "I'll get that trained nurse who saved you +when you fell off the horse." + +"Vittoria? She might do. But, Norvin, the horse threw me." She warned +him with a grimace which Bernie did not see. "He's a frightful beast." + +"I can't afford a trained nurse," Dreux objected, "and you don't need +one, anyhow." + +"All right for you, Bernie; if you don't care any more for my life than +that, I'll sicken and die. When a girl's relatives turn against her +it's time she was out of the way." + +"Oh, all right," said her brother, angrily. "It's ruinous, but I +suppose you must have it your way." + +Myra Nell shook her head gloomily. "No--not if you are going to feel +like that. Of course, if she were here she could cut off my hair when I +take to my bed; she could bathe my face with lime-water when my beauty +goes; she could listen to my ravings and understand, for she is +a--woman. But no, I'm not worth it. Perhaps I can get along all right, +and, anyhow, I'll have to teach school or--or be a nun if I'm all +pock-marks." + +"Good Lord!" Bernie wiped his brow with a trembling hand. "D'you think +that'll happen, Norvin?" + +"It's bound to," the girl predicted, indifferently. "But what's the +odds?" Suddenly a new thought dilated her eyes with real horror. "Oh!" +she cried. "_Oh!_ I just happened to remember. I'm to be Queen of the +Carnival! Now, I'll be scarred and hideous, even if I happen to +recover; but I won't recover. You shall have my royal robe, Bunny. Keep +it always. And Norvin shall have my hair." + +"Here! I--don't want your hair," Blake asserted, nervously. "I mean not +without--" + +"It is all I have to give." + +"You may not catch the smallpox, after all." + +"We'll--have Miss Fabrizi b-by all means," Bernie chattered. + +"You stay here and talk to her while I go," Norvin suggested, quickly. +"And, Myra Nell, I'll fetch you a lot of chocolates. I'll fetch you +anything, if you'll only cheer up." + +"Remember, It's against my wishes," the girl said. "But she's not at +the hospital now; she's living in the Italian quarter." She gave him +the street, and number, and he made off in all haste. + +On his way he had time to think more collectedly of the girl he had +just left. Her prank had shocked him into a keen realization of his +feeling for her, and he began to understand the large part she played +in his life. Many things inclined him to believe that her regard for +him was really deeper than her careless levity indicated, and it seemed +now that they had been destined for each other. + +It was dusk when he reached his destination. A nondescript Italian girl +ushered him up a dark stairway and into an old-fashioned drawing-room +with high ceiling, and long windows which opened out upon a rusty +overhanging iron balcony. The room ran through to a court in the rear, +after the style of so many of these foreign-built houses. It had once +been the home of luxury and elegance, but had long since fallen into a +state of shabby decay. He was still lost in thoughts of the important +step which he contemplated when he heard the rustle of a woman's +garment behind him and rose as a tall figure entered the room. + +"Miss Fabrizi?" he inquired. "I came to find you--" + +He paused, for the girl had given a smothered cry. The light was poor +and the shadows played tricks with his eyes. He stepped forward, +peering strangely at her, then halted. + +"Margherita!" he whispered; then in a shaking voice, "My God!" + +"Yes," she said, quietly, "it is I." + +He touched her gently, staring as if bereft of his senses. He felt +himself swept by a tremendous excitement. It struck him dumb; it shook +him; it set the room to whirling dizzily. The place was no longer +ill-lit and shabby, but illumined as if by a burst of light. And +through his mad panic of confusion he saw her standing there, calm, +tawny, self-possessed. + +"Caro Norvin! You have found me, indeed," he heard her say. "I wondered +when the day would come." + +"You--you!" he choked. His arms were hungry for her, his heart was +melting with the wildest ecstasy that had ever possessed it. She was +clad as he often remembered her, in a dress which partook of her +favorite and inseparable color, her hair shone with that unforgettable +luster; her face was the face he had dreamed of, and there was no shock +of readjustment in his recognition of her. Rather, her real presence +made the cherished mental image seem poor and weak. + +"I came to see Miss Fabrizi. Why are _you_ here?" He glanced at the +door as if expecting an interruption. + +"I am she." + +"Contessa!" + +"Hush!" She laid her fingers upon his lips. "I am no longer the +Contessa Margherita. I am Vittoria Fabrizi." + +"Then--you have been here--in New Orleans for a long time?" + +"More than a year." + +"Impossible! I--You--It's inconceivable! Why have we never met?" + +"I have seen you many times." + +"And you didn't speak? Why, oh, why, Margherita?" + +"My friend, if you care for me, for my safety and my peace of mind, you +must not use that name. Collect yourself. We will have explanations. +But first, remember, I am Vittoria Fabrizi, the nurse, a poor girl." + +"I shall remember. I don't understand; but I shall be careful. I don't +know what it all means, why you--didn't let me know." In spite of his +effort at self-control he fell again into a delicious bewilderment. His +spirits leaped, he felt unaccountably young and exhilarated; he laughed +senselessly and yet with a deep throbbing undernote of delight. "What +are names and reasons, anyhow? What are worries and hopes and despairs? +I've found you. You live; you are safe; you are young. I feared you +were old and changed--it has seemed so long and--and my search dragged +so. But I never ceased thinking and caring--I never ceased hoping--" + +She laid a gentle hand upon his arm. "Come, come! You are upset. It +will all seem natural enough when you know the story." + +"Tell me everything, all at once. I can't wait." He led her to a low +French _lit de repos_ near by, and seated himself beside her. Her +nearness thrilled him with the old intoxication, and he hardly heeded +what he was saying. "Tell me how you came to be Vittoria Fabrizi +instead of Margherita Ginini; how you came to be here; how you knew of +my presence and yet--Oh, tell me everything, for I'm smothering. I'm +incoherent. I--I--" + +"First, won't you explain how you happened to come looking for me?" + +He gathered his wits to tell her briefly of Myra Nell, feeling a +renewed sense of strangeness in the fact that these two knew each +other. She made as if to rise. + +"Please!" he cried; "this is more important than Miss Warren's +predicament. She's really delighted with her adventure, you know." + +"True, she is in no danger. There is so much to tell! That which has +taken four years to live cannot be told in five minutes. I--I'm afraid +I am sorry you came." + +"Don't destroy my one great moment of gladness." + +"Remember I am Vittoria Fabrizi--" + +"I know of no other name." + +"Lucrezia is here, also, and she, too, is another. You have never seen +her. You understand?" + +He nodded. "And her name?" + +"Oliveta! We are cousins." + +"I respect your reasons for these changes. Tell me only what you wish." + +"Oh, I have nothing to conceal," she said, relieved at his growing +calmness. "They are old family names which I chose when I gave up my +former life. You wonder why? It is part of the story. When Martel died +the Contessa Margherita died also. She could not remain at Terranova +where everything spoke of him. She was young; she began a long quest. +As you know, it was fruitless, and when in time her ideas changed she +was born to a new life." + +"You have--abandoned the search?" + +"Long ago. You told me truly that hatred and revenge destroy the soul. +I was young and I could not understand; but now I know that only good +can survive--good thoughts, good actions, good lives." + +"And is the Donna Teresa here?" + +Vittoria shook her head. "She has gone--back, perhaps, to her land of +sunshine, her flowers, and her birds and her dream-filled mountain +valleys. It was two years ago that we lost her. She could not survive +the change. I have--many regrets when I think of her." + +"You know, of course, that I returned to Sicily, and that I followed +you?" + +"Yes. And when I learned of it I knew there was but one thing to do." + +"I was unwise--disloyal there at Terranova." She met his eyes frankly, +but made no sign. "Is that why you avoided me?" + +"Ah, let us not speak of that old time. When one severs all connections +with the past and begins a new existence, one should not look back. But +I have not lost interest in you, my friend, I have learned much from +Myra Nell; seeing her was like seeing you, for she hardly speaks of any +one else. Many times we nearly met--only a moment separated us--you +came as I went, or I came in time barely to miss you. You walked one +street as I walked another; we were in the same crowds, our elbows +touched, our paths crossed, but we never chanced to meet until this +hour. Now I am almost sorry--" + +"But why--if you have forgiven me; how could you be so indifferent? You +must have known how I longed for you." + +Her look checked him on the brink of a passionate avowal. + +"Does my profession tell you nothing?" she asked. + +"You are a--nurse. What has that to do with it?" + +"Do you know that I have been with the Sisters of Mercy? I--I am one of +them." + +"Impossible!" + +"In spirit at least. I shall be one in reality, as soon as I am better +fitted." + +"A nun!" He stared at her dumbly, and his face paled. + +"I have given all I possess to the Order excepting only what I have +settled upon Oliveta. This is her house, I am her guest, her pensioner. +I am ready to take the last step--to devote my life to mercy. Now you +begin to understand my reason for waiting and watching you in silence. +You see it is very true that Margherita Ginini no longer exists. I have +not only changed my name, I am a different woman. I am sorry," she +said, doing her best to comfort him--"yes, and it is hard for me, too. +That is why I would have avoided this meeting." + +"If you contemplate this--step," he inquired, dully, "why have you left +the hospital?" + +"I am not ready to take Orders. I have much to--overcome. Now I must +prepare Oliveta to meet you, for she has not changed as I have, and +there might be consequences." + +"What consequences?" + +"We wish to forget the past," she said, non-committally. When she +returned from her errand she saw him outlined blackly against one of +the long windows, his hands clasped behind his back, his head low as if +in meditation. He seemed unable to throw off this spell of silence as +they drove to the La Branche home, but listened contentedly to her +voice, so like the low, soft music of a cello. + +After he left her it was long before he tried to reduce his thoughts to +order. He preferred to dwell indefinitely upon the amazing fact that he +at last had found her, that he had actually seen and touched her. +Finally, when he brought himself to face the truth in its entirety, he +knew that he was deeply disappointed, and he felt that he ought to be +hopeless. Yet hope was strong in him. It blazed through his very veins, +he felt it thrill him magically. + +When he fell asleep that night it was with a smile upon his lips, for +hope had crystallized into a baseless but none the less assured belief +that he would find a way to win her. + + + + +XVI + +QUARANTINE + + + +Blake arose like a boy on Christmas morning. He thrilled to an +extravagant gladness. At breakfast the truth came to him--he was young! +For the first time he realized that he had let himself grow up and lose +his illusions; that he had become cynical, tired, prosaic, while all +the time the flame of youth was merely smouldering. Old he was, but +only as a stripling soldier is aged by battle; as for the real, rare +joys of living and loving, he had never felt them. Myra Nell had +appealed to his affection like a dear and clever child, and helped to +keep some warmth in his heart. But this was magic. The sun had never +been so bright, the air so sweet to his nostrils, the strength so +vigorous in his limbs. + +He had become so accustomed to the mysterious letters by this time that +he had grown to look for them as a matter of course, and he was not +disturbed when, on arriving at his office, he found one in his mail. +Heretofore the writer had been positive in his statements, but now came +the first hint of uncertainty. + +"I cannot find Belisario Cardi," he wrote. "His hand is over all, and +yet he is more intangible than mist. I am hedged about with +difficulties and dangers which multiply as the days pass. I can do no +more, hence the task devolves upon you. Be careful, for he is more +desperate than ever. It is your life or his. + + "ONE WHO KNOWS." + +It was as daunting a message as he could have received--the withdrawal +of assistance, the authoritative confirmation of his fears--yet Blake's +spirit rose to meet the exigency with a new courage. It occurred to him +that if Maruffi, or whoever the author was, had exhausted his +usefulness, perhaps Vittoria could help. She had spent much time in her +search for this very Cardi, and might have learned something of value +concerning him. Oliveta, too, could be of assistance. He felt sure that +the knowledge of his own peril would be enough to enlist their aid, and +he gladly seized upon the thought that a common interest would draw him +closer to the woman he loved. + +He arrived at the La Branche house early that afternoon, and found +young Rilleau sitting on a box beneath Myra Nell's window, with the +girl herself embowered as before in a frame of roses. + +"Any symptoms yet?" Norvin inquired, agreeably. + +"Thousands! I'm slowly dying." + +Lecompte nodded dolefully. "Look at her color." + +"No doubt it's the glow from those red roses that I see in her cheeks." + +"It's fever," Miss Warren exclaimed, indignantly. She took a hand-glass +from her lap and regarded her vivid young features. "Smallpox attacks +people differently. With me the first sign is fever." She had parted +her abundant hair and swept it back from her brow in an attempt to make +herself look ill, but with the sole effect of enhancing her appearance +of abounding health. Madame la Branche's best black shawl was drawn +about her plump and dimpled shoulders. Assuming a hollow tone, she +inquired: "Do you see any other change in me?" + +"Yes. And I rather like that way of doing your hair." + +"Vittoria says I look like a picture of Sister Dolorosa, or something." + +"Is Miss Fabrizi in?" + +"In? How could she be out? Isn't she a dear, Norvin? I knew you'd meet +some day." + +"Does she play whist?" + +"Of course not, silly. She's--nearly a nun. But we sat up in bed all +night talking. Oh, it's a comfort to have some one with you at the +last, some one in whom you can confide. I can't bear to--to soar aloft +with so much on my conscience. I've confessed _everything_." + +"What's to prevent her from catching the disease and soaring away with +you?" + +"She's a nurse. They're just like doctors, you know, they never catch +anything. Is that hideous watchman still at his post?" + +"Yes. Fast asleep, with his mouth open." + +"I hope a fly crawls in," said the girl, vindictively; then, in an +eager whisper: "Couldn't you manage to get past him? We'd have a lovely +time here for a week." + +Rilleau raised his voice in jealous protest. + +"And leave me sitting on my throne? Never! I'm giving this box-party +for you, Myra Nell." + +"Oh, you could come, too." + +"I respect the law," Norvin told her; but Lecompte continued to +complain. + +"I don't see what you're doing here at this time of day, anyhow, Blake, +Have you no business responsibilities?" + +"I'm a member of the Contagion Club; I've a right to be here." + +"We were discussing rice, old shoes, and orange blossoms when you +interrupted," the languid Mr. Rilleau continued. "Frankly, speaking as +a friend, I don't see anything in your conversation so far to interest +a sick lady. Why don't you talk to the yellow-haired nurse?" + +"I intend to." + +"Vittoria is back in the kitchen preparing my diet," said Myra Nell. +"She's making fudge, I believe. I--I seem to crave sweet things. Maybe +it's another symptom." + +"It must be," Blake acknowledged. "I'll ask her what she thinks of it." +With a glance at the slumbering guard he vaulted the low fence and made +his way around to the rear of the house. + +He heard Vittoria singing as he came into the flower-garden, a +low-pitched Sicilian love-song. He called to her, and she came to a +window, smiling down at him, spotless and fresh in her stiff uniform. + +"Do you know that you're trespassing and may get into trouble?" she +queried. + +"The watchman is asleep, and I had to speak to you." + +"No wonder he sleeps. Myra Nell holds the poor fellow responsible for +all her troubles, and those young men have nearly driven him insane." + +"Is there any danger of smallpox, really?" + +"Not the slightest. This quarantine is merely a matter of form. But +that child--" She broke into a frank, sweet laugh. "She pretends to be +horribly frightened. All the time she is acting--the little fraud!" + +Norvin flushed a bit under her gaze. + +"I had no chance to talk to you last night." + +"And you will have no chance now." Vittoria tipped her chin the +slightest bit. + +"I must see you, alone." + +"Impossible!" + +"To-night. You can slip away on some pretext or other. It is really +important." + +She regarded him questioningly. "If that is true I will try, but--I +cannot meet you at Oliveta's house. Besides, you must not go into that +quarter alone at night." + +"What do you mean?" he inquired, wondering how she could know of his +danger. + +"Because--no American is safe there now. Perhaps I can meet you on the +street yonder." + +"I'll be waiting." + +"It may be late, unless I tell Myra Nell." + +"Heaven above! She'd insist on coming, too, just because it's +forbidden." + +"Very well. Now go before you are discovered." + +During the afternoon his excitement increased deliciously, and that +evening he found himself pacing the shaded street near the La Branche +home, with the eager restlessness of a lover. + +It was indeed late when Vittoria finally appeared. + +"Myra Nell is such a chatterbox," she explained, "that I couldn't get +her to bed. Have you waited long?" + +"I dare say. I'm not sure." + +"This is very exciting, is it not?" She glanced over her shoulder up +the ill-lighted street. Rows of shade trees cast long inky blots +between the corner illuminations; the houses on either side sat well +back in their yards, increasing the sense of isolation. "It is quite a +new experience for me." + +"For me, too." + +"I hope we're not seen. Signore Norvin Blake and a trained nurse! Oh, +the comment!" + +"There's a bench near by where we can sit. Passers-by will take us for +servants." + +"You are the butler, I am the maid," she laughed. + +"I am glad you can laugh," he told her. "You were very sad, there at +Terranova." + +"I've learned the value of a smile. Life is full of gladness if we can +only bring ourselves to see it. Now tell me the meaning of this. I knew +it must be important or I would not have come." Back of the bench upon +which she had seated herself a jessamine vine depended, filling the air +with perfume; the night was warm and still and languorous; through the +gloom she regarded him with curiosity. + +"I hate to begin," he said. "I dread to speak of unpleasant things--to +you. I wish we might just sit here and talk of whatever we pleased." + +"We cannot sit here long on any account. But let me guess. It is your +work against--those men." + +"Exactly. You know the history of our struggle with the Mafia?" + +"Everything." + +"I am leading a hard fight, and I think you can help me." + +"Why do you think so?" she asked, in a low voice. "I have given up my +part. I have no desire for revenge." + +"Nor have I. I do not wish to harm any man; but I became involved in +this through a desire to see justice done, and I have reached a point +where I cannot stop or go back. It started with the arrest of Gian +Narcone. You know how Donnelly was killed. They took his life for +Narcone's, and he, too, was my--dear friend." + +"All this is familiar to me," she said, in a strained tone. + +"I will tell you something that no one knows but myself, I have a +friend among the Mafiosi, and it is he, not I, who has brought the +murderers of Mr. Donnelly to an accounting." + +"You know him?" + +"Yes. At least I think I do." + +"His--name?" She was staring at him oddly. + +"I feel bound not to reveal it even to you. He has told me many things, +among them that Belisario Cardi is alive, is here, and that it is he +who worked all this evil." + +"What has all this to do with me?" she inquired. "Have I not told you +that I gave my search into other hands?" + +"It was Cardi who killed--one whom we both loved, one for whose life I +would have given my own; it was Cardi who destroyed my next-best +friend, a simple soul who lived for nothing but his duty. Now he has +threatened my life also--does that count for nothing with you?" + +She leaned forward, searching his face earnestly. "You are a brave man. +You should go away where he cannot harm you." + +"I would like very much to," he confessed, "but I am too great a coward +to run away." + +"And why do you tell me this?" + +"I need your help. My mysterious friend can do no more; he has said so. +I'm not equal to it alone." + +"Oh," she cried, as if yielding to a feeling long suppressed, "I did so +want to be rid of it all, and now you are in danger--the greatest +danger. Won't you give it up?" + +He shook his head, puzzled at her vehemence. "I don't wish to drag you +into it against your will, but Oliveta lives there among her +countrypeople. She must know many things which I, as an outsider, could +never learn. I--need help." + +There was a long silence before the girl said: + +"Yes, I will help, for I am still the same woman you knew in Sicily. I +am still full of hatred. I would give my life to convict Martel's +assassins; but I am fighting myself. That is why I have gone to live +with Oliveta until I have conquered and am ready to become a Sister." + +"Please don't say that." + +"Oliveta, you know, is alone," she went on, with forced composure, "and +so I watch over her. She is to be married soon, and when she is safe, +then I think I can return to the Sisters and live as I long to. It will +be a good match, much better than I ever hoped for, and she loves, +which is even more blessed to contemplate." Vittoria laid her hands +impulsively upon his arm. "Meanwhile I cannot refuse such aid as I can +give you, for you have already suffered too much through me. You _have_ +suffered, have you not?" + +"It has turned my hair gray," he laughed, trying not to show the depth +of his feeling. "But now that I know you are safe and well and happy, +nothing seems to matter. Does Myra Nell know who you are?" + +"No one knows save you and Oliveta. If that child even dreamed--" She +lifted her slender hands in an eloquent gesture. "My secret would be +known in an hour. Now I must go, for even housemaids must observe the +proprieties." + +"It's late. I think I had better see you safely home." + +"I dare say our watchman has found himself a comfortable bed--" + +"The slumbers of night-watchmen are notoriously deep." + +"And Papa La Branche has finished his solitaire. There is no danger." + +No one was in sight as they stole in through the driveway to the +servants' door. She gave him her hand, and he pressed it closely, +whispering: + +"When shall I see you again?" + +"After the quarantine. I can do nothing until then." + +"You will go back to Oliveta's house?" + +"Yes, but you must never come there, even in daylight." She thought for +a moment while he still retained her hand. "I will instruct you +later--" She broke off suddenly, and at the same instant Blake heard a +stir in the darkness behind him. + +Vittoria drew him quickly into the black shadows of the rear porch, +where they stood close together, afraid to move until the man had +passed. The kitchen gallery was shielded by a latticework covered with +vines, and Blake felt reasonably safe within its shelter. He was +beginning to breathe easier when a voice barely an arm's-length away +inquired, gruffly: + +"Who's there?" + +He would have given something handsome to be out of this foolish +predicament, which he knew must be very trying to his companion. But +the fates were against him. To his horror, the man struck a match and +mounting the steps to the porch flashed it directly into his face. + +"Good evening," said Blake, with rather a weak attempt at assurance. + +"What are you doing here?" the guard demanded. "Don't you know that +this house is quarantined?" + +"I do. Kindly lower your voice; there are people asleep." + +The fellow's eyes took in the girl in her stiffly starched uniform +before the match burned out and darkness engulfed them once more. + +"I'm not a burglar." + +"Humph! I don't know whether you are or not." + +"I assure you," urged Vittoria. + +"Strike another match and I'll prove to you that I'm not dangerous." +When the light flared up once more Norvin selected a card from his case +and handed it to the watchman. "I am Norvin Blake, president of the +Cotton Exchange." + +But this information failed of the desired effect. + +"Oh, I know you, but this ain't exactly the right time to be calling on +a lady." + +Vittoria felt her companion's muscles stiffen. + +"I will explain my presence later," he said, stiffly; then, turning to +Vittoria, "I am sorry I disturbed this estimable man. Good night." + +"Just a minute," the watchman broke in. "You needn't say good night." + +"What do you mean?" + +"This house is quarantined for smallpox." + +"Well?" + +"Nobody can come or go without the doctor's permission." + +"I understand that." + +"Now that you're here, I reckon you'll stay." + +Miss Fabrizi uttered a smothered exclamation. + +"You're crazy!" said Blake, angrily. + +"Yes? Well, that's my instructions." + +"I haven't been inside." + +"That don't make any difference; the lady has." + +"It's absurd. You can't force--" + +"'Sh-h!" breathed Vittoria. + +Some one had entered the kitchen at their back. A light flashed through +the window, the door opened, and Mr. La Branche, clad in a rusty satin +dressing-gown and carpet slippers, stood revealed, a lamp in his hand. + +"I thought I heard voices," he said. "What is the trouble?" + +"There's no trouble at all, sir," Blake protested, then found himself +absurdly embarrassed. + +Vittoria and the guard both began to speak at once, and at length she +broke into laughter, saying: + +"Poor Mr. Blake, I fear he has been exposed to contagion. It was +necessary for him to talk with me on a matter of importance, and now +this man tells him he cannot leave." + +But from Papa La Branche's expression it was evident that he saw +nothing humorous in the situation. + +"To talk with you! At this hour!" + +"I'm working for the Board of Health, and those are my orders," +declared outraged authority. + +"It was imperative that I see Miss Fabrizi; the blame for this +complication is entirely mine," Norvin assured the old creole. + +The representative of the Board of Health inquired, loudly: "Didn't the +doctors tell you that nobody could come or go, Mr. La Branche?" + +"They did." + +"But, my dear man, this is no ordinary case. Now that I have explained, +I shall go, first apologizing to Mr. La Branche for disturbing him." + +"No, you won't" + +The master of the house stepped aside, holding his light on high. + +"Miss Fabrizi is my guest," he said, quietly, "so no explanations are +necessary. This man is but doing his duty, and, therefore, Mr. Blake, I +fear I shall have to offer you the poor hospitality of my roof until +the law permits you to leave." + +"Impossible, sir! I--" + +"I regret that we have never met before; but you are welcome, and I +shall do my best to make you comfortable." He waved his hand +commandingly toward the open door. + +"Thank you, but I can't accept, really." + +"I fear that you have no choice." + +"But the idea is ridiculous, preposterous! I'm a busy man; I can't shut +myself up this way for a week or more. Besides, I couldn't allow myself +to be forced upon strangers in this manner." + +"If you are a good citizen, you will respect the law," said La Branche, +coldly. + +"Bother the law! I have obligations! Why--the very idea is absurd! I'll +see the health officers and explain at once--" + +The old gentleman, however, still waited, while the watchman took his +place at the top of the steps as if determined to do his duty, come, +what might. + +Norvin found Vittoria's eyes upon him, and saw that beneath her +self-possession she was intensely embarrassed. Evidently there was +nothing to do now but accept the situation and put an end to the +painful scene at any sacrifice. Once inside, he could perhaps set +himself right; but for the present no explanations were possible. He +might have braved the Board of Health, but he could not run away from +Papa La Branche's accusing eye. Bowing gravely, he said: + +"You are quite right, sir, and I thank you for your hospitality. If you +will lead the way, I will follow." + +The two culprits entered the big, empty kitchen, then followed the +rotund little figure which waddled ahead of them into the front part of +the house. + + + + +XVII + +AN OBLIGATION IS MET + + + +Montegut La Branche paused in the front hall at the foot of the stairs. + +"It is late" he said; "no doubt Mademoiselle wishes to retire." + +"I would like to offer a word of explanation," Norvin ventured, but +Vittoria interposed, quietly: + +"Mr. La Branche is right--explanations are unnecessary." Bowing +graciously to them both, she mounted the stairs into the gloom above, +followed by the old Creole's polite voice: + +"A pleasant sleep, Mademoiselle, and happy dreams." Leading the way +into the library, he placed the lamp upon a table, then, turning to his +unbidden guest, inquired, coldly, "Well?" + +His black eyes were flashing underneath his gray brows, and he +presented a fierce aspect despite his gown, which resembled a Mother +Hubbard, and his slippers, which flapped as he walked. + +"I must apologize for my intrusion," said Norvin. "I wish you to +understand how it came about." + +"In view of your attentions to my wife's cousin, it was unfortunate +that you should have selected this time, this place, for +your--er--adventure." + +"Exactly! I'm wondering how to spare Miss Warren any annoyance." + +"I fear that will be impossible. She must know the truth." + +"She must not know; she must not guess." + +"M'sieu!" exclaimed the old man. "My wife and I can take no part in +your intrigues. Myra Nell is too well bred to show resentment at your +conduct, no matter what may be her feelings." + +Norvin flushed with exasperation, then suddenly felt ashamed of +himself. Surely he could trust this chivalrous old soul with a part of +the truth. Once his scruples were satisfied, the man's very sense of +honor would prevent him from even thinking of what did not concern him. + +"I think you will understand better," he said, "when you have heard me +through. I can't tell you everything, for I am not at liberty to do so. +But you know, perhaps, that I am connected with the Committee of +Justice." + +"I do." + +"You don't know the full extent of the task with which I am charged, +however." + +"Perhaps not." + +"Its gravity may be understood when you know that I have been marked +for the same fate as Chief Donnelly." + +The old man started. + +"My labors have taken me into many quarters. I seek information through +many channels. It was upon this business, in a way, that I came to see +Miss Fabrizi." + +"I do not follow you." + +"She is a Sicilian. She knows much which would be of value to the +Committee and to me. It was necessary for me to see her alone and +secretly. If the truth were known it would mean her--life, perhaps." + +The Creole's bearing altered instantly. + +"Say no more. I believe you to be a man of honor, and I apologize for +my suspicions." + +"May I trust you to respect this confidence?" + +"It is sealed." + +"But this doesn't entirely relieve the situation. I can't explain to +Madame La Branche or to Miss Myra Nell even as much as I've explained +to you." + +"Some day will you relieve me from my promise of secrecy?" queried the +old man, with an eager, bird-like glance from his bright eyes. + +"Assuredly. As soon as we have won our fight against the Mafia." + +"Then I will lie for you, and confess later. I have never lied to my +wife, M'sieu--except upon rare occasions," Mr. La Branche chuckled +merrily. "And even then only about trifles. So, the result? Absolute +trust; supreme confidence on her part. A happy state for man and wife, +is it not? Ha! I am a very good liar, an adept, as you shall see, for I +am not calloused by practice and therefore liable to forgetfulness. +With me a lie is always fresh in my mind; it is a matter of absorbing +interest, hence I do not forget myself. Heaven knows the excitement of +nursing an innocent deceit and of seeing it grow and flower under my +care will be most welcome, for the monotony of this abominable +confinement--But I must inquire, do you play piquet?" + +"I am rather good at it," Norvin confessed, whereat Papa La Branche +seemed about to embrace him. + +"You are sent from heaven!" he declared. "You deliver me from darkness. +Thirty-seven games of Napoleon to-day! Think of it! I was dealing the +thirty-eighth when you came. But piquet! Ah, that is a game, even +though my angel wife abominates it. We have still five days of this +hideous imprisonment, so let us agree to an hour before lunch, an hour +before dinner, then--um-,--perhaps two hours in the evening at a few +cents a game, eh? You agree, my friend?" The little man peered up +timidly. "Perhaps--but no, I dare say you are sleepy, and it _is_ late." + +"I should enjoy a game or two right now," Norvin falsified. "But first, +don't you think we'd better rehearse our explanation of my presence?" + +"A good idea. You came to see me upon business. I telephoned, and you +came like a good friend, then--let me see, I was so overjoyed to see a +new face that I rushed forth to greet you, and behold! that scorpion, +that loathsome reptile outside pronounced you infected. He forced you +to enter, even against my protestations. It was all my fault. I am +desolated with regrets. Eh? How is that? You see nature designed me for +a rogue." + +"Excellent! But what is our important business?" + +"True. Since I retired from active affairs I have no business. That is +awkward, is it not? May I ask in what line you are engaged?" + +"I am a cotton factor." + +"Then I shall open an account with you. I shall give you money to +invest. Come, there need be no deceit about that; I shall write you a +check at once." + +"That's hardly necessary, so long as we understand each other." + +But Mr. La Branche insisted, saying: + +"One lie is all that I dare undertake. I have told two at the same +time, but invariably they clashed and disaster resulted. There! I trust +you to make use of the money as you think best. But enough! What do +women know of business? It is a mysterious word to them. Now--piquet!" +He dragged Norvin to a seat at a table, then trotted away in search of +cards, his slippers clap-clapping at every step as if in gleeful +applause. "Shall we cut for deal, M'sieu? Ah!" He sighed gratefully as +he won, and began to shuffle. "With four hours of piquet every day, and +a lie upon my conscience, I feel that I shall be happy in spite of this +execrable smallpox." + +Myra Nell's emotions may be imagined when, on the following morning, +she learned who had broken through the cordon while she slept. + +"Lordy! Lordy!" she exclaimed, with round eyes. "He said he'd do it; +but I didn't think he really would." + +She had flounced into Vittoria's room to gossip while she combed her +hair. + +"Mr. La Branche says it's all his fault, and he's terribly grieved," +Miss Fabrizi told her. "Now, now! Your eyes are fairly popping out." + +"Wouldn't your eyes pop out if the handsomest, the richest, the bravest +man in New Orleans deliberately took his life in his hands to see you +and be near you?" + +"But he says it was important business which brought him." Vittoria +smiled guiltily. + +"Tell that to your granny! You don't know men as I do. Have you really +seen him? I'm not _dreaming_?" + +"I have seen him, with these very eyes, and if you were not such a lazy +little pig you'd have seen him, too. Shall you take your breakfast in +your room, as usual?" Vittoria's eyes twinkled. + +"Don't tease me!" Miss Warren exclaimed, with a furious blush. "I--I +love to tease other people, but I can't stand it myself. Breakfast in +my room, indeed! But of course I shall treat him with freezing +politeness." + +"Why should you pretend to be offended?" + +"Don't you understand? This is bound to cause gossip. Why, the idea of +Norvin Blake, the handsomest, the richest--" + +"Yes, yes." + +"The idea of his getting himself quarantined in the same house with +_me_, and our being here together for days--maybe for _months!_ Why, it +will create the loveliest scandal. I'll never dare hold up my head +again in public, _never_. You see how it must make me feel. I'm +compromised." Myra Nell undertook to show horror in her features, but +burst into a gale of laughter. + +"Do you care for him very much?" + +"I'm crazy about him! Why, dearie, after _this_--we're--we're almost +married! Now watch me show him how deeply I'm offended." + +But when she appeared in the dining-room, late as usual, her frigidity +was not especially marked. On the contrary, her face rippled into one +smile after another, and seizing Blake by both hands, she danced around +him, singing: + +"You did it! You did it! You did it! Hurrah for a jolly life in the +pest-house!" + +Madame La Branche was inclined to be shocked at this behavior, but +inasmuch as Papa Montegut was beaming angelically upon the two young +people, she allowed herself to be mollified. + +"I couldn't believe Vittoria," Myra Nell told Norvin. "Don't you know +the danger you run?" + +Mr. La Branche exclaimed: "I am desolated at the consequences of my +selfishness! I did not sleep a wink. I can never atone." + +"Quite right," his wife agreed. "You must have been mad, Montegut. It +was criminal of you to rush forth and embrace him in that manner." + +"But, delight of my soul, the news he bore! The joy of seeing him! It +unmanned me." The Creole waved his hands wildly, as if at a loss for +words. + +"Oh, you fibber! Norvin told me he'd never met you," said Myra Nell. + +"Eh! Impossible! We are associates in business; business of a most +important--But what does that term signify to you, my precious +ladybird? Nothing! Enough, then, to say that he saved me from disaster. +Naturally I was overjoyed and forgot myself." + +His wife inquired, timidly, "Have your affairs gone disastrously?" + +"Worse than that! Ruin stared us in the face until _he_ came. Our +deliverer!" + +Blake flushed at this fulsome extravagance, particularly as he saw Myra +Nell making faces at him. + +"Fortunately everything is arranged now," he assured his hostess. But +this did not satisfy Miss Warren, who, with apparent innocence, +questioned the two men until Papa La Branche began to bog and flounder +in his explanations. Fortunately for the men, she was diverted for the +moment by discovering that the table was set for only four. + +"Oh, we need another place," she exclaimed, "for Vittoria!" + +The old lady said, quietly: "No, dear. While we were alone it was +permissible, but it is better now in this way." + +Myra Nell's ready acquiescence was a shock to Norvin, arguing, as it +did, that these people regarded the Countess Margherita as an employee. +Could it be that they were so utterly blind? + +He was allowed little time for such thoughts, however, since Myra Nell +set herself to the agreeable task of unmasking her lover and +confounding Montegut La Branche. But Cousin Althea was not of a +suspicious nature, and continued to beam upon her husband, albeit a +trifle vaguely. Then when breakfast was out of the way the girl added +to Norvin's embarrassment by flirting with him so outrageously that he +was glad to flee to Papa Montegut's piquet game. + +At the first opportunity he said to Vittoria: "I feel dreadfully about +this. Why, they seem to think you're a--a--servant! It's unbearable!" + +"That is part of my work; I am accustomed to it." She smiled. + +"Then you _have_ changed. But if they knew the truth, how differently +they'd act!" + +"They must never suspect; more depends upon it than you know." + +"I feel horribly guilty, all the same." + +"It can make no difference what they think of me. I'm afraid, however, +that you have--made it--difficult for Myra Nell." + +"So it appears. I didn't think of her when I entered this delightful +prison." + +"You had no choice." + +"It wasn't altogether that. I wanted to be near you, Vittoria." + +Her glance was level and cool, her voice steady. "It was chivalrous to +try to spare me the necessity of explaining. The situation was trying; +but we were both to blame, and now we must make the best of it. Myra +Nell's misunderstanding is complete, and she will be unhappy unless you +devote yourself to her." + +"I simply can't. I think I'll keep to myself as much as possible." + +"You don't know that girl," Vittoria said. "You think she is frivolous +and inconsequent, that she has the brightness of a sunbeam and no more +substance; but you are mistaken. She is good and true and steadfast +underneath, and she can feel deeply." + +Blake found that it was impossible to isolate himself. Mr. La Branche +clung to him like a drowning man; his business affairs called him +repeatedly to the telephone; Myra Nell appropriated him with all the +calm assurance of a queen, and Madame La Branche insisted upon seeing +personally to his every want. The only person of whom he saw little was +Vittoria Fabrizi. + +His disappearance, of course, required much explaining and long +conversations with his office, with his associates, and with police +headquarters, where his plight was regarded as a great joke. This was +all very well; but there were other and unforeseen consequences. + +Bernie Dreux heard of the affair with blank amazement, which turned +into something resembling rage. His duty, however, was plain. He packed +a valise and set out for the quarantined house like a man marching to +his execution; for he had a deathly horror of disease, and smallpox was +beyond compare the most loathsome. + +But the Health Department had given strict orders, and he was turned +away; nay, he was rudely repulsed. Crushed, humiliated, he retired to +his club, and there it was that Rilleau found him, steeped in +melancholy and a very insidious brand of Kentucky Bourbon. + +When Lecompte accused Blake of breaking the rules of the game, the +little bachelor rose resolutely to his sister's defense. + +"Norvin's got a perfect right to protect her," he lied, "and I honor +him for it." + +"You mean he's engaged to her?" Rilleau inquired, blankly. + +Bernie nodded. + +"Well, so am I, so are Delevan and Mangny, and the others." + +"Not this way." Mr. Dreux's alcoholic flush deepened. "He thought she +was in danger, so he flew to her side. Mighty unselfish to sacrifice +his business and brave the disease. He did it with my consent, +y'understand? When he asked me, I said, 'Norvin, my boy, she needs +you.' So he went. Unselfish is no word for it; he's a man of honor, a +hero." + +Mr. Rilleau's gloom thickened, and he, too, ordered the famous Bourbon. +He sighed. + +"I'd have done the same thing; I offered to, and I'm no hero. I suppose +that ends us. It's a great disappointment, though. I hoped--during +Carnival week that she'd--Well, I wanted her for my real queen." + +Bernie undertook to clap the speaker on the shoulder and admonish him +to buck up; but his eye was wavering and his aim so uncertain that he +knocked off Mr. Rilleau's hat. With due apologies he ran on: + +"She couldn't have been queen at all, only for him. He made it +possible." + +"I had as much to say about it as he did." + +Bernie whispered: "He lent me the money, y'understand? It was all +right, under the circumstances, everything being settled but the date, +y'understand?" + +Rilleau rose at last, saying: "You're all to be congratulated. He is +the best fellow in New Orleans, and there's only one man I'd rather see +your sister marry than him; that's me. Now I'm going to select a +present before the rush commences. What would you think of an onyx +clock with gold cupids straddling around over it?" + +"Fine! I'm sorry, old man--I like you, y'understand?" Bernie upset his +chair in rising to embrace his friend, then catching sight of August +Kulm, who entered at the moment, he made his way to him and repeated +his explanations. + +Mr. Kulm was silent, attentive, despairing, and spoke vaguely of +suicide, whereupon Dreux set himself to the task of drowning this +Teutonic instinct in the flowing bowl. + +"I don't know what has happened to the boys," Myra Nell complained to +Norvin, on the second day after his arrival. "Lecompte was going to +read me the Rubaiyat, and Raymond Cline promised me a bunch of orchids; +but nobody has shown up." + +"It's jealousy," he said, lightly. + +"I suppose so. Of course it was nice of you to compromise me this +way--it's delicious, in fact--but I didn't think it would scare off the +others." + +"You think I have compromised you?" + +"You know you have, _terribly_. I'm engaged to all of them--everybody, +in fact, except you--" + +"But they know my presence here is unintentional." + +"Oh! _Is_ it, really?" She laughed. + +"Don't you believe it is?" + +"Goodness! Don't spoil all my pleasure. If ever I saw two cringing, +self-conscious criminals, it's you and Papa Montegut. Men are so +deceitful. Heigh-ho! I thought this was going to be splendid, but you +play cards all day with Mr. La Branche while I die of loneliness." + +"What would you like me to do?" he faltered. + +"I don't know. It's very dull. Couldn't you sally forth and drag in +Lecompte or Murray or Raymond?" She looked up with eyes beaming. +"Bernie was furious, wasn't he?" + +Mr. La Branche came trotting in with the evening newspaper in his hand. +"It's in the paper," he chuckled. "Those reporters get everything." + +"What's in the paper?" Myra Nell snatched the sheet from his hand and +read eagerly as he went trotting out again with his slippers applauding +every step. "Oh, Lordy!" + +Blake read over her shoulder, and his face flushed. + +"Norvin, we're really, truly engaged, now. See!" After a pause, "And +you've never even asked me." + +There was only one thing to say. + +"Myra Nell," he began, "I want you--Will you--" + +"Oh, you goose, you're not taking a cold shower!" + +"Will you do me the honor to be my wife?" + +She burst into delightful laughter. "So you actually have the courage +to propose? Shall I take time to think it over, or shall I answer now?" + +"Now, by all means." + +"Very well, of course I--won't." + +"Why not?" he exclaimed, with a start. + +"The idea! You don't mean it!" + +"I do." + +"Why, Norvin, you're old enough to be my father." + +"Oh, no, I'm not." + +"Do you think I could marry a man with gray hair?" + +"It all gets gray after a while." + +"No. I'll be engaged to you, but I'll never marry any one, never. That +would spoil all the fun. This very thing shows how stupid it must be; +the mere rumor has scared the others away." + +"You're a Mormon." + +"I'm not. I'll tell you what I'll do; if I ever marry any one, I'll +marry you." + +"That's altogether too indefinite." + +"I don't see it. Meanwhile we're engaged, aren't we?" + +"If that's the case--" He reached uncertainly for her hand, and pressed +it. "I--I'm very happy!" + +She waited an instant, watching him shyly, then said: "Now I must show +this to Vittoria. But--please don't look so frightened." + +The next instant she was gone. When Miss Fabrizi entered her room, a +half-hour later, it was to find her with her eyes red from weeping. + +As for Norvin, he had risen to the occasion as best he could. He loved +Myra Nell sincerely, tenderly, in a big-brotherly way; he would have +gone to any lengths to serve her, yet he could not feel toward her as +he felt toward Vittoria Fabrizi. He nerved himself to stand by his +word, even though it meant the greatest sacrifice. But the thought +agonized him. + +Nor was he made more easy as time went on, for Mr. and Mrs. La Branche +took it for granted that he was their cousin's affianced lover; and +while the girl herself now bewildered him with her shy, inviting +coquetry, or again berated him for placing her in an unwelcome +position, he could never determine how much she really cared. + +When the quarantine was finally lifted he walked out with feelings akin +to those of a prisoner who has been reprieved. + + + + +XVIII + +BELISARIO CARDI + + + +After his enforced idleness Blake was keen to resume his task, yet +there was little for him to do save study the one big problem which lay +at the root of the whole matter. + +The evidence against the prisoners was in good shape; they were +indicted, and the trial date would soon be set. They had hired +competent lawyers and were preparing for a desperate fight. Where the +necessary money came from nobody seemed to know, although it was +generally felt that a powerful influence was at work to free them. The +district attorney expressed the strongest hopes of obtaining +convictions; but there came disturbing rumors of alibis for the +accused, of manufactured evidence, and of overwhelming surprises to be +sprung at the last moment. Detectives were shadowed by other +detectives, lawyers were spied upon, their plans leaked out; witnesses +for the State disappeared. Opposing the authorities was a master hand, +at once so cunning and so bold as to threaten a miscarriage of justice. + +This could be none other then Belisario Cardi, yet he seemed no nearer +discovery than ever. Norvin had no idea how to proceed. He could only +wait for some word from his new ally, Vittoria Fabrizi. It might be +that she would find a clue, and he feared to complicate matters by any +premature or ill-judged action. Meanwhile, he encountered the results +of Bernie Dreux's garrulity. He found himself generally regarded as +Myra Nell's accepted suitor, and, of course, could make no denial. But +when he telephoned to the girl herself and asked when he might call he +was surprised to hear her say: + +"You can't call at all Why, you've ruined all my enjoyment as it is! +There hasn't been a man in this whole neighborhood since I came home. +Even the policeman takes the other side of the street." + +"All the more reason why I should come." + +"I won't have you hanging around until I get my Carnival dresses +fitted. Oh, Norvin, you ought to see them. There's one-white brocaded +peau de soie, all frills and rosebuds; the bodice is trimmed with pearl +passementerie, and it's a dear." After a moment's hesitation she added: +"Norvin dear, what does it cost to rent the front page of a newspaper?" + +"I don't know. I don't think it can be done." + +"I wondered if you couldn't do it and--deny our engagement." + +"Do you want to break it?" He could hardly keep the eagerness out of +his voice. + +"Oh, no! But I'd like to deny it until after the Carnival. Now don't be +offended. I'll never get my dances filled if I'm as good as married to +you. Imagine a queen with an empty programme. I just love you to +pieces, of course, but I can't allow our engagement to interfere with +the success of the Carnival, can I?" + +"Don't you know this is a thing we can't joke about?" + +"Of course I do. It has taught me a good lesson." + +"What?" + +"I'll never be engaged to another man." + +"Well! I should hope not. Do you intend to marry me, Myra Nell?" + +"I don't know. Sometimes I think I will, then again I'm afraid nobody'd +ever come to see me if I did. I'll get old, like you." + +"I'm not old." + +"We'd both have gray hair and--I can't talk any more. Here comes Bernie +with an armful of dresses and a mouthful of pins. If he coughs I'll be +all alone in the world. No, you can't see me for a week. I don't even +want to hear from you except--" + +"What?" + +"Well, the strain of dress-fitting is tremendous. I'm nearly always +hungry--ravenous for nourishment." + +"You mean you're out of candy, I suppose?" + +"Practically. There's hardly a whole piece left. They've all been +nibbled." + +Blake did not know whether to feel amused or ashamed. He was relieved +at the girl's apparent carelessness, yet this half-serious engagement +had put Myra Nell in a new light. He could not think of their relations +as really unchanged, and this was inevitable since his sentiment for +her was genuine. The grotesqueness of the affair--even Myra Nell's own +attitude toward it--seemed a violation of something sacred. + +But nothing could subdue the joy he felt in his growing intimacy with +Vittoria, whom he managed to see frequently, although she never +permitted him to come to Oliveta's house. Little by little her reserve +melted, and more and more she seemed to forget her intention of +devoting herself to a religious life, while fears for her friend's +safety appealed to the deep mother instinct which had remained latent +in her. + +She was unable, however, even with Oliveta's assistance, to put any +information in his way, and Blake could think of no better plan than to +try once more to sound Caesar Maruffi. If Caesar had really written the +letters, it would be strange if he could not be induced to go farther, +despite his obvious fear of Cardi. It was unbelievable that a man who +knew so much about the Mafia was really in ignorance of its leader's +identity, and Blake was convinced that if he acted diplomatically and +seized the right occasion he could bring the fellow to unbosom himself. + +Discarding all thought of his own safety, he went often to the Red Wing +Club. But he found Caesar wary, and he dared not be too abrupt. Time +and again he was upon the verge of speaking out, but something +invariably prevented, some inner voice warned him that the man's mood +was unpropitious, that his extravagant caution was not yet satisfied. +He allowed the Sicilian to feel him out to his heart's content, and, at +last, seeing that he made no real progress, he set out one evening +resolved to risk all in an effort to reach some definite understanding. + +He was delayed in reaching the foreign quarter, and the dinner-hour was +nearly over when he arrived at the cafe. Maruffi was there, as usual, +but he had finished his meal and was playing cards with some of his +countrymen, swarthy, eager-faced, voluble fellows whose chatter filled +the place. They greeted Norvin politely as he seated himself near by, +then went on with their amusement as he ordered and ate his dinner. He +was near enough to hear their talk, and to catch an occasional glimpse +of the game, so that he was not long in finding that they played for +considerable stakes. They were as earnest as school-boys, and he +watched their ever-changing expressions with interest, particularly +when he discovered that Maruffi was in hard luck. The big Sicilian sat +bulked up in a corner, black, silent, and sinister, his scowling brows +bespeaking his rage. Occasionally he growled a curse, then sent the +waiter scurrying with an order. Other Italians were drawn to the scene +and crowded about the players. + +When Norvin had finished his meal he sat back to smoke and idly sip his +claret, thinking he would wait until the game broke up, so that he +might get Caesar to himself and perhaps put the issue to the test. He +began to study the fellow's face, thinking what force, what passion lay +in it, puzzling his brain for some means of enlisting that energy upon +his side. But as fortune continued to run against Maruffi, he began to +fear that the time was not favorable. + +What a picture those laughing, hawk-like men formed, surrounding the +black, resentful merchant! Martel Savigno could have drawn a group like +that, he mused, for he had a rare appreciation of his own people, no +matter what might be said of his talent. He had done some very +creditable Sicilian sketches; in fact, Norvin had one framed in his +room. What a pity the Count had been stricken in the first years of his +promise! What a ruthless hand it was that had destroyed him! What a +giant mind it was which had kept all Sicily in terror and scaled its +lips! + +In that very group yonder there probably was more than one who knew the +evil genius in person, and yet they were held in a thralldom of fear +which no offer of riches could break. What manner of man was this +Cardi? What hellish methods did he follow to wield such despotism? +Those card-players were impudent, unscrupulous blades, as ready to +gamble with death as with their jingling coins, and yet they dared not +lift a hand against him. + +Blake saw that the game had reached a point of unusual intensity; the +players were deeply engrossed; the spectators had fallen silent, with +bright eyes fixed upon the mounting stakes. When the tension broke +Norvin saw that Caesar had lost again, and smiled at the excited +conversation which ensued. There was a babble of laughter, of curses, +of expostulation, shafts of badinage flew at the Sicilian merchant. In +the midst of it he raised a huge, hairy fist and brought it down, +smiting the table until the coins, the cards, and the glasses leaped. +His face was distorted; his voice was thick with passion. + +[Illustration: "SILENZIO" HE GROWLED, "I PLAY MY OWN GAME, AND I LOSE"] + +"_Silenzio!_" he growled, with such imperative fury that the others +fell silent; then hoarsely: "I play my own game, and I lose. That is +all! You are like old wives with your advice. It is my accursed luck, +which will some day bring me to the gallows. Now deal!" + +That same nausea which invariably seized Norvin Blake in moments of +extreme excitement swept over him now. His whole body went cold, the +knot of figures faded from his vision, he heard the noisy voices as if +from a great distance. A giant hand had reached forth and gripped him, +halting his breath and his heart-beats. The room swam dizzily, in a +haze. + +He found, an instant later, that he had risen and was gripping the +table in front of him as if for support. He had upset his goblet of +wine, and a wide red stain was spreading over the white cloth. To him +it was the blood of Martel Savigno. He stared down at it dazedly, his +eyes glazed with horror and surprise. + +As the crimson splotch widened his heart took up its halting labors, +then began to race, faster and faster, until he felt himself +smothering; his frame was swept with tremors. Then the raucous voices +grew louder and louder, mounting into a roar, as if he were coming out +from a swoon, and all the time that red blotch grew until he could see +no other color; it blurred the room and the quarreling gamblers; it +steeped the very air. He was still deathly sick, as only those men are +whose blood sours, whose bones and muscles disintegrate at the touch of +fear. + +He did not remember leaving the place, but found the cool night air +fanning fresh upon his face as he lurched blindly down the dark street, +within his eyes the picture of a scowling, black-browed visage; in his +ears that hoarse, unforgettable command, _"Silenzio!"_ + +A single word, burdened with rage and venom, had carried him back over +the years to a certain moment and a certain spot on a Sicilian +mountain-side. The peculiar arrogance, the harsh vibrations of that +voice permitted no mistake. He saw again a ghost-gray road walled in +with fearful shadows, and at his feet two silent, twisted bodies dimly +outlined against the dust. A match flared and Ricardo Ferara grinned up +into the night beneath his grizzled mustache, Narcone, the butcher, his +hands still wet, was whining for the blood of the American. He heard +Martel Savigno call, heard the young Count's voice rise and break in a +shriek, heard a thunder of hoofs retreating into the blackness. +Sicilian men were peering into his face, talking excitedly; through +their chatter came that same voice, imperative, furious, filled with +rage, and it cried: + +"_Silenzio!_" + +There was no mistaking it. The veil was ripped at last. + +Blake recalled the dim outlines of that burly, bull-necked figure as it +had leaped into brief silhouette against the glare of the blazing +match, that night so long ago, and then he cried out aloud in the empty +street as he realized how complete was the identification. He +remembered Donnelly's vague prediction five minutes before he was +stricken: + +"If what I suspect is true, it will cause a sensation," + +A sensation indeed! The surprise, the realization of consequences, was +too overpowering to permit coherent thought. This Maruffi, or Cardi, or +whoever he might prove to be, was tremendous. No wonder he had been +hard to uncover. No wonder his power was absolute. He had the genius of +a great general, a great politician, and a great criminal, all in one, +and he was as pitiless as a panther, more deadly than a moccasin. What +influence had perverted such intellect into a weapon of iniquity? What +evil of the blood, what lesion of the brain, had distorted his +instincts so monstrously? + +Caesar Maruffi, rich, respected, honored! It was unbelievable. + +Blake halted after a time and took note of the surroundings into which +his feet had led him. He was deep in the foreign quarter, and found, +with a start, that he had been heading for Vittoria Fabrizi's dwelling +as if guided by some extraneous power. By a strong exercise of will he +calmed himself. What he needed above all things was counsel, some one +with whom he could share this amazing discovery. Perhaps his presence +here was a sign; at any rate, he decided to follow his first impulse, +so hastened onward. + +Inside the house his brain cleared in a measure, as he waited; but his +agitation must have left plain traces, for no sooner had Vittoria +appeared than she exclaimed: + +"My friend! Something has happened." + +He rose and met her half-way. "Yes. Something tremendous, something +terrible." + +"It was unwise of you to come here--you may be followed. Tell me +quickly what has made you so indiscreet?" + +"I have found Belisario Cardi." + +She paled; her eyes flamed. + +"Yes--it's incredible." His voice shook. "I know the man well, that's +the marvel of it. I've trusted him; I've rubbed shoulders with him; I +went to him to-night to enlist his aid." He paused, realizing for the +first time that the mystery of those letters was now deeper than ever. +If Maruffi had not written them, who then? "He's the best and richest +Italian in the city. God! The thing is appalling." + +"He must go to justice," said Vittoria, quietly. "His name?" + +"Caesar Maruffi!" + +The girl's eager look faded into one of blank dismay. + +"No!" she said, strangely. "No!" + +"Do you know him?" + +In a daze she nodded; then cast a hurried, frightened look over her +shoulder. + +"Madonna mia! Caesar Maruffi!" Disbelief and horror leaped into her +eyes. "You are mad! Not Caesar. I do not believe it." + +"Caesar, _Caesar_." he cried. "Why do you call him that? Why do you +doubt? What is he to you?" + +She drew away with a look that brought him to his senses. + +"There is no mistake," he mumbled. "He is Cardi. I know it. I--" + +"Wait, wait; don't tell me." She went groping uncertainly to the door. +"Don't tell me yet." + +A moment later he heard her call: + +"Oliveta! Come quickly, sorella mia. A friend. Quickly!" + +Oliveta--recognizably the same girl that he had known in +Sicily--entered with her black brows lifted in anxious inquiry, her +dark eyes wide with apprehension. + +"Some evil has befallen; tell me!" she said, wasting no time in +greeting. + +"No. Nothing evil," Blake assured her. + +"Our friend has made a terrible discovery," said Vittoria, in a faint +voice. "I cannot believe--I--want you to hear, carina." She motioned to +Norvin. + +"I have been seeking our enemy, Belisario Cardi, and--I have found him." + +Oliveta cried out in fierce triumph: "God be praised! He lives; that is +enough. I feared he had cheated us." + +"Listen!" exclaimed Vittoria, in such a tone that the peasant girl +started. "You don't understand." + +"I understand nothing except that he lives. His blood shall wash our +blood. That is what we swore, and I have never forgotten, even though +you have. He shall go to meet his dead, and his soul shall be +accursed." She spoke with the same hysterical ferocity as when she had +cursed her father's murderer in the castello of Terranova. + +"He calls himself Caesar Maruffi," Blake told her. + +There was a pause, then she said, simply: "That is a lie." + +"No, no! I saw him that night. I saw him again to-night." + +"It cannot be." + +"That is what I have said," concurred Vittoria, with strange eagerness. +"No, no--it would be too dreadful." + +Mystified and offended, Blake defended his statement forcibly. "Believe +it or not, as you please, it is true. That night in Sicily he came +among the brigands who held me prisoner. They were talking excitedly. +He cried, 'Silenzio!' in a voice I can never forget. To-night he was +gambling, and he lost heavily. He was furious; his friends began to +chatter, and he cried that word again! I would know it a thousand years +hence. I saw it all in a flash. I saw other things I had failed to +grasp--his size, his appearance. I tell you he is Belisario Cardi." + +"God help me!" whispered the daughter of Ferara, crossing herself with +uncertain hand. She was staring affrightedly at Vittoria. "God help +me!" She kept repeating the words and gesture. + +Blake turned inquiringly to the other woman and read the truth in her +eyes. + +"Good Lord!" he cried. "He is her--" + +She nodded. "They were to be married." + +Oliveta began speaking slowly to her foster sister. "Yes, it is indeed +true. I have suspected something, but I dared not tell you all--the +things he said--all that I half learned and would not ask about. I was +afraid to know. I closed my eyes and my ears. Body of Christ! And all +the time my father's blood was on his hands!" + +Vittoria appealed helplessly to Blake. "You see how it is. What is to +be done?" + +But his attention was all centered upon Oliveta, whose face was +changing curiously. + +"His blood!" she exclaimed. "I have loved that infamous man. His +hands--" She let her gaze fall to her own, as if they too might be +stained from contact. + +"Does Maruffi know who you really are?" he asked. + +Vittoria answered; "No. She would have told him soon; we were waiting +until we had run down those men. You see, it was largely through her +that I worked. Those things which I could not discover she learned +from--him. It was she who secured the names of Di Marco and Garcia and +the others." + +Sudden enlightenment brought a cry from him. + +"You! Then you wrote those letters! You are the 'One Who Knows'?" + +Vittoria nodded; but her eyes were fixed upon the girl. + +Oliveta was whispering through white lips: "It is the will of God! He +has been delivered into my hands." + +"I am beginning to--" + +"Wait!" Vittoria did not withdraw her anxious gaze. After an instant +she inquired, gently, "Oliveta, what shall we do?" + +"There is but one thing to do." + +"You mean--" + +"I have been sent by God to betray him." Her face became convulsed, her +voice harsh. "I curse him, living and dead, in the name of my father, +in the name of Martel Savigno, who died by his hand. May he pray +unheard, may he burn in agony for a thousand thousand years. Take him +to the hangman, Signore. He shall die with my curse in his ears." + +"I can't bring him to justice," Blake confessed. "I know him to be the +assassin, but my mere word isn't enough to convict him. I have no way +of connecting him with the murder of Chief Donnelly, and that is what +he must answer for." + +Oliveta's lips writhed into a tortured smile. "Never fear, I shall +place the loop about his neck where my arms have lain. He has told me +little, for I feared to listen. But wait! Give me time." + +Vittoria cried in a shocked voice: "Child! Not--that," + +"It was from him I learned of Gian Narcone and his other friends; now I +shall learn from his own mouth the whole truth. He shall weave the rope +for his own destruction. Oh, he is like water in my hands, and I shall +lie in his arms--" + +"Lucrezia! You can't touch him--knowing--" + +"I will have the truth, if I give myself to him in payment, if I am +damned for eternity. God has chosen me!" + +She broke down into frightful sobs. With sisterly affection the other +woman put her arms about her and tried to soothe her. At length she led +her away, but for a long time Norvin could hear sounds of the peasant +girl's grief. When Vittoria reappeared her face was still pale and +troubled. + +"I can do nothing with her. She seems to think we are all divine +instruments." + +"Poor girl! She is in a frightful position. I'm too amazed to talk +sensibly. But surely she won't persist." + +"You do not know her; she is like iron. Even I have no power over her +now, and I--fear for the result. She is Sicilian to the core, she will +sacrifice her body, her soul, for vengeance, and that--man is a fiend." + +"It's better to know the truth now than later." + +"Yes, the web of chance has entangled our enemies and delivered them +bound into our hands. We cannot question the wisdom of that power which +wove the net. Oliveta is perhaps a stronger instrument than I; she will +never rest until her father is avenged." + +"The strangest part is that you are the 'One Who Knows,' You told me +you had given up the quest." + +"And so I had. I was weary of it. My life was bleak and empty. I could +not return to Sicily, because of the memories it held. We came South in +answer to the call of our blood, and I took up a work of love instead +of hate, while Oliveta found a new interest in this man, who was +wonderful and strong and fierce in his devotion to her. I attained to +that peace for which I had prayed. Then, when I was nearly ready for my +vows, my foster sister learned of Gian Narcone and came to me. We +talked long together, and I finally yielded to her demands--she is a +contadina, she never forgets--and I wrote that first letter to Mr. +Donnelly. I feared you might see and recognize my handwriting, so I +bought one of those new machines and learned to use it. What followed +you know. When we discovered that the Mafia had vowed to take Chief +Donnelly's life in payment for Narcone's, we were forced to go on or +have innocent blood upon our hands. + +"The Chief was killed in spite of our warnings, and then you appeared +as the head of his avengers--you--my truest friend, the brother of +Martel. I knew that the Mafia would have your life unless you crushed +it, and in a sense I was responsible for your danger. It seemed my duty +to help break up this accursed brotherhood, much as I wished that the +work might fall to other hands. Oliveta was eager for the struggle, and +while she fought for her vengeance, I--I fought to save you." + +"You did this for _me!_" he cried, falteringly. + +"Yes. My position at the hospital, my occupation made it easy for me to +learn many things. It was I who discovered the men who actually killed +Chief Donnelly; for Normando, after his injury, was brought there and I +attended him. I learned of his accomplices, where the boy, Gino Cressi, +was concealed, and other things. Lucrezia was a spy here among her +countrypeople, and Caesar was forever dropping bits of information, +though we never dreamed who he was." + +She went to the long French window, and, shading her eyes with her +hands, peered down into the dark street. + +"Then you have--thought of me," he urged. "You thought of me even +before we were drawn together by this net of chance?" + +"You have seldom been out of my thoughts," she told him, quietly. "You +were my only friend, and I live a lonely life." Turning with a wistful +smile, she asked: "And have you now and then remembered that Sicilian +girl you knew so long ago?" + +His voice was unruly; it broke as he replied: "Your face is always +before me, Contessa. I grew very tired of waiting, but I always felt +that I would find you." + +She gave him her two hands. "The thought of your affection and loyalty +has meant much to me; and it will always mean much. When I have entered +upon my new life and know that you are happy in yours--" + +"But I never shall be happy," he broke out, hoarsely. + +She stopped him with a grave look. + +"Please! You must go now. I will show you a way. So long as Cardi is at +liberty you must not return; the risks are too great for all of us. As +Oliveta learns the truth I shall advise you. Poor girl, she needs me +tonight. Come!" + +She led him through the house, down a stairway into the courtyard, and +directed him into a narrow passageway which led out to the street +behind. "Even this is not safe, for they may be waiting." She laid her +hand upon his arm and said, earnestly, "You will be careful?" + +"I will." + +He fought down the wild impulse to take her in his arms. As he skulked +through the gloom, searching the darkest shadows like a criminal, his +fear was gone, and in his heart was something singing joyously. + + + + +XIX + +FELICITE + + + +"You're just the man I'm looking for," Bernie Dreux told Norvin, whom +he chanced to meet on the following morning. "I've made a discovery." + +"Indeed! What is it?" + +"Hist! The walls have ears." Bernie cast a glance over his shoulder at +the busy, sunlit street and the hurrying crowds. "Come!" With a +melodramatic air he led Blake into a coffee-house near by. "You can't +guess it!" he exclaimed, when they were seated. + +"And what's more, I won't try. You're getting too mysterious, Bernie." + +"I've found him." + +"Whom?" + +"The bell-cow; the boss dago; the chief head-hunter; Belisario Cardi!" + +Blake started and the smile died from his lips. Dreux ran on with some +heat: + +"Oh, don't look so skeptical. Any man with intelligence and courage can +become as good a detective as I am. I've found your Capo-Mafia, that's +all." + +"Who is he?" + +"You won't believe me; but he's well thought of. You know him; O'Neil +knows him. He's generally trusted." + +Norvin began to suspect that by some freak of fortune his little friend +had indeed stumbled upon the truth. Dreux was leaning back in his chair +and beaming triumphantly. + +"Come, come! What's his name?" + +"Joe Poggi." + +"Poggi? He's the owner of that fruit-stand you've been watching." + +"Exactly! Chief Donnelly suspected him." + +"Nonsense!" Norvin's face was twitching once more. "Poggi is on the +force; he's a detective, like you." + +"Come off!" Bernie was shocked and incredulous. + +"Have you shadowed him for months without learning that he's an +officer?" + +"I--I--He's the fellow, just the same." + +"Oh, Bernie, you'd better stick to the antique business." + +Mr. Dreux flushed angrily. "If he isn't one of the gang," he cried, +"what was he doing with Salvatore di Marco and Frank Garcia the night +after Donnelly's murder? What's he doing now with Caesar Maruffi if he +isn't after him for money?" + +Blake's amusement suddenly gave place to eagerness. + +"Maruffi!" he exclaimed. "What's this?" + +"Joe Poggi is blackmailing Caesar Maruffi out of the money to defend +his friends. He was at di Marco's house an hour before Salvatore's +arrest. I saw him with Garcia and Bolla and Cardoni more than once." + +"Why didn't you tell this to O'Neil?" + +"I tried to, but he wouldn't listen. When I said I was a detective he +laughed in my face, and we had a scene. He told me I couldn't find a +ham at a Hebrew picnic. Since then I've been working alone. Poggi has +been lying low lately, but--" Bernie hesitated, and a slight flush +stole into his cheeks. "I've become acquainted with his wife--we're +good friends." + +"And what have you learned from her?" + +"Nothing directly; but I think she's acting as her husband's agent, +collecting blackmail to hire lawyers for the defense. Poor Caesar! he's +rich, and Poggi is bleeding him. Since Joe is on the police force he +knows every thing that goes on. No wonder you can't break up the Mafia!" + +"By Jove!" said Norvin. "I was warned of a leak in the department. But +it couldn't be Poggi!" + +He began to question Bernie with a peremptoriness and rapidity that +made the little man blink. Mingled with much that was grotesque and +irrelevant, he drew out a fairly credible story of nocturnal meetings +between the Italian detective and Caesar Maruffi, which, taken in +connection with what he already knew, was most disturbing. + +"How did you come to meet Mrs. Poggi?" he inquired, at last. + +The question brought that same flush to Mr. Dreux's cheeks. + +"She found I was following her one day," he explained, "so I told her I +was smitten by her beauty. I got away with it, too. Rather clever, for +an amateur, eh?" + +"Is she good-looking?" + +Bernie nodded. "She's an outrageous flirt, though, and--oh, what a +temper!" He shuddered nervously. "Why, she'd stick a knife into me or +bite my ears off if she suspected. She's insanely jealous." + +"It's not a nice position for you." + +"No. But I've something far worse than her on my hands--Felicite. She's +more to be feared than the Mafia." + +"Surely Miss Delord isn't dangerous." + +"Isn't she?" mocked the bachelor. "You ought to see--" He started, his +eyes fixed themselves upon the entrance to the cafe with a look of +horror, he paled and cast a hurried glance around as if in search of a +means of escape. "Here she is now!" + +Norvin turned to behold Miss Delord approaching them like an arrow. She +was a tiny creature, but it was plain that she was out in all her +fighting strength. Her pretty face was dark with passion, her eyes were +flashing, and they pierced her lover with a terrible glance as she +paused before him, crying furiously: + +"Well? Where is she?" + +"Felicite," stammered Dreux, "d-don't cause a scene." + +Miss Delord stamped a ridiculously small foot and cried again, +oblivious of all save her black jealousy: + +"Where is she, I say? Eh? You fear to answer. You shield her, perhaps." +A plump brown hand darted forth and seized Bernie by the ear, giving it +a tweak like the bite of a parrot. + +"Ouch!" he exclaimed, loudly. "Felicite, you'll ruin us!" + +A waiter began to laugh in smothered tones. + +"Tell me," stormed the diminutive fury. "It is time we had a +settlement, she and I. I will lead you to her by those ass's ears of +yours and let her hear the truth from your own mouth." + +"Miss Delord, you do Bernie an injustice," Norvin said, placatingly. + +She turned swiftly. "Injustice? Bah! He is a flirt, a loathsome +trifler. What could be more abominable?" + +"Felicite! D-don't make a scene," groaned the unhappy Dreux, nursing +his ear and staring about the cafe with frightened, appealing eyes. + +"Bernie was just--" + +"You defend him, eh?" stormed the creole girl. "You are his friend. +Beware, M'sieu, that I do not pull your ears also. I came here to +unmask him." + +"Please sit down. You're attracting attention." + +"Attention! Yes! But this is nothing to what will follow. I shall make +known his depravity to the whole city, for he has sweethearts like that +King Solomon of old. It is his beauty, M'sieu! Listen! He loves a +married woman! Imagine it!" + +"Felicite! For Heaven's sake--" + +"A dago woman by the name of Piggy. But wait, I shall make her squeal. +Piggy! A suitable name, indeed! He follows her about; he meets her +secretly; he adores her, the scoundrel! Is it not disgusting? But I am +no fool. I, too, have watched; I have followed them both, and I shall +scratch her black face until it bleeds, then I shall tell her husband +the whole truth." + +Miss Delord paused, out of breath for the moment, while Bernie pawed at +her in a futile manner. Beads of perspiration were gathering upon his +brow and he seemed upon the verge of swooning. As if from habit, +however, he reached forth a trembling hand and deftly replaced a loose +hairpin, then tucked in a stray lock which Felicite's vehemence had +disarranged. + +"Y-your hat's on one side, my dear," he told her. + +She tossed her head and drew away, saying, "Your touch contaminates +me--monster!" + +Blake drew out a chair for her; his eyes were twinkling as he said, +"Won't you allow him to explain?" + +"There is nothing to explain, since I know everything. See! His tongue +cleaves to the roof of his mouth. He quails! He cannot even lie! But +wait until I have told the Piggy's husband--that big, black +ruffian--then perhaps he will find his voice. Ah, if I had found that +woman here there would have been a scene, I promise you." + +"Help me--out," gasped Mr. Dreux, and Norvin came willingly to his +friend's rescue. + +"Bernie loves no one but you," he said. + +"So? I glory in the fact that I loathe him." + +"Please sit down." + +"No!" Miss Delord plumped herself down upon the edge of the proffered +seat, her toes bardy touching the floor. + +"I'm--working Mrs. Poggi," Bernie explained. "I'm a--detective." + +"What new falsehood is this?" + +"No falsehood at all," Norvin told her. "He is a detective--a very fine +one, too--and he has been working on the Mafia case for a long time. It +has been part of his work to follow the Poggis. Please don't allow your +jealousy to ruin everything." + +"I am not jealous. I merely will not let him love another, that is +all--But what is this you say?" Her velvet eyes had lost a little of +their hardness; they were as round as buttons and fixed inquiringly +upon the speaker. + +"You must believe me," he said, impressively, "though I can't tell you +more. Even of this you mustn't breathe a word to any one. Mr. Dreux has +had to permit this misunderstanding, much against his will, because of +the secrecy imposed upon him." + +With wonderful quickness the anger died out of Felicite's face, to be +replaced by a look of sweetness. + +"A detective!" she cried, turning to Bernie. "You work for the public +good, at the risk of your life? And that dago woman is one of the +Mafia? What a noble work! You forgive me?" + +Instantly Mr. Dreux's embarrassment left him and he assumed a chilling +haughtiness. + +"Forgive you? After such a scene? My dear girl, that's asking a good +deal." + +Felicite's lips trembled, her eyes, as they turned to Norvin, held such +an appeal that he hastened to reassure her. + +"Of course he forgives you. He's delighted that you care enough to be +jealous." + +Bernie grinned, whereupon his peppery sweetheart exploded angrily: + +"You delight in my unhappiness, villain! You enjoy my sufferings! Very +well! You have flirted; I shall flirt You drive me to distraction; I +shall behave accordingly. That Antoine Giroux worships me and would buy +a ring for me to-morrow if I would consent." + +"I'll murder him!" exclaimed Dreux, with more savagery than his friend +believed was in him. + +"Now, don't start all over again," Blake cautioned them. "You are mad +about each other--" + +"Nothing of the sort," declared Felicite. + +"At least Bernie worships you." + +The girl fell silent and beamed openly upon her lover. + +"Why don't you two end this sort of misunderstanding and--marry?" + +Miss Delord paled at this bold question. Dreux gasped and flushed +dully, but seemed to find no words. + +"That is impossible," he said, finally. + +"It's nothing of the sort," urged Blake. "You think you're happy this +way, but you're not and never will be. You're letting the best years of +your lives escape. Why care what people say if you're happy with each +other and unhappy when apart?" + +To his surprise, the girl turned upon him fiercely. "Do not torture +Bernie so," she cried. "There are reasons why he cannot marry. I love +him, he adores me; that is enough." Two tears gathered and stole down +her smooth cheeks. "You are cruel to hurt him so, M'sieu." + +"Bernie, you're a coward!" Blake said, with some degree of feeling, but +the girl flew once more to her lover's defense. + +"Coward, indeed! His bravery is unbelievable. Does he not risk his life +for this miserable Committee of yours? He has the courage of a thousand +lions." + +"I admire your loyalty--and of course it's really not my affair, +although--Why don't you go out to the park where the birds are singing, +and talk it all over? Those birds are always glad to welcome lovers. +Meanwhile I'll look into the Poggi matter." + +Bernie was glad enough to end the scene, and he arose with alacrity; +but his face was very red and he avoided the eye of his friend. As for +Miss Delord, now that her doubts were quelled, she was as sparkling and +as cheerful as an April morning. + +If Bernie Dreux supposed that his troubles for the day had ended with +that stormy scene in the cafe, he was greatly mistaken. He had promised +Felicite that he would fly to her with the coming of dusk, and that +neither the claims of duty nor of family should keep him from her side. +But that evening Myra Nell seized upon him as he was cautiously +tiptoeing past her door on his way out. The tone of her greeting gave +him an unpleasant start. + +"I want to talk with you, young man," she said. + +Now nobody, save Myra Nell, ever assumed the poetic license of calling +Bernie "young man," and even she did so only upon momentous occasions. +A quick glance at her face confirmed his premonition of an +uncomfortable half-hour. + +"I haven't a cent, really," he said, desperately. + +"This isn't about money." She was very grave. "It is something far more +serious." + +"Then what can it be?" he inquired, in a tone of mild surprise. + +But she deigned no explanation until she had led him into the library, +waved him imperiously to a seat upon the hair-cloth sofa, and composed +herself on a chair facing him. Reflecting that he was already late for +his appointment, he wriggled uncomfortably under her gaze. + +"Well?" she said, after a pause. Something in her bearing caused his +spirits to continue their downward course. Her brow was furrowed with a +somber portent. + +"Yes'm," he said, nervously, quite like a small schoolboy whose eyes +are fixed upon the sunshine outside. + +"I've heard the truth." + +"Yes'm," he repeated, vaguely. + +"Needless to say I'm crushed," + +Bernie slowly whitened as the meaning of his sister's words sank in. He +seemed to melt, to settle together, and his eyes filled with a strange, +hunted expression. + +"What are you talking about?" he demanded, thickly. + +"You know, very well." + +"Do I?" + +She nodded her head. + +"This is the first disgrace which has ever fallen upon us, and I'm +heartbroken." + +"I don't understand," he protested, in a voice so faint she could +scarcely hear him. But his pallor increased; he sat upon the edge of +the couch, clutching it nervously as if it had begun to move under him. +He really felt dizzy. Myra Nell had a bottle of smelling-salts in her +room, and he thought of asking her to fetch it. + +"Even yet I can't believe it of you," she continued. "The idea that +you, my protector, the one man upon whom I've always looked with +reverence and respect; you, my sole remaining relative.... The idea +that you should be entangled in a miserable intrigue.... Why, it's +appalling!" Her lips quivered, tears welled into her eyes, seeing which +the little man felt himself strangling. + +"Don't!" he cried, miserably. "I didn't think you'd ever find it out." +"I seem to be the only one who doesn't know all about it." Myra Nell +shuddered. + +"I simply couldn't help it," he told her. "I'm human and I've been in +love for years." + +"But think what people are saying." + +He passed a shaking hand over his forehead, which had grown damp. "One +never realizes the outcome of these things until too late. I hoped +you'd never discover it. I've done everything I could to conceal it." + +"That's the terrible part--your double life. Don't you know it's wrong, +wicked, vile? I can't really believe it of you. Why, you're my own +brother! The honor of our name rests upon you. The--the idea that you +should fall a victim to the wiles of a low, vulgar--" + +Bernie stiffened his back and his colorless eyes flashed. + +"Myra Nell, she's nothing like that!" he declared. "You don't know her." + +"Perhaps. But didn't you think of me?" He nodded his head. "Didn't you +realize it meant my social ruin?" Again he nodded, his mind in a whirl +of doubts and fears and furious regrets. "Nobody'll care to marry me +now. What do you think Lecompte will say?" + +"What the devil has Lecompte to do with it? You're engaged to Norvin +Blake." + +"Oh, yes, among the others." + +Bernie was too miserable to voice the indignation which such flippancy +evoked in him. He merely said: + +"Norvin isn't like the others. It's different with him; he compromised +you." + +"Yes. It was rather nice of him, but do you think he'll care to +continue our engagement after this?" + +"Oh, he's known about Felicite for a long time. Most of the fellows +know. That's what makes it so hard." + +This intelligence entirely robbed Myra Nell of words; she stared at her +half-brother as if trying to realize that the man who had made this +shocking admission was he. + +"Do you mean to tell me that your friends have known of this disgrace?" +she asked at length. + +Bernie nodded. "Of course it seems terrible to you, Myra Nell, for +you're innocent and unworldly, and I'm rather a dissipated old chap. +But I'm awfully lonely. The men of my own age are successful and busy +and they've all left me behind; the young ones don't find me +interesting. You see, I don't know anything, I can't do anything, I'm a +failure. Nobody cares anything about me, except you and Felicite I +found a haven in her society; her faith in me is splendid. To her I'm +all that's heroic and fine and manly, so when I'm with her I begin to +feel that I'm really all she believes, all that I hoped to be once upon +a time. She shares my dreams and I allow myself to believe in her +beliefs." + +"And yet you must realize that your conduct is shocking?" + +"I suppose I do." + +"You must know that you're an utterly immoral person?" He nodded. +"You're my protector, Bernie; you're all I have. I'm a poor motherless +girl and I lean upon you. But you must appreciate now that you're quite +unfit to act as my guardian." + +The little man wailed his miserable assent. His half-sister's +reproachful eyes distracted him; the mention of her defenseless +position before the world touched his sorest feeling. It was almost +more than he could stand, He was upon the verge of hysterical +breakdown, when her manner suddenly changed. + +Her eyes brightened, and, rising swiftly, she flung herself down beside +him upon the sofa, where he still sat clutching it as if it were a +bucking horse. Then, curling one foot under her, she bent toward him, +all eagerness, all impulsiveness. With breathless intensity she +inquired: + +"Tell me, Bunnie, is she pretty?" + +"Very pretty, indeed," he said, lamely. + +"What's she like? Quick! Tell me all about her. This is the wickedest +thing I ever heard of and I'm _perfectly_ delighted." + +It was Bernie's turn to look shocked. He arose indignantly. "Myra Nell! +You paralyze me. Have you no moral--" + +"Rats!" interrupted Miss Warren, inelegantly. "I've let you preach to +me in the past, but never again. We've the same blood in us, Bunnie. If +I were a man I dare say I'd do the most terrible things--although I've +never dreamed of anything so fiercely awful as this." + +"I should hope not," he gasped. + +"So come now, tell me everything. Does she pet you and call you funny +names and ruffle your hair the way I do?" + +Bernie assumed an attitude of military erectness. "It's bad enough for +me to be a reprobate in secret," he said, stiffly, "but I sha'n't allow +my own flesh and blood to share my shame and gloat over it." + +The girl's essential innocence, her child-like capacity for seeing only +the romance of a situation in which he himself recognized real +dishonor, made him feel ashamed, yet he was grateful that she took the +matter, after all, so lightly. His respite, however, was of short +duration. Failing to draw him out on the subject which held her +interest for the moment, Myra Nell followed the beckoning of a new +thought. Fixing her eyes meditatively upon him, she said, with mellow +satisfaction: + +"It seems we're both being gossiped about, dear." + +"You? What have _you_ been doing?" he demanded, in despair. + +"Oh, I really haven't done anything, but it's nearly as bad. There's a +report that Norvin Blake is paying all my Carnival bills, and naturally +it has occasioned talk. Of course I denied it; the idea is too +preposterous." + +Bernie, who had in a measure recovered his composure, felt himself +paling once more. + +"Amy Cline told me she'd heard that he actually bought my _dresses_, +but Amy is a catty creature. She's mad over Lecompte, you know; that's +why I encourage him; and she wanted to be Queen, too, but la, la, she's +so skinny! Well, I was furious, naturally--" Miss Warren paused, quick +to note the telltale signs in her brother's face. "Bernie!" she said. +"Look me in the eye!" Then--"It is true!" + +Her own eyes were round and horrified, her rosy cheeks lost something +of their healthy glow; for once in her capricious life she was not +acting. + +"I never dreamed you'd learn about it," her brother protested. "When +Norvin asked me if you'd like to be Queen I forbade him to mention it +to you, for I couldn't afford the expense. But he told you in spite of +me, and when I saw your heart was set on it--I--I just couldn't refuse. +I allowed him to loan me the money." + +"Bernie! Bernie!" Myra Nell rose and, turning her back upon him, stared +out of the window into the dusk of the evening. At length she said, +with a strange catch in her voice, "You're an anxious comfort, Bernie, +for an orphan girl." Another moment passed in silence before he +ventured: + +"You see, I knew he'd marry you sooner or later, so it wasn't really a +loan." He saw the color flood her neck and cheek at his words, but he +was unprepared for her reply. + +"I'll never marry him now; I'll never speak to him again." + +"Why not?" + +"Can't you understand? Do you think I'm entirely lacking in pride? What +kind of man can he be to _tell_ of his loan, to make it public that the +very dresses which cover me were bought with his money?" She turned +upon her half-brother with clenched hands and eyes which were gleaming +through tears of indignation. "I could _kill_ him for that." + +"He didn't tell," Bernie blurted out. + +"He must have. Nobody knew it except you--" Her eyes widened; she +hesitated. "You?" she gasped. + +It was indeed, the hour of Bernie's discomfiture. Myra Nell was his +divinity, and to confess his personal offense against her, to destroy +her faith in him, was the hardest thing he had ever done. But he was +gentleman enough not to spare himself. At the cost of an effort which +left him colorless he told her the truth. + +"I'd been drinking, that day of the quarantine. I thought I'd fix it so +he couldn't back out." + +Myra Nell's lips were white as she said, slowly, measuring him +meanwhile with a curious glance: + +"Well, I reckon you fixed it right enough; I reckon you fixed it so +that neither of us can back out." She turned and went slowly up-stairs, +past the badly done portraits of her people which stared down at her in +all their ancient pride. She carried her head high before them, but, +once in her room, she flung herself upon her bed and wept as if her +heart were breaking. + +Fortunately for Norvin Blake's peace of mind, he had no inkling of +Bernie's indiscretion nor of any change in Myra Nell. His work now +occupied his mind to the exclusion of everything else. While anxiously +waiting for some word from Oliveta he took up, with O'Neil, the +investigation of Joe Poggi, the Italian detective. Before definite +results had been obtained he was delighted to receive a visit from +Vittoria Fabrizi, who explained that she had risked coming to see him +because she dared not trust the mails and feared to bring him into the +foreign quarter. + +"Then Oliveta has made some progress?" he asked, eagerly. + +"Yes." + +"Good! Poor girl, it must be terribly hard for her to play such a part." + +"No one knows how hard it has been. You would not recognize her, she +has changed so. Her love, for which we were so deeply thankful, has +turned into bitter hate. It was a long time before she dared trust +herself with Maruffi, for always she saw the blood of her father upon +his hands. But she is Sicilian, she turned to stone and finally +welcomed his caresses. Ah! that man will suffer for what he has made +her endure." + +Blake inquired, curiously, "Does he really love her?" + +"Yes. That is the strangest part of the whole affair. It is the one +good thing in his character, the bit of gold in that queer alloy which +goes to make him up. Perhaps if he had met her when he was younger, +love would have made him a different man. In her hands he is like wax; +he is simple, childlike; he fawns upon her, he would shower her with +gifts and attentions; yet underneath there is that streak of devilish +cunning." + +"What has he told, so far?" + +"Much that is significant, little that is definite. We have pieced his +words together, bit by bit, and uncovered his life an inch at a time. +It was he who paid the blood money to di Marco and Bolla--thousand +dollars." + +"A thousand dollars for the life of Dan Donnelly!" + +The Countess lowered her yellow head. "They in turn hired Larubio, +Normando, and the rest. The chain is complete." + +"Then all that remains is to prove it, link by link, before arresting +him." + +"Is not Oliveta's word sufficient proof?" + +"No." Blake paced his office silently, followed by the anxious gaze of +his caller. At length he asked, "Will she take the stand at the trial?" + +"Heaven forbid! Nothing could induce her to do so. That is no part of +her scheme of vengeance, you understand? Being Sicilian, she will work +only in her own way. Besides--that would mean the disclosure of her +identity and mine." + +"I feared as much. In that case every point which Maruffi confesses to +her must be verified by other means. That will not be easy, but I dare +say it can be done." + +"The law is such a stupid thing!" exclaimed Vittoria. "It has no eyes, +it will not reason, it cannot multiply nor add; it must be led by the +hand like a blind old man and be told that two and two make four. +However, I have a plan." + +"I confess that I see no way. What do you advise?" + +"These accused men are in the Parish prison, yes? Very well. Imprison +spies with them who will gain their confidence. In that way we can +verify Maruffi's words." + +"That's not so easily done. There is no certainty that they would make +damaging admissions." + +"Men who dwell constantly with thoughts of their guilt feel the need of +talking. The mind is incapable of continued silence; it must +communicate the things that weigh it down. Let the imprisoned Mafiosi +mingle with one another freely whenever ears are open near by, and you +will surely get results." Seeing him frown in thought, she continued, +after a moment, "You told me of a great detective agency--one which +sent that man Corte here to betray Narcone." + +"Yes, the Pinkertons. I was thinking of them. I believe it can be done. +At any rate, leave it to me to try, and if I succeed no one shall know +about it, not even our own police. When our spies enter the prison, if +they do, it will be in a way to inspire confidence among the Mafiosi. +Meanwhile, do you think you are entirely safe in that foreign quarter?" + +"Quite safe, although the situation is trying. I have felt the strain +almost as deeply as my unfortunate sister." + +"And when it is all over you will be ready for your vows?" + +Her answer gave no sign of the hesitation he had hoped for and half +expected. + +"Of course." + +He shook his head doubtfully. "Somehow, I--I feel that fate will keep +you from that life; I cannot think of you as a Sister of Mercy." In +spite of himself his voice was uneven and his eyes were alight with the +hope which she so steadfastly refused to recognize. + +As she rose to leave she said, musingly, "How strange it is that this +master of crime and intrigue should betray himself through the one good +and unselfish emotion of his life!" + +"Samson was shorn of his strength by the fingers of a woman," he said. + +"Yes. Many good men have been betrayed by evil women, but it is not +often that evil men meet their punishment through good ones. And now--a +riverderci." + +"Good-by, for a few days." He pressed his lips lightly to her fingers. + + + + +XX + +THE MAN IN THE SHADOWS + + + +Late one day, a fortnight after her visit to Blake's office, Vittoria +returned from a call upon Myra Nell Warren, to find Oliveta in a high +state of apprehension. The girl, who had evidently kept watch for her, +met her at the door, and inquired, nervously: + +"What news? What have you heard?" + +"Nothing further, sorella mia." + +"Impossible! God in Heaven! I am dying! This suspense--I cannot endure +it longer." + +Vittoria laid a comforting hand upon her. + +"Courage!" she said. "We can only wait. I too am torn by a thousand +demons. Caesar has gone, but no one knows where." + +Oliveta shuddered. "We are ruined. He suspects." + +"So you have said before, but how could he suspect?" + +"I don't know, yet judge for yourself. I worm his secrets from him at +the cost of kisses and endearments; I hold him in my arms and with +smiles and caresses I lead him to betray himself. Then, suddenly, +without warning or farewell, he vanishes. I tell you he knows. He has +the cunning of the fiend, and your friend Signore Blake has blundered." +Oliveta's face blanched with terror. She clung to her companion weakly, +repeating over and over: "He will return. God help us, he will return." + +"Even though he knows the truth, which is far from likely, he would +scarcely dare to come here," Vittoria said, striving with a show of +confidence which she did not feel to calm her foster sister. + +"You do not know him as I do. You do not know the furies which goad him +in his anger." + +In spite of herself Vittoria felt choked again by those fears which +during the days since Maruffi's disappearance she had with difficulty +controlled. She knew that the net had been spread for him in all +caution, yet he had slipped through it. Whether he had been warned or +whether mere chance had taken him from the city at the last moment, +neither she, nor Blake, nor the Chief of Police had been able to learn. +All had been done with such secrecy that, except a bare half-dozen +trusted officers, no one knew him to be even suspected of a part in the +Mafia's affairs. Norvin had been quick to sense the possible danger to +the two women, and had urged them to accept his protection; but they +had convinced him that such a course had its own dangers, for in case +the Mafioso was really unsuspicious the slightest indiscretion on their +part might frighten him. Therefore they had insisted upon living as +usual until something more definite was known. + +This afternoon Vittoria had received a message from Myra Nell, +requesting, or rather demanding, her immediate attendance. She had gone +gladly, hoping to divert her mind from its present anxieties; but the +girl had talked of little except Norvin Blake and the effect had not +been calming. + +Oliveta soon discovered that her sister was in a state to receive +rather than give consolation. + +"Carissima, you are ill!" she said with concern. + +Vittoria assented. "It is my eyes--my head. The heat is perhaps as much +to blame as our many worries." She removed her hat and pressed slender +fingers to her throbbing temples, while Oliveta drew the curtains +against the fierce rays of a westering sun. Later, clad in a loose +silken robe, Vittoria flung herself upon the low couch and her +companion let down her luxuriant masses of hair until it enveloped her +like a cloud. She lay back upon the cushions in grateful relaxation, +while Oliveta combed and brushed the braids, soothing her with an +occasional touch of cool palms or straying fingers. + +"How strange that both our lives should have been blighted by this +man!" the peasant girl said at length. + +"'Sh-h! You must not think of him so unceasingly," Vittoria warned her. + +"One's thoughts go where they will when one is sick and wearied. I have +grown to hate everything about me--the people, the life, the country." + +"Sicily is calling you, perhaps?" + +Oliveta answered eagerly, "Yes! You, too, are unhappy, my dearest. Let +us go home. Home!" She let her hands fall idle and stared ahead of her, +seeing the purple hills behind Terranova, the dusty gray-green groves +of olive-trees, the brilliant fields of sumach, the arbors bent beneath +their weight of blushing fruit. "I want to see the village people +again, my father's relatives, old Aliandro, and the Notary's little +boy--" + +"He must be a well-grown lad, by now," murmured Vittoria. "Aliandro, I +fear, is dead. But it is a long road to Terranova; we have--changed." + +"Yes--everything has changed. My happiness has changed to misery, my +hope to despair, my love to hate." + +"Poor sister mine!" Vittoria sympathized. "Be patient. No wound is too +deep for time to heal. The scar will remain, but the pain will +disappear. I should know, for I have suffered." + +"And do you suffer no longer? It has been a long time since you +mentioned--Martel." + +For a moment Vittoria remained silent, her eyes closed. When she +replied it was not in answer to the question. "I can never return to +Sicily, for it would awaken nothing but distress in me. But there is no +reason why you should not go if you wish. You have the means, while all +that I had has been given to the Sisters." + +Oliveta cried out at this passionately. "I have nothing. That which you +gave me I hold only for you. But I would not go alone; I shall never +leave you." + +"Some time you must, my dear. Our parting is not far off." + +"I am not sure." The peasant girl hesitated. "Deep in your heart, do +you hope to find peace inside the walls of that hospital?" + +"Yes--peace, at least; perhaps contentment and happiness also." + +"That is impossible," said Oliveta, at which Vittoria's hazel eyes flew +open. + +"Eh? Why not?" + +"Because you love this Signore Blake!" + +"Oliveta! You are losing your wits." + +"Perhaps! But I have not lost my eyes. As for him, he loved you even in +Sicily." + +"What then?" + +"He is a fine man. I think you could hear an echo to the love you +cherished for Martel, if you but listened." + +Vittoria gazed at her foster-sister with a look half tender and half +stern. Her voice had lost some of its languid indifference when she +replied: + +"Any feeling I might have would indeed be no more than an echo. I--am +not like other women; something in me is dead--it is the power to love +as women love. I am like a person who emerges from a conflagration, +blinded; the eyes are there, but the sight is gone." + +"Perhaps you only sleep, like the princess who waited for a kiss--" + +Vittoria interrupted impatiently: "No, no! And you mistake his +feelings. I attract him, perhaps, but he loves Miss Warren and has +asked her to marry him. What is more, she adores him and--they were +made for each other." + +"She adores him!" echoed the other. "Che Dio! She only plays at love. +Her affections are as shifting as the winds." + +"That may be. But he is in earnest. It was he who gave her this social +triumph--he made her Queen of the Carnival. He even bought her dresses. +It was that which caused her to send for me this afternoon. Heaven +knows I was in no mood to listen, but she chattered like a magpie. As +if I could advise her wisely!" + +"She is very dear to you," Oliveta ventured. + +"Indeed, yes. She shares with you all the love that is left in me." + +"I think I understand. You have principles, my sister. You have +purposely barred the way to your fairy prince, and will continue +sleeping." + +Vittoria's brow showed faint lines, but whether of pain or annoyance it +was hard to tell. + +Oliveta sighed. "What evil fortune overhangs us that we should be +denied love!" + +"Please! Let us speak no more of it." She turned her face away and for +a long time her companion soothed her with silent ministrations. +Meanwhile the dusk settled, the golden flames died out of the western +windows, the room darkened. Seeing that her patient slept, Oliveta +arose and with noiseless step went to a little shrine which hung on the +wall. She knelt before the figure of the Virgin, whispering a prayer, +then lit a fresh candle for her sister's pain and left the room, partly +closing the door behind her. + +She had allowed the maid-servant to go for the afternoon, and found, +upon examination, that the day's marketing had been neglected. There +was still time, however, in which to secure some delicacies to tempt +Vittoria's taste so she flung a shawl over her dark hair and descended +softly to the street. + +A little earlier on this same afternoon, as Norvin Blake sat at work in +his office, the telephone bell roused him from deep thought. He seized +the instrument eagerly, hoping for any news that would relieve the +tension upon his nerves. For uncertainty as to Maruffi's whereabouts +had weighed heavily upon him, especially in view of the possible danger +to the woman he loved and to her devoted companion. The voice of O'Neil +came over the wire, full-toned and distinct: + +"Hello! Is this Blake?"--and then, "We've got Maruffi!" + +"When? Where?" shouted Norvin. + +"Five minutes ago; at his own house. Johnson and Dean have been +watching the place. He went with them like a lamb, too. They've just +'phoned me that they're all on their way here." + +"Good! Do you need me?" + +"No! See you later. Good-by!" + +The Acting Chief slammed up his receiver, leaving his hearer stunned at +the suddenness of this long-awaited denouement. + +Maruffi taken! His race run! Then this was the end of the fight! A +ferocious triumph flooded Norvin's brain. With Belisario Cardi in the +hands of the law the spell of the Mafia was broken. Savigno and +Donnelly were as good as avenged. He experienced an odd feeling of +relaxation, as if both his body and brain were cramped and tired with +waiting. Then, realizing that the Countess and Oliveta must have +suffered an even greater strain, he set out at once to give them the +news in person. + +As he turned swiftly into Royal Street he encountered O'Connell, who, +noting his haste and something unusual in his bearing, detained him to +ask the cause. + +"Haven't you heard?" exclaimed Norvin. "Maruffi's captured at last." + +"You don't mean it!" + +"Yes. O'Neil told me over the wire not ten minutes ago." + +O'Connell fell into step with him, saying, incredulously: "And he came +without a fight? Lord! I can't believe it." + +"Nor I. I expected trouble with him." + +"Sure! I thought he was a bad one, but that's the way it goes +sometimes. I reckon he saw he had no chance." The officer shook his red +head. "It's just my blamed luck to miss the fun." O'Connell was one of +the few who had been first trusted with the news of Maruffi's identity, +and for the past fortnight he had been casting high and low for the +Sicilian's trail. Ever since that October night when he had supported +Donnelly in his arms as the life ebbed from the Chief, ever since he +had knelt on the soft banquette with the sting of powder smoke in his +nostrils, he had been obsessed by a fanatical desire to be in at the +death of his friend's murderers. He left Blake at his destination and +hurried on toward St. Phillip Street in the vague hope that he might +not be too late to take a hand in some part of the proceedings. + +Blake's hand was upon Oliveta's bell when the door opened and she +confronted him. Her start, her frightened cry, gave evidence of the +nervous dread under which she labored. + +"Don't be afraid, Oliveta," he said, quickly. "I come with news--good +news." + +She swayed and groped blindly for support. He put out his hand to +sustain her, but she shrank away from him, saying, faintly: "Then he is +captured? God be praised!" + +In spite of the words, her eyes filmed over with tears, a look of +abject misery bared itself upon her face. + +"Where is the Countess?" + +"Above--resting. Come; she, too, will rejoice." + +"Let me take her the news. You were going out, and--I think the air +will do you good. Be brave, Oliveta; you have done your share, and +there's nothing more to fear." + +She acquiesced dully; her olive features were ghastly as she felt her +way past him; she walked like a sick woman. + +He watched her pityingly for a moment, then mounted the stairs. As he +laid his hand upon the door it gave to his touch and he stood upon the +threshold of the parlor. Vittoria's name was upon his lips when, by the +dim evening light which came through the drawn curtains and by the +faint illumination from the solitary shrine candle, he saw her +recumbent form upon the couch. + +She was lying in an attitude of complete relaxation, her sun-gilded +hair straying in long thick braids below her waist, Those tawny ropes +were of a length and thickness to bind a man about the body. Her lips +were slightly parted; her lashes lay like dark shadows against her +ivory cheeks. + +He was swept by a sudden awed abashment. The impulse to retreat came +over him, but he lacked the will. The longing which had remained so +strong in him through years of denial, governing the whole course of +his life, blazed up in him now and increased with every heartbeat. He +found that without willing it he had come close to the couch. The +girl's slim hand lay upon the cushions, limply upturned to him; it was +half open and there sprang through him an ungovernable desire to bury +his lips in its rosy palm. He knelt, then quailed and recovered +himself. At the same instant she stirred and, to his incredulous +delight, whispered his name. + +A wild exultation shot through him. Why not yield to this madness, he +asked himself, dizzily. The long struggle was over now. For this +woman's sake he had repeatedly played the part of bravery in a fever of +fear. He had done what he had done to make himself worthy of her, and +now, at the last, he was to have nothing--absolutely nothing, except a +memory. Against these thoughts his notions of honorable conduct hastily +and confusedly arrayed themselves. But he was in no state to reason. +The same enchantment, half psychic, half physical, ethereal yet +strongly human, that had mastered him in the old Sicilian days, was at +work upon him now. Dimly he felt that so mighty and natural a thing +ought not to be resisted. He stood stiffly like a man spellbound. + +It may have been Oliveta's accusation that affected the course of the +sleeping woman's thoughts, it may have been that she felt the man's +nearness, or that some influence passed from his mind to hers. However +it was, she spoke his name again, her fingers closed over his, she drew +him toward her. + +He yielded; her warm breath beat upon his face; then the last atoms of +self-restraint fled away from him like sparks before a fierce night +wind. A fiery madness coursed through his veins as he caught her to +him. Her lips were fevered with sleep. For a moment the caress seemed +real; it was the climax of his hopes, the attainment of his longings. +He crushed her in his arms; her hair blinded him; he buried his face in +it, kissing her brow, her cheek, the curve where neck and shoulder met, +and all the time he was speaking her name with hoarse tenderness. + +So strangely had the fanciful merged into the real that the girl was +slow in waking. Her eyelids fluttered, her breast rose and fell +tumultuously, and even while her wits were struggling back to reality +her arms clung to him. But the transition was brief. Her eyes opened, +and she stiffened as with the shock of an electric current. A cry, a +swift, writhing movement, and she was upon her feet, his incoherent +words beating upon her ears but making no impression upon her brain. + +"_You_! God above!" she cried. + +She faced him, white, terror-stricken, yet splendid in her anger. She +was still dazed, but horror and dismay leaped quickly into her eyes. + +"Margherita! You called me. You drew me to you. It was your real self +that spoke--I know it." + +"You--kissed me while--I slept!" + +He paled at the look with which she scorched him, then broke out, +doggedly: + +"You wanted me; you drew me close. You can't undo that moment--you +can't. My God! Don't tell me it was all a mistake. That would make it +unendurable. I could never forgive myself." + +She hid her face with a choking cry of shame. "No, no! I didn't know--" + +He approached and touched her arm timidly. "Margherita," he said, "if I +thought you really did not call me--if I were made to believe that I +had committed an unpardonable offense against your womanhood and our +friendship--I would go and kill myself. But somehow I cannot believe +that. I was beside myself--but I was never more exalted. Something +greater than my own will made me do as I did. I think it was your love +answering to mine. If that is not so--if it is all a delusion--there is +nothing left for me. I have played my part out to the end. My work is +done, and I do not see how I can go on living." + +There was an odd mingling of pain and rapture in the gaze she raised to +his. It gave him courage. + +"Why struggle longer?" he urged, gently. "Why turn from love when +Heaven wills you to receive it and learn to be a woman? I was in your +thoughts and you longed for me, as I have never ceased, all these +years, to hunger for you. Please! Please! Margherita! Why fight it +longer?" + +"What have you done? What have you done?" she whispered over and over. +She looked toward the open door as if with thought of escape or +assistance, and despite his growing hope Blake was miserable at sight +of her distress. + +"How came you here, alone with me?" she asked at length. "Oliveta was +here only a moment ago." + +"I came with good news for both of you. I met Oliveta as she went out, +and when I had told her she sent me to you. Don't you understand, dear? +It was good news. Our quest is over, our work is done, and God has seen +fit to deliver our enemy--" + +She flung out a trembling hand, while the other hid itself in the silk +and lace at her breast. + +"What is this you tell me? Maruffi? Am I still dreaming?" + +"Maruffi has been arrested." + +"Is it possible?--this long nightmare ended at last like this? Maruffi +is arrested? You are safe? No one has been killed?" + +"It is all right. O'Neil telephoned me and I came here at once to tell +you and Oliveta." + +"When did they find him? Where?" + +"Not half an hour ago--at his house. We have been watching the place +ever since he disappeared, feeling sure he'd have to return sooner or +later, if only for a moment. He is under lock and key at this instant." + +Blake attributed a stir in the hall outside to the presence of the +maid-servant; Margherita, whose eyes were fixed upon him, failed to +detect a figure which stood in the shadow just beyond the open door. + +"Does he know of our part in it--Oliveta's part?" she asked. + +"O'Neil didn't say. He'll learn of it shortly, in any event. Do you +realize what his capture means? I--hardly do myself. For one thing, +there's no further need of concealment. I--I want people to know who +you are. It seems hardly conceivable that Belisario Cardi has gone to +meet his punishment, but it is true. Lucrezia has her revenge at last. +It has been a terrible task for all of us, but it brought you and me +together. I don't intend ever to let you go again, Margherita. I loved +you there in Sicily. I've loved you every moment, every hour--" + +Blake turned at the sound of a door closing behind him. He saw +Margherita start, then lean forward staring past him with a look of +amazement, of frightened incredulity, upon her face. Some one, a man, +had stepped into the dim-lit room and was fumbling with the lock, his +eyes fixed upon them, meanwhile, over his shoulder. The light from the +windows had faded, the faint illumination from the taper before the +shrine was insufficient fully to pierce the gloom. But on the instant +of his interruption all triumph and hope, all thoughts of love, fled +from Norvin's mind, bursting like iridescent bubbles, at a touch. The +flesh along his back writhed, the hair at his neck lifted itself; for +there in the shadow, huge, black, and silent, stood Caesar Maruffi. + + + + +XXI + +UNDER FIRE + + + +Blake heard Margherita's breath release itself. She was staring as if +at an apparition. His mind, working with feverish speed, sought vainly +to grasp the situation. Maruffi had broken away and come for his +vengeance, but how or why this had been made possible he could not +conceive. It sufficed that the man was here in the flesh, sinister, +terrible, malignant as hell. Blake knew that the ultimate test of his +courage had come. + +He felt the beginnings of that same shuddering, sickening weakness with +which he was only too familiar; felt the strength running out from his +body as water escapes from a broken vessel. He froze with the sense of +his physical impotency, and yet despite this chaos of conflicting +emotions his inner mind was clear; it was bitter, too, with a ferocious +self-disgust. + +There was a breathless pause before Maruffi spoke. + +"Lucrezia Ferara!" he said, hoarsely, as if wishing to test the sound +of the name. "So Oliveta is the daughter of the overseer, and you are +Savigno's sweetheart." His words were directed at Margherita, who +answered in a thin, shrill, broken voice: + +"What--are you doing--here?" + +"I came for that wanton's blood. Give her to me." + +"Oliveta? She is--gone." + +The Sicilian cursed. "Gone? Where?" + +"Away. Into the street. You--you cannot find her." + +"Christ!" Maruffi reached upward and tore open the collar of his shirt. + +Blake spoke for the first time, but his voice was dead and lifeless. + +"Yes. She's gone. You're wanted. You must go with me!" + +Maruffi gave a snarling, growling cry and his gesture showed that he +was armed. Involuntarily Blake shrank back; his hand groped for his +hip, but, half-way, encountered the pile of silken cushions upon which +Margherita had been lying; his fingers sank into them nervously, his +other hand gripped the carven footboard of the couch. He had no weapon. +He had not dreamed of such a necessity. + +In this imminent peril a new fear swept over him greater than any he +had ever known. It was not the fear of death. It was something far +worse. For the moment, it seemed to him inevitable that Margherita +Ginini should, at last, learn the truth concerning him, should see him +as he was that night at Terranova. Swift upon the heels of his +long-deferred declaration of love would come the proof that he was a +craven. Then he thought of her danger, realizing that this man was +quite capable in his fury of killing her, too, and he stiffened in +every fiber. His cowardice fell away from him like a rotten garment, +and he stood erect. + +Maruffi, it seemed, had not heard his last words, or else his mind was +still set upon Oliveta. "Gone!" he exclaimed. "Then I shall not see her +face grow black within my fingers--not yet. God! How I ran!" He cursed +again. "But I shall not fare so badly, after all." He stirred, and with +his movement Blake flew to action. Swiftly, with one sweep of his right +hand, he brought the silken cushions up before his breast and lunged at +his enemy. At the same instant Maruffi fired. + +In the closed room the detonation was deafening; it rattled the +windows, it seemed to bulge the very walls. Blake felt a heavy blow +which drove the floss-filled pillows against his body with the force of +a giant hammer, it tore them from his grip, it crushed the breath from +his lungs and spun him half around. Seeing that he did not fall, +Maruffi cocked and fired a second time without aiming, but his victim +was upon him like a tiger and together they crashed back against the +wall, locked in each other's arms. + +Blake's will propelled him splendidly. All that indecision with which +fear works upon the mind had left him, but the old contraction of his +nerves still hampered his action. The blaze from Maruffi's second shot +half blinded him and its breath smote him like a blow. + +"Two!" he counted, wonderingly. A pain in his left side, due to that +first sledge-hammer impact, was spreading slowly, but he had crossed +the room under the belching muzzle of the revolver and was practically +unharmed. + +There began a struggle--the more terrible since it was unequal--in +which the weaker man had to drive his body at the cost of tremendous +effort. Blake was like a leader commanding troops which had begun to +retreat. But more power came to him under the spur of action and the +pressing realization that he must give Margherita a chance to get +safely away. If he could not wrest the weapon from Maruffi's hands he +knew that he must receive those four remaining bullets in his own body. +He rather doubted that he could take that weight of lead. + +He shouted to her to run, while he wrestled for possession of the gun. +He had flung his right arm about his adversary's body, his other hand +gripped his wrist; his head was pressed against Maruffi's chest. The +weapon described swift circles, jerking parabolas and figures as the +men strained to wrest it from each other. Maruffi strove violently to +free his imprisoned hand, and in doing so he discharged the revolver a +third time. The bullet brought a shower of plaster from the ceiling, +and Blake counted with fierce exultation, + +"Three!" + +He gasped his warning to the woman again, then twined his leg about his +antagonist's in a wrestler's hold, striving mightily to bear Maruffi +against the wall. But Caesar was like an oak-tree. Failing to move him, +Blake suddenly flung himself backward, with all his weight, lifting at +the same instant in the hope of a fall. In this he was all but +successful. The two reeled out into the room, tripped, went to their +knees, then rose, still intertwined in that desperate embrace. The odd, +stiff feeling in Blake's side had increased rapidly; it began to numb +his muscles and squeeze his lungs. His eyes were stinging with sweat +and smoke; his ears were roaring. As they swayed and turned he saw that +Margherita had made no effort to escape and he was seized with an +extraordinary rage, which for a brief time renewed his strength. + +She was at the front window crying for help. + +"Jump! For--God's sake, jump!" he shouted, but she did not obey. +Instead she ran toward the combatants and seized Maruffi's free arm, in +a measure checking his effort to break the other man's hold. Her +closeness to danger agonized Blake, the more as he felt his own +strength ebbing, under that stabbing pain in his side. He centered his +force in the grip of his left hand, clinging doggedly while the +Sicilian flung his two assailants here and there as a dog worries a +scarf. + +Blake fancied he heard a stamping of feet in the hall outside and the +sound of voices, of heavy bodies crashing against the door. Maruffi +heard it, too, for with a bellow of fury he redoubled his exertions. A +sweep of his arm flung the girl aside; with a mighty wrench of his body +he carried Blake half across the room, loosening his hold. Then he +seized him by the throat and forced his head back. + +[Illustration: He wrestled for possession of the gun] + +The shouting outside was increasing, the pounding was growing louder. +Blake's breath was cut off and his strength went swiftly; his death +grip on the Sicilian's body slackened. As he tore at the fingers which +were throttling him, his left hand slipped, citing to Maruffi's sleeve, +and finally began clawing blindly for the weapon. The next moment he +was hurled aside, so violently that he fell, his feet entangled in the +cushions with which he had defended himself against the first shot. + +He rose and renewed his attack, hearing Margherita cry out in horror. +This time Maruffi took deliberate aim, and when he fired the figure +lurching toward him was halted as if by some giant fist. + +"Four!" Blake counted. He was hit, he knew, but he still had strength; +there were but two more shots to come. Then he was dazed to find +himself upon his knees. As if through a film he saw the Italian turn +away and raise his weapon toward the girl, who was wrenching at the +door. + +"Maruffi!" he shouted. "Oh, God!" then he closed his eyes to shut out +what followed. But he heard nothing, for he slipped forward, face down, +and felt himself falling, falling, into silence and oblivion. + +As O'Connell made his way toward St. Phillip Street he nursed a growing +resentment at the news Norvin Blake had given him. His feeling toward +Caesar Maruffi had all the fierceness of private hatred, calling for +revenge, and he considered himself ill-used in that he had not even +been permitted to witness the arrest. He knew Maruffi's countrymen +would be likely to make a demonstration, and he was grimly desirous of +being present when this occurred. + +As he neared the heart of the Italian section he saw a blue-coated +officer running toward him. + +"What's up?" he cried. "Have the dagoes started something?" + +"Maruffi was pinched, but he got away," the other answered. "Johnson is +hurt, and--" + +O'Connell lost the remaining words, for he had broken into a run. + +A crowd had gathered in front of a little shop where the wounded +policeman had been carried to await the arrival of an ambulance, and +even before O'Connell had heard the full story of the escape +Acting-Chief O'Neil drove up behind a lathered horse. He leaped from +his mud-stained buggy, demanding, hoarsely: + +"Where is he--Maruffi?" + +Officer Dean, Johnson's companion, met him at the door of the shop. + +"He made his break while I was 'phoning you," he answered. + +"Hell! Didn't you frisk him?" roared the Chief. + +"Sure! But we missed his gun." + +"Caesar carries it on a cord around his neck--nigger-fashion," briefly +explained O'Connell. + +Dean was running on excitedly: "I heard Johnson holler, but before I +could get out into the street Maruffi had shot him twice and was into +that alley yonder. I tried to follow, but lost him, so I came back and +sent in the alarm." + +The Acting Chief cursed under his breath, and with a few sharp orders +hurried off the few officers who had reached the scene. Then as an +ambulance appeared he passed into the room where Johnson lay. As he +emerged a moment later O'Connell drew him aside. + +"Maruffi won't try to leave town till it's good and dark," he said. +"He's got a girl, and I've an idea he'll ask her to hide him out." + +"It was his girl who turned him up--she and Blake--" + +O'Connell cried, sharply: "Wait! Does he know she did that? If he does, +he'll make for her, sure." + +"That may be. Those two women are all alone, and I'd feel better if +they were safely out of the way. I'll leave you there on the way back." + +An instant later they were clattering over the uneven flags while their +vehicle rocked and bounded in a way that threatened to hurl them out. + +Even before they reached their destination they saw people running +through the dusk toward the house in which the two girls lived and +heard a shot muffled behind walls. O'Neil reined the horse to his +haunches as the shrill cry of a woman rang out above them, and the next +moment he and O'Connell were inside, rushing up the stairs with +headlong haste. They were brought to a stop before a bolted door from +behind which came the sounds of a furious struggle. + +"Blake! Norvin Blake!" shouted O'Connell. + +"Break it down!" O'Neil ordered. He set his back against the opposite +wall, then launched himself like a catapult. The patrolman followed +suit, but although the panels strained and split the heavy door held. + +"By God! he's in there!" the Chief cried, as he set his shoulder to the +barrier for a second time. "Once more! Together!" Through a crevice +which had opened in the upper panels they caught a glimpse of the dimly +lighted room. What they saw made them struggle like madmen. + +Another shot sounded, and O'Neil in desperation inserted his fingers in +the opening and tore at it. Through the aperture O'Connell saw Maruffi +run to an open window at the rear, then pause long enough to snatch the +taper from its sconce at the foot of the little shrine and, stooping, +touch its flame to the long lace curtains. They promptly flashed into a +blaze. Parting them, he bestrode, the sill, lowered himself outside, +and disappeared. It was an old but effective ruse to delay pursuit. + +"Quick! He's set fire to the place," O'Connell gasped, and dashed down +the hall. + +A tremendous final heave of O'Neil's body cleared his way, a few +strides and he was at the window, ripping the blazing hangings down and +flinging them into the court below. When he turned it was to behold in +the dim twilight Vittoria Fabrizi kneeling beside Blake. Her arms were +about him, her yellow hair entwined his figure. + +"A light! Somebody get a light!" the Chief roared to those who had +followed him up the stairs, then seeing a lamp near by he lit it +hurriedly, revealing the full disorder of the room. He knelt beside +Vittoria, who drew the fallen man closer to her, moaning something in +Italian which O'Neil could not understand. But her look told him +enough, and, rising, he ordered some one to run for a doctor. +Strangers, white-faced and horrified, were crowding in; the sound of +other feet came from the stairs outside, questions and explanations +were noisily exchanged. O'Neil swore roundly at the crowd and drove it +ahead of him down into the street, where he set a man to guard the +door. Then he returned and helped the girl examine her lover's wounds. +Her fingers were steady and sure, but in her face was such an +abandonment of grief as he had never seen, and her voice was little +more than a rasping whisper. They were still working when the doctor +came, followed a moment later by a disheveled, stricken figure of +tragedy which O'Neil recognized as Oliveta. + +At sight of her foster-sister the peasant girl broke into a passion of +weeping, but Vittoria checked her with an imperious word, meanwhile +keeping her tortured eyes upon the physician. She waited upon him, +forestalling his every thought and need with a mechanical dexterity +that bore witness to her training, but all the while her eyes held a +pitiful entreaty. Not until she heard O'Neil call for an ambulance did +she rouse herself to connected speech. Then she exclaimed with +hysterical insistence: + +"You shall not take him away! I am a nurse; he shall stay here. Who +better than I could attend to him?" + +"He can stay here if you have a place for him," said the doctor. O'Neil +drew him aside, inquiring, "Will he live?" + +The doctor indicated Vittoria with a movement of his head. "I'm sure of +it. That girl won't let him die." + +The news of that combat traveled fast and far and it came to Myra Nell +Warren among the first. Despite the dreadful false position in which +Bernie had placed her with respect to Norvin, the girl had but one +thought and that was to go to her friend. She could not endure the +sight of blood, and her somewhat child-like imagination conjured up a +gory spectacle. She was afraid that if she tried to act as nurse she +would faint or run away when most needed. But she was determined to go +to him and to assist in any way she could. It was not consistent with +her ideas of loyalty to shrink from the sight of suffering even though +she could do nothing to relieve it. + +When she mounted the stairs to Oliveta's living-quarters she was pale +and agitated, and she faltered on the threshold at the sight of +strangers. Within were a newspaper reporter, a doctor, the Chief of +Police, the Mayor of the city, while outside a curious throng was +gathered. Seeing Miss Fabrizi, she ran toward her, sobbing nervously. + +"Where is he, Vittoria? Tell me that he's--safe!" + +Some one answered, "He's safe and resting quietly." + +"T-take me to him." + +A spasm stirred Vittoria's tired features; she petted the girl with a +comforting hand, while Mayor Wright said, gently: + +"It must have been a great shock to you, Myra Nell, as it was to all of +us, but you may thank God he has been spared to you." + +The reporter made a note upon his pad, and began framing the heart +interest of his story. Here was a new and interesting aspect of an +event worth many columns. + +Vittoria led the girl toward her room, but outside the door Myra Nell +paused, shaking in every limb. + +"You--you love him?" asked the other woman. + +The look which Miss Warren gave her stabbed like a knife, and when the +girl had sunk to her knees beside the bed, with Blake's name upon her +lips, Vittoria stood for a long moment gazing down upon her dazedly. + +Later, when she had sent Myra Nell home and silence lay over the city, +Norvin's nurse stole into the great front room where she had +experienced so much of gladness and horror that night, and made her way +wearily to the little image of the Virgin. She noted with a start that +the candle was gone, so she lit a new one and, kneeling for many +minutes, prayed earnestly for strength to do the right and to quench +the leaping, dazzling flame which had been kindled in her heart. + + + + +XXII + +A MISUNDERSTANDING + + + +Several days later Vittoria Fabrizi led Bernie Dreux into the room +where Norvin lay. The little man walked on tiptoe and wore an +expression of such gloomy sympathy that Blake said: + +"Please don't look so blamed pious; it makes me hurt all over." + +Bernie's features lightened faintly; he smiled in a manner bordering +upon the natural. + +"They wouldn't let me see you before. Lord! How you have frightened us!" + +"My nurse won't let me talk." + +Blake's eyes rested with puzzled interrogation upon the girl, who +maintained her most professional air as she smoothed his pillow and +admonished him not to overtax himself. When she had disappeared +noiselessly, he said: + +"Well, you needn't put a rose in my hand yet awhile. Tell me what has +happened? How is Myra Nell?" + +"She's heartbroken, of course. She came here that first night; but the +smell of drugs makes her sick." + +"I suppose Maruffi got away?" + +Dreux straightened in his chair; his face flushed proudly; he put on at +least an inch of stature. "Haven't you heard?" he inquired, +incredulously. + +"How could I hear anything when I'm doctored by a deaf-mute and nursed +by a divinity without a tongue?" + +"Maruffi was captured that very night. Sure! Why, the whole country +knows about it." Again a look of mellow satisfaction glowed on the +little man's face. "My dear boy, you're a hero, of course, +but--there--are--others." + +"Who caught him?" + +"I did." + +"_You!_" Norvin stared in open-mouthed amazement. + +"That's what I said. I--me--Mr. Bernard Effingwell Dreux, the prominent +cotillion leader, the second-hand dealer, the art critic and amateur +detective. I unearthed the notorious and dreaded Sicilian desperado in +his lair, and now he's cooling his heels in the parish prison along +with his little friends." + +"Why--I'm astonished." + +"Naturally! I found him in Joe Poggi's house. Mr. Poggi also languishes +in the bastille." + +"How in the world--" + +"Well, it's quite a story, and it all happened through the woman--" +Bernie flushed a bit as he met his companion's eye. "When I told you +about Mrs. Poggi I didn't exactly go into all the +intimate--er--details. The truth is she became deeply interested in me. +I told you how I met her--Well, she wasn't averse to receiving my +attentions--Heavens, no! She ate 'em up! Before I knew it I found +myself entangled in an intrigue--I had hold of an electric current and +couldn't let go. When I didn't follow her around, she followed me. When +I didn't make love, she did. She learned about Felicite, and there +was--Excuse me!" Bernie rose, put his head cautiously outside the door +to find the coast clear, then said: "Hell to pay! I tried to back out; +but you can't back away from some women any more than you can back away +from a prairie fire." He shook his head gloomily. "It seems she wasn't +satisfied with Poggi; she had ambitions. She'd caught a glimpse of the +life that went on around her and wanted to take part in it. She thought +I was rich, too--my name had something to do with it, I presume--at any +rate, she began to talk of divorce, elopement, and other schemes that +terrorized me. She was quite willing that I murder her husband, poison +her relatives, or adopt any little expedient of that kind which would +clear the path for our true love. I was in over my depth, but when I +backed water she swam out and grabbed me. When I stayed away from her +she looked me up. I tried once to tell her that I didn't really care +for her--only once." The memory brought beads of sweat to the +detective's brow. "Between her and Felicite I led a dog's life. If I'd +had the money I'd have left town. + +"I'd been meeting her on street corners up to that point; but she +finally told me to come to the house while Poggi was away--it was the +day you were hurt. I rebelled, but she made such a scene I had to agree +or be arrested for blocking traffic. She carries a dagger, Norvin, in +her stocking, or somewhere; it's no longer than your finger, but it's +the meanest-looking weapon I ever saw. Well, I went, along about dark, +determined to have it out with her once for all; but those aristocrats +during the French Revolution had nothing on me. I know how it feels to +mount the steps of the guillotine. + +"The Poggi's parlor furniture is upholstered in red and smells musty. I +sat on the edge of a chair, one eye on her and the other taking in my +surroundings. There's a fine crayon enlargement of Joe with his +uniform, in a gold frame with blue mosquito-netting over it to +disappoint the flies--four ninety-eight, and we supply the frame--done +by an old master of the County Fair school. There's an organ in the +parlor, too, with a stuffed fish-hawk on it. + +"She seemed quite subdued and coy at first, so I took heart, never +dreaming she'd wear her dirk in the house. But say! That woman was +raised on raw beef. Before I could wink she had it out; it has an ivory +hilt, and you could split a silk thread with it. I suppose she didn't +want to spoil the parlor furniture with me, although I'd never have +showed against that upholstery, or else she's in the habit of preparing +herself for manslaughter by a system of vocal calisthenics. At any +rate, we were having it hot and heavy, and I was trying to think of +some good and unselfish actions I had done, when we heard the back door +of the cottage open and close, then somebody moving in the hall. + +"Mrs. Poggi turned green--not white--green! And I began to picture the +head-lines in the morning papers! 'The Bachelor and the Policeman's +Wife,' they seemed to say. It wasn't Poggi, however, as I discovered +when the fellow called to her. He was breathing heavily, as if he had +been running. She signaled me to keep quiet, then went out; and I heard +them talking, but couldn't understand what was said. When she came back +she was greener than ever, and told me to go, which I did, realizing +that the day of miracles is not done. I fell down three times, and ran +over a child getting out of that neighborhood." Blake, who had listened +eagerly, inquired: + +"The man was Maruffi?" + +"Exactly! I got back to the club in time to hear about his arrest and +escape and your fight here. The town was ringing with it; everybody was +horrified and amazed. What particularly stunned me was the news that +Maruffi, not Poggi, was the head of the Mafia; but my experience in +criminal work has taught me to be guided by circumstances, and not +theory, so when I learned more about Caesar's escape I fell to +wondering where he could hide. Then I recalled his secret meetings with +Joe Poggi and that scalding volcano of emotion from whom I had just +been delivered. Her fright, when she let me out, something familiar in +the voice which called to her, came back, and--well, I couldn't help +guessing the truth. Maruffi was in the house of one of the officers who +was supposed to be hunting him." + +"But his capture?" + +"Simple enough. I went to O'Neil and told him. We got a posse together +and went after him. We descended in such force and so suddenly that he +didn't have a chance to resist. If I'd known who he was at first I'd +have tried to take him single-handed." + +"Then it's well you didn't know." Blake smiled. + +"What bothers me," Dreux confessed, "is how Mrs. Poggi regards my +action. I--I hate to appear a cad. I'd apologize if I dared." + +Vittoria appeared to warn Dreux that his visit must end. When the +little man had gone Norvin inquired: + +"You knew of Maruffi's arrest?" + +"Oh, yes!" + +"Why didn't you tell me?" + +"You were in no condition to hear news of importance." + +"Is that why you have been so silent?" + +"Hush! You have talked quite enough for the present." + +"You act strangely--differently," he insisted. + +"I am your nurse. I am responsible for your recovery, so I do as I am +ordered." + +"And you haven't changed?" he inquired, wistfully. + +"Not at all, I am quite the same--quite the same girl you knew in +Sicily!" He did not relish her undertone, and wondered if illness had +quickened his imagination, if he was forever seeing more in her manner, +hearing more in her words than she meant. There was something +intangibly cold and distant about her, or seemed to be. During the +first feverish hours after his return to consciousness he had seen her +hanging over him with a wonderful loving tenderness--it was that which +had closed his wounds and brought him back toward health so swiftly; +but as his brain had cleared and he had grown more rational this vision +had disappeared along with his other fancies. + +He wondered whether knowledge of his pseudo-engagement to Myra Nell had +anything to do with her manner. He knew that she was in the girl's +confidence. Naturally, he himself was not quite at his ease in regard +to Miss Warren. The rumor about his advancing the money for her +Carnival expenses had been quieted through Bernie's efforts, and the +knowledge of it restricted to a necessary few. Although Myra Nell had +refused his offers of marriage and treated the matter lightly, he could +not help feeling that this attitude was assumed or exaggerated to cover +her humiliation--or was it something deeper? It would be terrible if +she really cared for him in earnest. Her own character protected her +from scandal. The breaking-off of his supposed engagement with her +could not hurt her--unless she really loved him. He closed his eyes, +cursing Bernie inwardly. After a time he again addressed Vittoria. + +"Tell me," he said, "how Maruffi came to spare you. My last vision was +of him aiming--" + +"He had but four shots." + +"Four?" + +"Yes, he had used two in his escape from the officers--before he came +here." + +"I see! It was horrible. I felt as if I had failed you at the critical +moment, just as I failed--" + +"As you failed whom?" + +"Martel!" The word sounded in his ears with a terrible significance; he +could hardly realize that he had spoken it. He had always meant to tell +her, of course, but the moment had taken him unawares. His conscience, +his inmost feeling, had found a voice apart from his volition. There +was a little silence. At length she said in a low, constrained tone. + +"Did you fail--him?" + +"I--I did," he said, chokingly; and, the way once opened, he made a +full and free confession of his craven fear that night on the road to +Terranova, told her of the inherent cowardice which had ever since +tortured and shamed him, and of his efforts to reconstruct his whole +being. "I wanted to expiate my sin," he finished, "and, above all, I +have longed to prove myself a man in your sight." + +She listened with white, set face, slightly averted. When she turned to +him at last, he saw that her eyes were wet with tears. + +"I cannot judge of these matters," she said. "You--you were no coward +the other night, amico mio. You were the bravest of the brave. You +saved my life. As for that other time, do not ask me to turn back and +judge. You perhaps blame yourself too much. It was not as if you could +have saved Martel. It is rather that you should have at least +tried--that is how you feel, is it not? You had to reckon with your own +sense of honor. Well, you have won your fight; you have become a new +person, and you are not to be held responsible for any action of that +Norvin Blake I knew in Sicily, who, indeed, did not know his own +weakness and could not guard against it. Ever since I met you here in +New Orleans I have known you for a brave, strong man. It is +splendid--the way in which you have conquered yourself--splendid! Few +men could have done it. Be comforted," she added, with a note of +tenderness that answered the pleading in his eyes--"there is no +bitterness in my heart." + +"Margherita," he cried, desperately, "can't you--won't you--" + +"Oh," she interposed, peremptorily, "do not say it. I forbid you to +speak." Then, as he fell silent, she continued in a manner she strove +to make natural: "That dear girl, Myra Nell Warren, has inquired about +you daily. She has been distracted, heartbroken. Believe me, caro +Norvin, there is a true and loving woman whom you cannot cast aside. +She seems frivolous on the surface, I grant you. Even I have been +deceived. But at the time of Mr. Dreux's dreadful faux pas she was so +hurt, she grieved so that I couldn't but believe she felt deeply." + +Norvin flushed dully and said nothing. + +Vittoria smiled down upon him with a look that was half maternal in its +sweetness. + +"All this has been painful for you," she said, "and you have become +over-excited. You must not talk any more now. You are to be moved soon." + +"Aren't you going to be my nurse any more?" + +"You are to be taken home." + +His hand encountered hers, and he tried to thank her for what she had +done, but she rose and, admonishing him to sleep, left the room +somewhat hurriedly. + +In the short time which intervened before Norvin was taken to his own +quarters Vittoria maintained her air of cool detachment. Myra Nell came +once, bringing Bernie with her, much to the sick man's relief; his +other friends began to visit him in rapidly increasing numbers; he +gradually took up the threads of his every-day life which had been so +rudely severed. Meanwhile, he had ample time to think over his +situation. He could not persuade himself that Vittoria had been right +in her reading of Myra Nell. Perhaps she had only put this view forward +to shield herself from the expression of a love she was not ready to +receive. He could not believe that he had been deluded, that there was +in reality no hope for him. + +Mardi Gras week found him still in bed and unable to witness Myra +Nell's triumph. During the days of furious social activity she had +little time to give him, for the series of luncheons, of pageants, of +gorgeous tableaux and brilliant masked balls kept her in a whirl of +rapturous confusion, and left her scant leisure in which to snatch even +her beauty sleep. + +Since she was to be the flower of the festival, and since her beauty +was being saved for the grand climax of the whole affair, she had no +idea of sacrificing it. Proteus, Momus, the Mistick Krewe of Comus, and +the other lesser societies celebrated their distinctive nights with +torch and float and tableau; the city was transformed by day with +bunting and flags, by night it was garlanded with fire; merrymakers +thronged the streets, their carnival spirit entered into every breast. +It was a glad, mad week of gaiety, of dancing, of laughter, of flirting +and love-making under the glamour of balmy skies and velvet torch-lit +nights; and to the pleasure of the women was added the delicious +torture of curiosity regarding those mysterious men in masks who came +through a blaze of fire and departed, no one knew whither. + +As the spirit of the celebration mounted, Myra Nell abandoned herself +to it; she lived amid a bewilderment of social obligations, through +which she strove incessantly to discover the identity of her King. +Finding herself unsuccessful in this, her excitement redoubled. At last +came his entrance to the city; the booming cannon, the applauding +thousands, his royal progress through the streets toward the +flower-festooned stand where she looked down upon the multitude. Miss +Warren's maids of honor were the fairest of all this fair city, and yet +she stood out of that galaxy as by far the most entrancing. + +Her royal consort came at length, a majestic figure upon a float of +ivory and gold; he took the goblet from her hand; he pledged her with +silent grace while the assembled hordes shouted their allegiance to the +pair. She knew he must be very handsome underneath his mask; and he was +bold also, in a quite unkingly way, for there was more in his glance +than the greeting of a monarch; there was ardent love, a burning +adoration which thrilled her breast and fanned her curiosity to a +leaping flame. This was, indeed, life, romance, the purple splendor for +which she had been born. She could scarcely contain herself until the +hour of the Rex ball, when she knew her chance would come to match her +charm and beauty against his voiceless secrecy. She was no longer a +make-believe queen, but a royal ruler, beloved by her subjects, adored +by her throne-mate. Then the glittering ball that followed!--the +blazing lights, the splendid pantomime, the great shifting kaleidoscope +of beauteous ladies and knightly men in gold and satin and coats of +mail! And, above all, the maddening mystery of that king at her side +whose glances were now melting with melancholy, now ablaze with +eagerness, and whose whispered words, muffled behind his mask, were not +those of a monarch, but rather those of a bold and audacious lover! He +poured his vows into her blushing ear; he set her wits to scampering +madly; his sincere passion, together with the dream-like unreality of +the scene, intoxicated her. Who could he be? How dared he say these +things? What faint familiar echo did his voice possess? Which one of +her many admirers had the delightful effrontery to court her thus +ardently beneath a thousand eyes? He was drunk with the glory of this +hour, it seemed, for he whispered words she dared not listen to. What +preposterous proposals he voiced; what insane audacity he showed! And +yet he was in deadly earnest, too. She canvassed her many suitors in +her mind, she tried artfully to trap him into some betrayal; the game +thrilled her with a keen delight. At last she realized there was but +one who possessed such brazen impudence, and told him she had known him +from the first, whereat he laughed with the abandon of a pagan and +renewed the fervor of his suit. + +Blake learned from many sources that Myra Nell had made a gorgeous +Queen. The papers lauded her grace, her beauty, the magnificence of her +costumes. Bernie was full of it and could talk of nothing else when he +dropped in as usual. + +"She's all tired out, and I reckon she'll sleep for a week. I hope so, +anyhow." + +"I'm sorry I couldn't see her, but I'm glad I escaped the Carnival. The +Mardi Gras is hard enough on the women; but it kills us men." + +"I should say so. Look at me--a wreck." After a moment he added: "You +think Myra Nell is all frivolity and glitter, but she isn't; she's as +deep as the sea, Norvin. I can't tell you how glad I am that you +two--" Blake stirred uneasily. "I--I admire you tremendously, for you're +just what I wanted to be and couldn't. I'm talking foolishly, I know, +but this Carnival has made me see Myra Nell in a new light; I see now +that she was born for joy and luxury and splendor and--and those things +which you can give her. She's been a care to me. I've been her mother; +I've actually made her dresses--but I'm glad now for all my little +sacrifices." Two tears gathered and trickled down Mr. Dreux's cheeks, +while Blake marveled at the strange mixture of qualities in this +withered little beau. Bernie's words left him very uncomfortable, +however, and the hours that followed did not lessen the feeling. + +Although Myra Nell sent him daily messages and gifts--now books, now +flowers, now a plate of fudge which she had made with her own hands and +which he was hard put to dispose of--she nevertheless maintained a shy +embarrassment and came to see him but seldom. When she did call, her +attitude was most unusual: she overflowed with gossip, yet she talked +with a nervous hesitation; when she found his eyes upon her she +stammered, flushed, and paled; and he caught her stealing glances of +miserable appeal at him. She was very different from the girl he had +known and had learned to love in a big, impersonal way. He attributed +the change to his own failure in responding to her timid advances, and +this made him quite unhappy. + +Nor did he see much of Vittoria, although Oliveta came daily to inquire +about his progress. + +He was up and about in time for the Mafia trial; but his duties in +connection with it left him little leisure for society, which he was +indeed glad to escape. New Orleans, he found, was on tiptoe for the +climax of the tragedy which had so long been its source of ferment; the +public was roused to a new and even keener suspense than at any +time--not so much, perhaps, by the reopening of the case as by the +rumors of bribery and corruption which were gaining ground. A startling +array of legal talent had appeared for the defense; the trial was +expected to prove the greatest legal battle in the history of the +commonwealth. + +Maruffi, with his genius for control, had assumed an iron-bound +leadership and laughed openly at the possibility of a conviction. He +had struck the note of persecution, making a patriotic appeal to the +Italian populace; and the foreign section of the city seethed in +consequence. + +On the opening day the court-room was packed, the halls and corridors +of the Criminal Court building were filled to suffocation, the +neighboring streets were jammed with people clamoring for admittance +and hungry for news from within. Then began the long, tedious task of +selecting a jury. Public opinion had run so high that this was no easy +undertaking. As day after day went by in the monotonous examination and +challenge of talesmen, as panel after panel was exhausted with no +result, not only did the ridiculous shortcomings of our jury system +become apparent, but also the fact that the Mafia had, as usual, made +full use of its sinister powers of intimidation. In view of the +atrocious character of the crime and the immense publicity given it, +those citizens who were qualified by intelligence to act as jurors had +of necessity read and heard sufficient to form an opinion, and were +therefore automatically debarred from service. It became necessary to +place the final adjudication of the matter in the hands of men who were +either utterly indifferent to the public weal or lacked the +intelligence to read and weigh and think. + +A remarkable wave of humanity seemed to have overwhelmed the city. Four +out of every five men examined professed a disbelief in capital +punishment, which, although it merely covered a fear of the Mafia's +antagonism, nevertheless excused them for cause. Day after day this +mockery went on. + +As the list of talesmen grew into the hundreds and the same +extraordinary antipathy to hanging continued to manifest itself, it +occasioned remark, then ridicule. It would have been laughable had it +not been so significant. The papers took it up, urging, exhorting, +demanding that there be a stiffening of backbone; but to no effect. +More than this, the Mafia had reigned so long and so autocratically, it +had so shamefully abused the courts in the past, that a large +proportion of honest men declared themselves unwilling to believe +Sicilian testimony unless corroborated, and this prevented them from +serving. + +A week went by, and then another, and still twelve men who could try +the issue fairly had not been found. Some few had been accepted, to be +sure, but they were not representative of the city, and the list of +talesmen who had been examined and excused on one pretext or another +numbered fully a thousand. + +Meanwhile, Maruffi smiled and shrugged and maintained his innocence. + + + + +XXIII + +THE TRIAL AND THE VERDICT + + + +Blake did not attend these tiresome preliminaries, although he followed +them with intense interest, the while a sardonic irritation arose in +him. Chancing to meet Mayor Wright one day, he said: + +"I'm beginning to think my original plan was the best after all." + +"You mean we should have lynched those fellows as they were taken?" +queried the Mayor, with a smile. + +"Something like that." + +"It won't take long to fix their guilt or innocence, once we get a +jury." + +"Perhaps--if we ever get one. But the men of New Orleans seem filled +with a quality of mercy which isn't tempered with justice. Those who +haven't already formed an opinion of the case are incompetent to act as +intelligent jurors. Those who could render a fair judgment are afraid." + +"You don't think there's any chance of an acquittal!" + +"Hardly! And yet I hear the defense has called two hundred witnesses, +so there's no telling what they will prove. You see, the prosecution is +handicapped by a regard for the truth, something which doesn't trouble +the other side in the least." + +"Suppose they should be acquitted?" + +"It would mean the breakdown of our legal system." + +"And what would happen?" + +Blake repeated the question, eyeing the Mayor curiously. + +"Exactly! What would happen? What ought to happen?" + +"Why, nothing," said the other, nervously. "They'd go free, I suppose. +But Maruffi can't get off--he resisted an officer." + +"Bah! He'd prove that Johnson assaulted him and he acted in +self-defense." + +"He'd have to answer for his attack upon you." + +Norvin gave a peculiarly disagreeable laugh. "Not at all. That's the +least of his sins. If the law fails in the Donnelly case I sha'n't ask +it to help me." + +But his pessimism gave way to a more hopeful frame of mind when the +jury was finally impaneled and sworn and the trial began. The whole +city likewise heaved a sigh of relief. The people had been puzzled and +disgusted by the delay, and now looked forward to the outcome with all +the keener eagerness to see justice done. Even before the hour for +opening, the streets around the Criminal Court were thronged; the halls +and lobbies were packed with a crowd which gave evidence of a +breathless interest. No inch of space in the court-room was untenanted; +an air of deep importance, a hush of strained expectancy lay over all. + +Norvin found himself in a room with the other witnesses for the State, +a goodly crowd of men and women, whites and blacks, many of whom he had +been instrumental in ferreting out. From beyond came the murmur of a +great assemblage, the shuffling of restless feet, the breathing of a +densely packed audience. The wait grew tedious as witness after witness +was summoned and did not return. At last he heard his own name called, +and was escorted down a narrow aisle into an inclosure peopled with +lawyers, reporters, and court officials, above which towered the dais +of the judge, the throne of justice. He mounted the witness-stand, was +sworn, and seated himself, then permitted his eyes to take in the +scene. Before him, stretching back to the distant walls, was a sea of +faces; to his right was the jury, which he scanned with the quick +appraisal of one skilled in human analysis. Between him and his +audience were the distinguished counsel, a dozen or more; and back of +them eleven swarthy, dark-visaged Sicilian men, seated in a row. At one +end sat Caesar Maruffi, massive, calm, powerful; at the other end sat +Gino Cressi, huddled beside his father, his pinched face bewildered and +terror-stricken. + +A buzz of voices arose as the crowd caught its first full glimpse of +the man who had so nearly lost his life through his efforts to bring +these criminals to justice. Upon Maruffi's face was a look of such +malignant hate that the witness stiffened in his chair. For one brief +instant the Sicilian laid bare his soul, as their eyes met, then his +cunning returned; the fire died from his impenetrable eyes; he was +again the handsome, solid merchant who had sat with Donnelly at the Red +Wing Club. The man showed no effect of his imprisonment and betrayed no +sign of fear. + +Norvin told his story simply, clearly, with a positiveness which could +not fail to impress the jury; he withstood a grilling cross-examination +at the hands of a criminal lawyer whose reputation was more than +State-wide; and when he finally descended from the stand, Larubio, the +cobbler, the senior Cressi, and Frank Normando stood within the shadow +of the gallows. Normando he identified as the man in the rubber coat +whose face he had clearly seen as the final shot was fired; he pointed +out Gino Cressi as the picket who had given warning of the Chief's +approach, then told of his share in the lad's arrest and what Gino had +said. Concerning the other three who had helped in the shooting he had +no conclusive evidence to offer; nevertheless, it was plain that his +testimony had dealt a damaging blow to the defense. Yet Maruffi's +glance showed no concern, but rather a veiled and mocking insolence. + +As Blake passed out, young Cressi reached forth a timid hand and +plucked at him, whispering: + +"Signore, you said they would not hurt me." + +"Don't be afraid. No one shall harm you," he told the boy, reassuringly. + +"You promise?" + +"Yes." + +Cressi snatched his son to his side and scowled upward, breathing a +malediction upon the American. + +Inasmuch as the assassination had been carefully planned and executed +at a late hour on a deserted street, it was popularly believed that +very little direct testimony would be brought out, and that a +conviction, therefore, would rest mainly upon circumstantial evidence; +but as the trial progressed the case against the prisoners developed +unexpected strength. Had Donnelly fallen at the first volley, his +assailants would, in all probability, never have been identified, but +he had stood and returned their fire for a considerable time, thus +allowing opportunity for those living near by to reach their windows or +to run into the street in time to catch at least a glimpse of the +tragedy. Few saw more than a little, no one could identify all six of +the assailants; but so thoroughly had the prosecution worked, so +cunningly had it put these pieces together, that the whole scene was +reproduced in the court-room. The murderers were singled out one by one +and identified beyond a reasonable doubt. + +One witness had passed Larubio's shop a few minutes before the shooting +and had recognized the cobbler and his brother-in-law, Gaspardo Cressi. +He also pointed out Normando and Paul Rafiro, both of whom he knew by +sight. + +From an upper window of a house near by another man who had been +awakened by the noise saw Normando and Celso Fabbri in the act of +firing. A woman living opposite the cobbler's house peered out into the +smoke and flare in time to see Adriano Dora kneeling in the middle of +the street. He was facing her; the light was fairly good; there could +be no mistake. Various residents of the neighborhood had similar tales +to tell, for, while no one had seen the beginning of the fight, a dozen +pairs of eyes had looked out upon the finish, and many of these had +recorded a definite picture of one or more of the actors. A gentleman +returning from a lodge-meeting had even found himself on the edge of +the battle, and had been so frightened that he ran straight home. He +had learned, later, the significance of the fray, and had told nobody +about his experience until Norvin Blake had traced him out and wrung +the story from him. He feared the Mafia with the fear of death; but +descending from the stand he pointed out four of the +assassins--Normando, Fabbri, Rafiro, and Dora. He had seen them in the +very act of firing. + +A watchman on duty near by saw the boy Gino running past a moment +before the shooting began; then, as he hurried toward the disturbance, +he met Normando, Dora, and Rafiro coming toward him. The first of these +carried a shotgun, which dropped into the gutter as he slipped and +fell. The weapon and the suit of clothes Normando had worn were +produced and identified. It transpired that this witness knew Paul +Rafiro well, and for that reason had refused to tell what he knew until +Norvin Blake had come to him and forced the words from his lips. + +So it ran; the chain of evidence grew heavier with every hour. It +seemed that some superhuman agency must have set the stage for the +tragedy, posting witnesses at advantageous points. People marveled how +so many eyes had gazed through the empty, rainy night; it was as if a +mysterious hand had reached out of nowhere and brought together the +onlookers, one by one, willing and unwilling, friend and enemy alike. + +A more conclusive case than the State advanced against the six hired +murderers during the first few days would be hard to conceive, and the +public began to look for equally conclusive proof against the master +ruffian and his lieutenants; but through it all Maruffi sat +unperturbed, guiding the counsel with a word or a suggestion, in his +bearing a calm self-assurance. + +Then came a surprise which roused the whole city. From out of the +parish prison appeared another Italian, a counterfeiter, who had +recently been arrested, and who proved to be a Pinkerton detective +"planted" among the Mafiosi for a purpose. Larubio had been a +counterfeiter in Sicily--it was in the government prison that he had +learned his cobbler's trade; and out of the fullness of his heart he +had talked--so the detective swore--concerning these foolish Americans +who sought to stay the hand of La Mafia. Nor had he been the only one +to commit himself. Di Marco, Garcia, and the other two lieutenants +turned livid as the stool-pigeon confronted them with their own words. + +On the heels of this came the crowning dramatic moment of the trial. + +Normando broke down and tried to confess in open court. He was a dull, +ignorant man, with a bestial face and a coward's eye. This unexpected +treachery, his own complete identification, had put an intolerable +strain upon him. Without warning, he rose to his feet in the crowded +court-room and cried loudly in his own tongue: + +"Madonna mia! I do not want to die! I confess! I confess!" + +Norvin Blake, who had been watching the proceedings from the audience, +leaped from his seat as if electrified; other spectators followed, for +even among those who could not understand the fellow's words it was +seen that he was breaking. Normando's ghastly pallor, his wet and +twitching lips, his shaking hands, all told the story. Confusion +followed. Amid the hubbub of startled voices, the stir of feet, the +interruption of counsel, the wretch ran on, repeating his fear of death +and his desire to confess, meanwhile beating his breast in hysterical +frenzy. + +Of all the Americans present perhaps Norvin alone understood exactly +what the Sicilian was saying and why consternation had fallen upon the +other prisoners. Larubio went white; a blind and savage fury leaped +into Maruffi's face; the other nine wilted or stiffened according to +the effect fear had upon them. + +A death-like hush succeeded the first outbreak, and through Normando's +gabble came the judge's voice calling for an interpreter. There was no +need for the crier to demand silence; every ear was strained for the +disclosures that seemed imminent. + +Blake was forcing himself forward to offer his services when the +wretch's wavering eyes caught something in the audience and rested +there. The death sign of the Brotherhood was flashed at him; he halted. +His tongue ran thickly for a moment; then he sank into his chair, and, +burying his head in his hands, began to rock from side to side, sobbing +and muttering. Nor would he say more, even when a recess was declared +and he was taken into the judge's chambers. Thereafter he maintained a +sullen, hopeless silence which nothing could break, glaring at his +captors with the defiance of a beast at bay. But the episode had had +its effect; it seemed that no one could now doubt the guilt of the +prisoners. + +The assurance of conviction grew as it was proven that Maruffi himself +had rented Larubio's shop and laid the trap for Donnelly's destruction. +Step by step the plot was bared in all its hideous detail. The blood +money was traced from the six hirelings up through the four superiors +to Caesar himself. Then followed the effort to show a motive for the +crime--not a difficult task, since every one knew of Donnelly's work +against the Mafia. Maruffi's domination of the Society was harder to +bring out; but when the State finally rested its case, even Blake, who +had been dubious from the start, confessed that American law and +American courts had demonstrated their efficiency. + +During all this time his relations with Vittoria remained unchanged. +She and Oliveta eagerly welcomed his reports of the trial; but she +never permitted him to see her alone, and he felt that she was +deliberately withdrawing from him. He met her only for brief +interviews. Of Myra Nell, meanwhile, he saw nothing, since, with +characteristic abruptness, she had decided to visit some forgotten +cousins in Mobile. + +Of all those who followed the famous Mafia trial, detail by detail, +perhaps no one did so with greater fixity of interest than Bernie +Dreux. He reveled in it, he talked of nothing else, his waking hours +were spent in the courtroom, his dreams were peopled with Sicilian +figures. He hung upon Norvin, his hero, with a tenacity that was +trying; he discussed the evidence bit by bit; he ran to him with every +rumor, every fresh development. As the prosecution made its case his +triumph became fierce and fearful to behold; then when the defense +began its crafty efforts he grew furiously indignant, a mighty rage +shook him, he swelled and choked with resentment. + +"What do you think?" he inquired, one day. "They're proving alibis, one +by one! It's infamous!" + +"It will take considerable Sicilian testimony to offset the effect of +our witnesses," Blake told him. + +But Dreux looked upon the efforts of the opposing lawyers as a personal +affront, and so declared himself. + +"Why, they're trying to make you out a liar! That's what it amounts to. +The law never intended that a gentleman's word should be disputed. If I +were the judge I'd close the case right now and instruct the sheriff to +hang all the prisoners, including their attorneys." + +"They'll never be acquitted." + +Bernie shook his head morosely. + +"There's a rumor of jury-fixing. I hear one of the talesmen was +approached with a bribe before the trial." + +"I can scarcely believe that." + +"I'll bet it's true just the same. If I'd known what they were up to +I'd have got on the jury myself. I'd have taken their money, then I'd +have fixed 'em!" + +"You'd have voted for eleven hemp neckties, eh?" + +"I'd have hung each man twice." + +Although Blake at first refused to credit the rumors of corruption, the +following days served to verify them, for more than one juryman +confessed to receiving offers. This caused a sensation which grew as +the papers took up the matter and commented editorially. A leading +witness for the State finally told of an effort to intimidate him, and +men began to ask if this was destined to prove as rotten as other Mafia +cases in the past. A feeling of unrest, of impatience, began to +manifest itself, vague threats were voiced, but the idea of a bribed or +terrorized jury was so preposterous that few gave credence to it. +Nevertheless, the closing days of the trial were weighted heavily with +suspense. Not only the city, but the country at large, hung upon the +outcome. So strongly had racial antipathy figured that Italy took note +of the case, and it assumed an international importance. Biased +accounts were cabled abroad which led to an uneasy stir in ministerial +and consular quarters. + +During the exhaustive arguments at the close of the trial Norvin and +Bernie sat together. When the opening attorneys for the prosecution had +finished, Dreux exclaimed, triumphantly: + +"We've got 'em! They can't escape after that." + +But when the defense in turn had closed, the little man revealed an +indignant face to his companion, saying: + +"Lord! They're as good as free! We'll never convict on evidence like +that." + +Once more he changed, under the spell of the masterly State's attorney, +and declared with fierce exultance: + +"What did I tell you? They'll hang every mother's son of 'em. The jury +won't be out an hour." + +The jury was out more than an hour, even though press and public +declared the case to be clear. Yet, knowing that the eyes of the world +were upon her, New Orleans went to sleep that night serene in the +certainty that she had vindicated herself, had upheld her laws, and +proved her ability to deal with that organized lawlessness which had so +long been a blot upon her fair name. + +Soon after court convened on the following morning the jury sent word +that they had reached a verdict, and the court-room quickly filled. +Rumors of Caesar Maruffi's double identity had gone forth; it was +hinted that he was none other than the dreaded Belisario Cardi, that +genius of a thousand crimes who had held all Sicily in fear. This +report supplied the last touch of dramatic interest. + +Blake and Bernie were in their places before the prisoners arrived. +Every face in the room was tense and expectant; even the calloused +attendants felt the hush and lowered their voices in deference. Every +eye was strained toward the door behind which the jury was concealed. +There came the rumble of the prison van below, the tramp of feet upon +the hollow stairs, and into the dingy, high-ceilinged hall of justice +filed the accused, manacled and doubly guarded. Maruffi led, his black +head held high; Normando brought up the rear, supported by two +officers. He was racked with terror, his body hung like a sack, a +moisture of foam and spittle lay upon his lips. When he reached the +railing of the prisoners' box he clutched it and resisted loosely, +sobbing in his throat; but he was thrust forward into a seat, where he +collapsed. + +The judge and the attorneys were in their places when a deputy sheriff +swung open the door to the jury-room and the "twelve good men and true" +appeared. As if through the silence of a tomb they went to their +stations while eleven pairs of black Sicilian eyes searched their +downcast features for a sign. Larubio, the cobbler, was paper-white +above his smoky beard; Di Marco's swarthy face was green, like that of +a corpse; his companions were frozen in various attitudes of eager, +dreadful waiting. The only sound through the scuff and tramp of the +jurors' feet was Normando's lunatic murmuring. As for the leader of the +band, he sat as if graven in stone; but, despite his iron control, a +pallor had crept up beneath his skin. + +Blake heard Bernie whisper: + +"Look! They know they're lost." + +"Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon a verdict?" came the voice +of the judge. + +The foreman rose. "We have." + +He passed a document up to the bench, and silently the court examined +it. + +The seconds were now creeping minutes. Normando's ceaseless mumbling +was like that of a man distraught by torture. A hand was used to +silence him. The spectators were upon their feet and bent forward in +attention; the cordon of officers closed in behind the accused as if to +throttle any act of desperation. + +The judge passed the verdict down to the minute clerk, who read in a +clear, distinct, monotonous tone: + +"Celso Fabbri, Frank Normando, mistrial. Salvatore di Marco, Frank +Garcia, Giordano Bolla"--the list of names seemed +interminable--"Gaspardo Cressi, Lorenzo Cardoni, Caesar Maruffi"--he +paused for an instant while time halted--"not guilty." + +After the first moment of stunned stupefaction a murmur of angry +disapproval ran through the crowd; it was not loud, but hushed, as if +men doubted their senses and were seeking corroboration of their ears. +From the street below, as the judgment was flashed to the waiting +hundreds, came an echo, faint, unformed, like the first vague stir that +runs ahead of a tempest. + +The shock of Norvin Blake's amazement in part blurred his memory of +that dramatic tableau, but certain details stood out clearly +afterwards. For one thing he heard Bernie Dreux giggling like an +overwrought woman, while through his hysteria ran a stream of shocking +curses He saw one of the jurors rise, yawn, and stretch himself, then +rub his bullet head, smiling meanwhile at the Cressi boy. He saw Caesar +Maruffi turn full to the room behind him and search for his own face. +When their eyes met, a light of devilish amusement lit the Sicilian's +visage; his lips parted and his white teeth gleamed, but it was no +smile, rather the nervous, rippling twitch that bares a wolf's fangs. +His color had come flooding back, too; victory suffused him with a +ruddy, purple congestion, almost apoplectic. Then heads came between +them; friends of the prisoners crowded forward with noisy +congratulations and outstretched palms; the rival attorneys were +shaking hands. + +Blake found himself borne along by the eddying stream which set out of +the court-room and down into the sunlit street, where the curbs were +lined with uplifted faces. Dreux was close beside him, quite silent +now. A similar silence brooded over the whole procession which emerged +from the building like a funeral cortege. When the moments brought home +the truth to its members they felt, indeed, as if they came from a +house of death, for they had seen Justice murdered, and the chill was +in their hearts. + +But there was something sinister in the hush which gagged that +multitude. + +Many readers will doubtless recall, even now, the shock that went +through this country at the conclusion of the famous New Orleans Mafia +trial of twenty years ago. They will, perhaps, remember a general +feeling of surprise that an American jury would dare, in the face of +such popular feeling and such apparently overwhelming evidence, to +render a verdict of "not guilty." In some quarters the farcical outcome +of the trial was blamed upon Louisiana's peculiar legal code. But the +truth is our Northern cities had not at that time felt the power of +organized crime. New York, for instance, had not been shaken by an +interminable succession of dynamite outrages nor terrorized by bands of +Latin-born Apaches who live by violence and blackmail; therefore, the +tremendous difficulty of securing convictions was not appreciated as it +is to-day. + +There was a universal suspicion that the last word concerning the New +Orleans affair had not been written, so what followed was not entirely +a surprise. + + + + +XXIV + +AT THE FEET OF THE STATUE + + + +Two hours after the verdict there was a meeting of the Committee of +Justice, and that night the evening papers carried the following notice: + + "MASS-MEETING" + +"All good citizens are invited to attend a mass-meeting to-morrow +morning at 10 o'clock at Clay Statue, to take steps to remedy the +failure of justice in the Donnelly case. Come prepared for action." + +It was signed by the fifty well-known men who had been appointed to +represent the people. That incredible verdict had caused a great +excitement; but this bold and threatening appeal brought the city up +standing. It caused men who had been loudly cursing the jury to halt +and measure the true depth of their indignation. There was no other +topic of conversation that night; and when the same call appeared in +the morning papers, together with a ringing column headed, + + "AWAKE! ARISE!" + +it stirred a swift and mighty public sentiment. Never, perhaps, in any +public press had so sanguinary an appeal been issued. + +"Citizens of New Orleans," it read in part, "when murder overrides law +and justice, when juries are bribed and suborners go unwhipped, it is +time to resort to your own indefeasible right of self-preservation. +Alien bands of oath-bound assassins have set the blot of a martyr's +blood upon your civilization. Your laws, in the very Temple of Justice, +have been bought, suborners have loosed upon your streets the midnight +murderers of an officer in whose grave lies the majesty of American law. + +"Rise in your might, people of New Orleans! Rise!" + +A similar note was struck by editorials, many of them couched in +language even stronger and more suited to fan the public rage. The +recent trial was called an outrageous travesty on justice; attention +was directed to the damnable vagaries of recent juries which had been +impaneled to try red-handed Italian murderers. + +"Our city is become the haven of blackmailers and assassins, the safe +vantage-ground for Sicilian stilletto bands who slay our legal +officers, who buy jurors, and corrupt sworn witnesses under the hooded +eyes of Justice. How much longer will this outrage be permitted?" So +read a heavily typed article in the leading journal. + +A wave of fierce determination ran through the whole community. + +Margherita Ginini was waiting at Blake's place of business when he +arrived, after a night of sleepless worry. She, too, showed evidence of +a painful vigil; her hand was shaking as she held out a copy of the +morning paper, inquiring: + +"What is the meaning of this?" + +"It means we're no longer in Sicily," he said. + +"You intend to--kill those men?" + +"I fear something like that may occur. The question will be put up to +the people, plainly." + +She clutched the edge of his desk, staring at him with wide, tragic +eyes. + +"Your name heads the list. Did--you do this?" + +"I am the chairman of that committee. I did my part." + +"But the law declares them innocent," she gasped--"all but two, and +they can be tried over again." + +"The law!" He smiled bitterly. "Do you believe that?" + +"I believe they are guilty--who can doubt it? But this +lawlessness--this mad cry for revenge--it is against all my beliefs, my +religion. Oh, my friend, can't you stop it? At least take no part in +it--for my sake." + +His look was hard, yet regretful, + +"For your sake I would give my life gladly," he said, "but there are +times when one must act his destined part. That verdict holds me up to +the public as a perjurer; but that is a small matter. Oh, I have had my +scruples; I have questioned my conscience, and deep in my heart I see +that there is only one way. I'd be a hypocrite if I denied it. I'm +wrong, perhaps, but I can't be untrue to myself." + +"We know but a part of the truth," she urged, desperately. "God alone +knows it all. You saw three men--there are others whom you did not see." + +"They were seen by other eyes quite as trustworthy as mine." + +She wrung her hands miserably, crying: + +"But wait! Guilty or innocent, they have appeared in judgment, and the +law has acquitted them. You urge upon the people now a crime greater +than theirs. Two wrongs do not make a right. Who are you to raise +yourself above that power which is supreme?" + +"There's a law higher than the courts." + +"Yes, one; the law of God. If our means have failed, leave their +punishment to Him." + +He shook his head, no trace of yielding in his eyes. + +"One man was killed, and yet you contemplate the death of eleven!" + +"Listen," he cried, "this cause belongs to the people who have seen +their sacred institutions debauched. If I had the power to sway the +citizens of New Orleans from the course which I believe they +contemplate, I doubt that I could bring myself to exercise it, for it +is plain that the Mafia must be exterminated. The good of the city, the +safety of all of us, demands it." He regarded her curiously. "Do you +realize what Maruffi's freedom would mean to you and Oliveta?" + +"We are in God's hands." + +"It would require a miracle to save you. Caesar would have my life, +too; he told me as much with his eyes when that corrupted jury lifted +the fear of death from his heart." + +"So!" cried the girl. "You fear him, therefore you take this means of +destroying him! You goad the public and your friends into a red rage +and send them to murder your enemy." + +Her hysteria was not proof against the look which leaped into his +eyes--the pallor that left him facing her with the visage of a sick man. + +"During the last five years," he said, slowly, "I've often tried to be +a man, but never until last night have I succeeded fully. When I signed +that call to arms I felt that I was writing Maruffi's death-warrant. I +hesitated for a time, then I put aside all thoughts of myself, and now +I'm prepared to meet this accusation. I knew it would come. The +world--my world--knows that Maruffi's life or mine hinges on his +liberty; if he dies by the mob to-day, that world will call me coward +for my act; it will say that I roused the passions of the populace to +save myself. Nevertheless, I was chosen leader of that committee, and I +did their will--as I shall do the will of the people." + +"The will of the people! You know very well that the people have no +will. They do what their leaders tell them." + +"My name is written. I am sorry that I cannot do as you wish." + +"But surely you do not deceive yourself," she insisted. "This is wrong, +oh, so inconceivably, so terribly wrong! You do not possess the divine +power to bestow life. How then can you dare to take it? By what +possible authority do you decree the destruction of your fellow-men +whom the law has adjudged innocent?" + +"By the sovereign authority of the public good. By the inherited right +of self-protection." + +"You would shoot them down, like caged animals?" + +"Those eleven individuals have ceased to exist as men. They represent +an infection, a diseased spot which must be cut out. They stand for +disorder and violence; to free them would be a crime, to give them arms +to defend themselves would be merely to increase their evil." + +"There is a child among them, too; would you have his death upon your +conscience?" + +"I told Gino he should come to no harm, and, God willing, he sha'n't." + +"How can you hope to stem the rage of a thousand madmen? A mob will +stop at no half measures. There are two men among the prisoners who are +entitled to another trial. Do you think the people will spare them if +they take the others?" He shrugged his shoulders doubtfully, and she +shuddered. "You shall not have the death of those defenseless men upon +your soul!" she cried. "Your hands at least shall remain clean." + +"Please don't urge me," he said. + +"But I do. I ask you to take no part in this barbarous uprising." + +"And I must refuse you." + +She looked at him wildly; her face was ashen as she continued: + +"You have said that you love me. Can't you make this sacrifice for me? +Can't you make this concession to my fears, my conscience, my beliefs? +I am only a woman, and I cannot face this grim and awful thing. I +cannot think of your part in it." + +The look she gave him went to his heart. + +"Margherita!" he cried, in torture; "don't you see I have no choice? I +couldn't yield, even if the price were--you and your love. You wouldn't +rob me of my manhood?" + +"I could never touch hands which were stained with the blood of +defenseless men--not even in friendship, you--understand?" + +"I understand!" For a second time the color left his face. + +Her glance wavered again, she swayed, then groped for the door, while +he stood like stone in his tracks. + +"Good-by!" he said, lifelessly. + +"Good-by!" she answered, in the same tone. "I have done my part. You +are a man, and you must do yours as you see it. But may God save you +from bloodshed." + +Long before the hour set for the gathering at Clay Statue the streets +in that vicinity began to fill. Men continued on past their places of +business; shops and offices remained closed; the wide strip of neutral +ground which divided the two sides of the city's leading thoroughfare +began to pack. Around the base of the monument groups of citizens +congregated until the cars were forced to slow down and proceed with a +clangor of gongs which served only as a tocsin to draw more recruits. +Vehicles came to a halt, were wedged dose to the curbs, and became +coigns of vantage; office windows, store-fronts, balconies, and +roof-tops began to cluster with a human freight. + +After a week of wind and rain the sun had risen in a sky that was +cloudless, save for a few thin streaks of shining silver which +resembled long polished rapiers or the gleaming spear-points of a host +still hidden below the horizon. The fragrance of shrubs and flowers, +long dormant, weighted the breeze. It was a glorious morning, fit for +love and laughter and little children. + +Nor did the rapidly swelling assemblage resemble in any measure a mob +bent upon violence. It was composed mainly of law-abiding business men +who greeted each other genially; in their grave, intelligent faces was +no hint of savagery or brutality. All traffic finally ceased, the +entire neighborhood was massed and clotted with waiting humanity; then, +as the hour struck, a running salvo of applause came from the galleries +and a cheer from the street when a handful of men was seen crowding its +way up to the base of the statue. It was composed of a half-dozen +prominent men who had been identified with the Committee of Justice; +among them was Norvin Blake. A hush followed as one of them mounted the +pedestal and began to speak. He was recognized as Judge Blackmar, a +wealthy lawyer, and his well-trained voice filled the wide spaces from +wall to wall; it went out over the sea of heads and up to the crowded +roof-tops. + +He told of the reasons which had inspired this indignation meeting; he +recounted the history of the Mafia in New Orleans, and recalled its +many outrages culminating in the assassination of Chief Donnelly. + +"Affairs have reached such a crisis," said he, "that we who live in an +organized and civilized community find our laws ineffective and are +forced to protect ourselves as best we may. When courts fail, the +people must act. What protection is left us, when our highest police +official is slain in our very midst by the Mafia and his assassins +turned loose upon us? This is not the first case of wilful murder and +supine justice; our court records are full of similar ones. The time +has come to say whether we shall tolerate these outrages further or +whether we shall set aside the verdict of an infamous and perjured jury +and cleanse our city of the ghouls which prey upon it. I ask you to +consider this question fairly. You have been assembled, not behind +closed doors, nor under the cloak of darkness, but in the heart of the +city, in the broad light of day, to take such action as honest men must +take to save their homes against a public enemy. What is your answer?" + +A roar broke from all sides; an incoherent, wordless growling rumbled +down the street. Those on the outskirts of the assemblage who had come +merely from curiosity, or in doubt that anything would be accomplished, +began to press closer. + +A restless murmur, broken by the cries of excitable men, arose when the +second speaker took his place. Then as he spoke the temper of the +people began to manifest itself undeniably. The crowd swayed and +cheered; certain demands were voiced insistently; a wave of intense +excitement swept it as it heard its desires so boldly proclaimed. As +the heaving sea is lashed to fury by the wind, the people's rage +mounted higher with every sentence of the orator; every pause was +greeted with howls. Men stared into the faces around them, and, seeing +their own emotions mirrored, they were swept by an ever-increasing +agitation. There was a general impulse to advance at once upon the +parish prison, and knots of stragglers were already making in that +direction, while down from the telegraph-poles, from roofs and +shed-tops men were descending. All that seemed lacking for a concerted +movement was a leader, a bold figure, a ringing voice to set this army +in motion. + +Blake had been selected to make the third address and to put the issue +squarely up to the people; but, as he wedged his way forward to enact +his role, up to the feet of the statue squirmed and wriggled a figure +which assumed the place just vacated by the second speaker. + +It was Bernie Dreux, but a different Bernie from the man his amazed +friends in the crowd thought they knew. He was pale, and his limbs +shook under him, but his eyes blazed with a fire which brought a hush +of attention to all within sight of him. Up there against the heroic +figure of Henry Clay he looked more diminutive, more insignificant than +ever; but oddly enough he had attained a sudden dignity which made him +seem intensely masterful and alive. For a moment he paused, erect and +motionless, surveying that restless multitude which rocked and rumbled +for the distance of a full city square in both directions; then he +began. His voice, though high-pitched from emotion, was as clear and +ringing as a trumpet; it pierced to the farthest limits of the giant +audience and stirred it like a battle signal. The blood of his +forefathers had awakened at last; and old General Dreux, the man of +iron and fire and passion, was speaking through his son. + +"People of New Orleans," he cried, "I desire neither fame nor name nor +glory; I am here not as one of the Committee of Public Safety, but as a +plain citizen. Let me therefore speak for you; let mine be the lips +which give your answer. Fifty of our trusted townsmen were appointed to +assist in bringing the murderers of Chief Donnelly to justice. They +told us to wait upon the law. We waited, and the law failed. Our court +and our jury were debauched; our Committee comes back to us now, the +source from which it took its power, and acknowledges that it can do no +more. It lays the matter in our hands and asks for our decision. Let me +deliver the message: Justice must be done! Dan Donnelly must be avenged +to-day!" + +The clamor which had greeted the words of the previous speakers was as +nothing to the titanic bellow which burst forth acclaiming Dreux's. + +"This is the hour for action, not for talk," he continued, when he had +stilled them. "The Anglo-Saxon is slow to anger, and because of that +the Mafia has thrived among us; but once he is aroused, once his rights +are invaded and his laws assailed, his rage is a thing to reckon with. +Our Committee asks us if we are ready to take justice into our own +hands, and I answer, Yes!" + +A chaos of waving arms and of high-flung hats, a deafening crash of +voices again answered. + +"Then our speakers shall lead us. Judge Blackmar shall be the first in +command; Mr. Slade, who spoke after him, shall be second, and I shall +be the third in authority. Arm yourselves quickly, gentlemen, and may +God have mercy upon the souls of those eleven murderers." + +He leaped lightly down, and the great assemblage burst into motion, +streaming out Canal Street like a storming army. It boiled into side +streets and through every avenue which led in the direction of the +prison. At each corner it gathered strength; every thoroughfare belched +forth reinforcements; hundreds who had entertained no faintest notion +of taking part fell in, were swallowed up in the seething tide, and +went shouting to the very gates of the jail. + +Once that tossing river of humanity had been given force and direction +its character changed; it became a mailed dragon, it suddenly blossomed +with steel. Peaceful, middle-aged men who had stood beside the monument +buttoned up in peculiarly bulky overcoats were now marching silently +with weapons at their shoulders. + +Strangest of all, perhaps, was the greeting this army received on every +side. The flotsam and jetsam which swirled along in its eddies or +followed in its wake cheered, howled, and danced deliriously; men, +women, and children from doorways and galleries raised their voices +lustily, and applauded as if at some favorite carnival parade. In +notable contrast was the bearing of the armed men themselves; they +marched through the echoing streets like a regiment of mutes. + + + + +XXV + +THE APPEAL + + + +On the iron balcony of a house in the vicinity of the parish prison the +two Sicilian girls were standing. Across from them loomed the great +decaying structure with its little iron-barred windows and its +steel-ribbed doors behind which lay their countrymen. From inside came +the echo of a great hammering, as if a gallows were being erected; but +the square and the streets outside were quiet. + +"What time is it now?" Oliveta had repeated this question already a +dozen times. + +"It is after ten." + +"I hear nothing as yet, do you?" + +"Nothing!" + +"We could hear if it were not for that dreadful pounding yonder in the +jail." + +"Hush! They are building barricades." + +The peasant girl gasped and seized the iron railing in front of her. + +"Madonna mia! I am dying. Do you think Signore Blake will yield to your +appeal and turn the mob?" + +"I'm afraid not," said Vittoria, faintly. + +"He can do more than any other, for he is powerful; they will listen to +him. If Caesar should escape! I am shamed through and through to have +loved such a man, and yet to have him killed like a rat in a hole! I +pray, and I know not what I pray for--my thoughts are whirling so. Do +you hear anything from the city?" + +"No, no!" + +There was a moment's pause. + +"Those barricades will not allow them to enter, even if our friend does +not persuade them to disperse." + +"I have heard there is sometimes shooting." Vittoria shuddered. "It is +terrible for men to become brutes." + +"The time is growing late," Oliveta quavered. + +There was another period of silence while they strained their ears for +the faintest sound, but the fresh breeze wafted nothing to them. On a +neighboring gallery two housewives were gossiping; a child was playing +on the walk beneath, and his piping laughter sounded strangely +incongruous. From across the way rose that desultory pounding as spikes +were driven home and beams were nailed in place. Through a grated +aperture in the prison wall an armed man peered down the street. + +"Caesar is cunning," Oliveta broke out. "He is not one to be easily +caught. He is brave, too. Ah, God! how I loved him and how I have hated +him!" Ever since Maruffi's capture she had remained in a frame of mind +scarcely rational, fluctuating between a silent, sullen mood of revenge +and a sense of horror at her betrayal of the man who had once possessed +her whole heart. + +"It can't be that you still care for him?" + +"No, I loathe him, and if he escapes he would surely kill me. Yet +sometimes I wish it." She began mumbling to herself. "Look!" she cried, +suddenly. "What is this?" + +A public hack came swinging into view, its horses at a gallop. It drew +up before the main gate of the prison, a man leaped forth and began +pounding for admittance. Some one spoke to him through a grating. + +"What does he say?" queried the peasant girl. + +"I cannot hear. Perhaps he comes to say there is no--Mother of God! +Listen!" + +From somewhere toward the heart of the city came a faint murmur. + +"It is the rumble of a wagon on the next street," gasped Oliveta. + +The sound died away. The girls stood frozen at attention with their +senses strained. Then it rose again, louder. Soon there was no +mistaking it. A whisper came upon the breeze, it mounted into a +long-drawn humming, which in turn grew to a steady drone of voices +broken by waves of cheering. It gathered volume rapidly, and straggling +figures came running into view, followed by knots and groups of +fleet-footed youths. The driver of the carriage rose on his box, looked +over his shoulder, then whipped his horses into a gallop and fled. As +he did so a slowly moving wagon laden with timbers turned in from a +side street. It was driven by a somnolent negro, who finally halted his +team and stared in dull lack of comprehension at what he saw +approaching. + +By now the street beneath the girls was half filled with people; it +echoed to a babble of voices, to the shuffle and tread of a coming +multitude, and an instant later out of every thoroughfare which fronted +upon the grim old prison structure streamed the people of New Orleans. + +"See! They are unarmed!" Oliveta's fingers sank into her sister's wrist. + +Then through the press came a body of silent men, four abreast and +shoulder to shoulder. The crowd opened to let them through, cheering +frenziedly. They wore an air of sober responsibility; they carried +guns, and looked to neither right nor left. Directly beneath the +waiting women they passed, and at their head marched Norvin Blake and +Bernie Dreux together with two men unknown to the girls. + +Vittoria leaned forward horror-stricken, and although she tried to call +she did not hear her voice above the confusion; Oliveta clutched her, +murmuring distractedly. + +The avenues were jammed from curb to curb; telegraph-poles, lamp-posts, +trees held a burden of human forms; windows and house-tops were filling +in every direction; a continuous roar beat thunderously against the +prison walls. + +The army of vigilantes drew up before the main gate, and a man smote it +with the butt of his shotgun, demanding entrance. The crowd, +anticipating a volley from within, surged back, leaving them isolated. +A dozen bluecoats struggled to clear the sidewalks next the structure, +but they might as well have tried to stem a rising tide with their +naked hands; they were buffeted briefly, then swallowed up. + +In answer to a command, the armed men scattered, surrounding the +building with a cordon of steel; then the main body renewed its +assault. But the oaken barrier, stoutly reinforced, withstood them +gallantly, and a brief colloquy occurred, after which they made their +way to a small side door which directly faced the two women across the +street. This was not so heavily constructed as the front gate and +promised an easier entrance; but it was likewise locked and barred. +Then some one spied the wagon and its load of timbers, now hopelessly +wedged into the press, and a rush was made toward it. A beam was raised +upon willing shoulders, and with this as a battering-ram a breach was +begun. + +Every crash was the signal for a shout from the multitude, and when the +door finally gave way a triumphant roar arose. The armed men swarmed +into the opening and disappeared one by one, all but two who stood with +backs to the door and faced the crowd warningly. It was evident that +some sort of order prevailed among them, and that this was more than an +unorganized assault. + +Through the close-packed ranks, on and on around the massive pile, ran +the word that the vigilantes were within; it was telegraphed from +house-top to house-top. Then a silence descended, the more sinister and +ominous because of the pandemonium which had preceded it. + +Thus far Vittoria and her companion had seen and heard all that +occurred, for their position commanded a view of both fronts of the +building; but now they had only their ears to guide them. + +"Come, let us leave now! We have seen enough." Vittoria cried, and +strove to drag Oliveta from her post. But the girl would not yield, she +did not seem to hear, her eyes were fixed with strained and fascinated +horror upon that shattered aperture which showed like a gaping wound. +Her bloodless lips were whispering; her fingers, where they gripped the +iron railing, were like claws. + +"Quickly! Quickly!" moaned Vittoria. "We did not come to see this +monstrous thing. Oliveta, spare yourself!" In the silence her voice +sounded so loudly and shrilly that people on the adjoining balcony +turned curious, uncomprehending faces toward her. + +Moment after moment that hush continued, then from within came a +renewed hammering, hollow, measured; above it sounded the faint cries +of terrified prisoners. This died away after a time, and some one said: + +"They're into the corridors at last. It won't be long now." + +A moment later a dull, unmistakable reverberation rolled forth like the +smothered sound of a subterranean explosion; it was followed by another +and another--gunshots fired within brick walls and flag-paved +courtyards. + +It shattered that sickening, unending suspense which caused the pulse +to flutter and the breath to lag; the crowd gave tongue in a howl of +hoarse delight. Then followed a peculiar shrilling chorus--that +familiar signal known as the "dago whistle"--which was like the +piercing cry of lost souls. "Who killa da Chief?" screamed the +hoodlums, then puckered their lips and piped again that mocking signal. +As the booming of the guns continued, now singly, now in volley, the +maddened populace squeezed toward that narrow entrance through which +the avengers had disappeared; but they were halted by the guards and +forced to content themselves by greeting every shot with an exultant +cry. The streets in all directions were tossing and billowing like the +waves of the sea; men capered and flung their arms aloft, shrieking; +women and children waved their aprons and kerchiefs, sobbing and spent +with excitement. It was a wild and grotesque scene, unspeakably +terrible, inhumanly ferocious. + +Through it the two Sicilian girls clung to each other, fainting, +revolted, fascinated. When they could summon strength they descended to +the street and fought their way out of the bedlam. + +Norvin Blake was not a willing participant in the lynching, although he +had gone to the meeting at Clay Statue determined to do what he +considered his duty. He had felt no doubt as to the outcome of the +mass-meeting even before he saw its giant proportions, and even before +it had sounded its approval of the first speaker's words, for he knew +how deeply his townspeople were stirred by the astounding miscarriage +of justice. At the rally of the Committee on the afternoon previous it +had been urged to proceed with the execution at once, and the counsel +of the more conservative had barely prevailed. Blake knew perhaps +better than his companions to what lengths the rage of a mob will go, +and he confessed to a secret fear of the result. Therefore, although he +marched in the vanguard of the storming party, it was more to exercise +a restraining influence and to prevent violence against unoffending +foreigners, than to take part in the demonstration. As for the actual +shedding of blood, his instinct revolted from it, while his reason +recognized its necessity and defended it. + +Bernie Dreux's amazing assumption of dictatorship had relieved him of +the duty of heading the mob, a thing for which he was profoundly +grateful. When the main body of vigilantes had armed itself, he fell in +beside his friend with some notion of helping and protecting him. But +the little man proved amply equal to the occasion. He was unwaveringly +grim and determined It was he who faced the oaken gate and demanded +entrance in the name of the people; it was he who suggested the use of +the battering-ram; and it was he who first fought his way through the +breach, at the risk of bullets from within. Blake followed to find him +with his fowling-piece at the head of the prison captain, and demanding +the keys to the cells. + +The posse had gained a partial entrance, but another iron-ribbed door +withheld them from the body of the prison, and there followed a delay +while this was broken down. Meanwhile, from within came the sound of +turning locks and of clanging steel doors, also a shuffling of many +feet and cries of mortal terror, which told that the prisoners had been +freed to shift for themselves in this extremity. + +In truth, a scene was being enacted within more terrible than that +outside, for as the deputies released the prisoners, commanding them to +save themselves if they could, a frightful confusion ensued. Not only +did the eleven Sicilians cry to God, but the other inmates of the place +who feared their crimes had overtaken them joined in the appeal. Men +and women, negroes and whites, felons and minor evil-doers, rushed to +and fro along the galleries and passageways, fighting with one another, +tearing one another from places of refuge, seeking new and securer +points of safety. They huddled in dark corners; they crept under beds, +beneath stairways, and into barrels. They burrowed into rubbish piles +only to be dragged out by the hair or the heels and to see their +jealous companions seize upon these sanctuaries. + +Terror is swiftly contagious; the whole place became a seething pit of +dismay. Some knelt and prayed, while others trampled upon them; they +rose from their knees to beat with bleeding fists upon barred doors and +blind partitions; but as their fear of death increased and the chorus +of their despair mounted higher there came another pounding, nearer, +louder--the sound of splitting wood and of rending metal. To escape was +impossible; to remain was madness; of hiding-places there was a fearful +scarcity. + +The regulators came rushing into the prison proper, with footsteps +echoing loudly through the barren corridors. Out into the open court +they swarmed, then up the iron stairways to the galleries that ringed +it about, peering into cells as they went, ousting the wretched inmates +from remotest corners. But the chamber in which they knew their quarry +had been housed was empty, so they paused undecided, while from all +sides came the smothered sounds of terror like the mewling and +squeaking of mice hidden in a wall. + +Suddenly some one shouted, "There they are!" and pointed to the topmost +gallery, which ran in front of the condemned cells. A rush began, but +at the top of the winding stairs another grating barred the way. +Through this, however, could be seen Salvatore di Marco, Giordano +Bolla, and the elder Cressi. The three Sicilians had fled to this last +stronghold, slammed the steel door behind them, and now crouched in the +shelter of a brick column. Some one hammered at the lock, and the +terrified prisoners started to their feet with an agonized appeal for +mercy. As they exposed themselves to view a man fired through the bars. +His aim was true; Di Marco flung his arms aloft and pitched forward on +his face. Crazed by this, his two companions rushed madly back and +forth; but they were securely penned in, and appeal was futile. Another +shot boomed deafeningly in the close confines of the place, and Cressi +plunged to his death; then Bolla followed, his bloody hands gripping +the bars, his face upturned in a hideous grimace, and his eyes, which +stared through at his slayers, glazing slowly. + +Down the ringing stairs marched the grim-featured men who had set +themselves this task, and among them Bernie Dreux strode, issuing +orders. The weapon in his hand was hot, his shoulder was bruised, for +he had long been unaccustomed to the use of firearms. + +Then began a systematic search of the men's department of the prison; +but no new victims were discovered, only the ordinary prisoners who +were well-nigh speechless with fright. + +"Where are the others?" went up the cry, and some one answered: + +"On the women's side." + +The band passed through to the adjoining portion of the double +building, and, keys having been secured, the rapidity of their search +increased. Into the twin courtyard they filed; then while some +investigated the cookhouse others climbed to the topmost tier of cells. +As the quest narrowed, six of the Sicilians, who had lain concealed in +a compartment on the first floor, broke out in a desperate endeavor to +escape, but they were caught between the opposing ranks, as in the jaws +of a trap. The cell door clanged to behind them; they found themselves +at bay in the open yard. Resistance was useless; they sank to their +knees and set up a cry for mercy. They shrieked, they sobbed, they +groveled; but their enemies were open to no appeal, untouched by any +sense of compunction. They were men wholly dominated by a single fixed +idea, as merciless as machines. + +There followed a nightmare scene; a horrid, bellowing uproar of voices +and detonations, of groans and prayers and curses. The armed men +emptied their weapons blindly into that writhing tangle of forms, and +as one finished he stepped back while another took his place. The +prison rocked with the din of it; the wretches were shot to pieces, +riddled, by that horizontal hail which mowed and mangled like an +invisible scythe. Now a figure struggled to its feet only to become the +target for a fusillade; again one twisted in his agony only to be +filled with missiles fired from so short a range that his garments were +torn to rags. The pavement became wet and slippery; in one brief moment +that section of the yard became a shambles. + +Then men went up and poked among the bodies with the hot muzzles of +their rifles, turning the corpses over for identification; and as each +stark face was recognized a name went echoing out through the dingy +corridors to the mob beyond. + +Larubio, the cobbler, had attempted a daring ruse. The firing had +ceased when up out of that limp and sodden heap he rose, his gray hair +matted, his garments streaming. They thrust their rifles against his +chest and killed him quickly. + +Nine men had died by now, and only two remained, Normando and Maruffi. +The former was found shortly, where he had squeezed himself into a +dog-kennel which stood under the stairs; but the vigilantes, it seemed, +had had enough of slaughter, so he was rushed into the street, where +the crowd tore him to pieces as wolves rend a rabbit. Even his garments +were ripped to rags and distributed as ghastly souvenirs. + +Norvin Blake had been a witness to only a part of this brutality, but +what he had seen had sickened him, and had increased his determination +to find Gino Cressi. He shared not at all in the sanguinary exaltation +which possessed his fellow-townsmen; instead he longed for the end and +hoped he would be able to forget what he had seen. He would have fled +but for his fear of what might happen to the Cressi boy. Corridor after +corridor he searched, peering into cells, under cots, into corners and +crannies, while through the cavernous old building the other hunters +stormed. He was hard pressed to keep ahead of them, and when he finally +found the lad they were dose at his heels. + +They came upon him with the lad clinging to his knees, and a shout went +up. + +"Here's the Cressi kid. He gave the signal; let him have it!" + +But Norvin turned upon them, saying: + +"You can't kill this boy." + +"Step aside, Blake," ordered a red-faced man, raising and cocking his +weapon. + +Norvin seized the rifle-barrel and turned it aside roughly. The two +stared at each other with angry eyes. + +"He's only a baby, don't you understand? Good God! You have children of +your own." + +"I--I--" The fellow hesitated. "So he is. Damnation! What has come over +me?" He lowered his gun and turned against the others who were +clamoring behind him. "This is--awful," he murmured, shakingly, when +the crowd had passed on. "I've done all I intend to." He flung his +rifle from him with a gesture of repugnance, and went out of the cell. + +Norvin continued to stand guard over his charge while the search for +Maruffi went on, for he dared not trust these men who had gone mad. +Thus he did not learn that his arch enemy had been taken until he saw +him rushed past in the hands of his captors. Caesar had fought as best +he could against overwhelming odds, and continued to resist now in a +blind fury; but a rope was about his neck, at the end of which were a +dozen running men; a dozen gun-butts hustled him on his way to the open +air. Blake closed the cell door upon Gino Cressi and followed, drawn by +a magnetic force he could not resist. + +The main gate of the prison opened before the rush of that tangled, +growling handful of men, and they swept straight out into the turmoil +that filled the streets. An instant later Maruffi was beset by five +thousand maniacs; he was kicked, he was beaten, he was spat upon, he +was overwhelmed by an avalanche of humanity. His progress to the +gallows was a short but a terrible one, marked by a series of violent +whirlpools which set through that river of people. The uproar was +deafening; spectators screamed hoarsely, but did not hear their voices. + +From where Blake paused beside the gate he traced the Sicilian's +progress plainly, marveling at the fellow's vitality, for it seemed +impossible that any human being could withstand that onslaught. A coil +of rope sailed upward, a negro perched in a tree passed it over a limb, +and the next instant the head and shoulders of the Capo-Mafia rose +above the dense level of standing forms. He was writhing horribly, but, +seizing the rope with his hands, he drew himself upward; his blackened +face glared down upon his executioners. The grinning negro kicked at +the dark head beneath him, once, twice, three times, so violently that +he lost his balance and fell, whereupon a bellowing shout of laughter +arose more terrible than any sound heretofore. Still the Sicilian clung +to the rope which was strangling him. Then puffs of smoke curled up in +the sunshine, and the crowd rolled back upon itself, leaving the gibbet +ringed with armed men. Maruffi's body was swayed and spun as if by +invisible hands; his fingers slipped; he settled downward. + +Blake turned and hid his face against the cold, damp walls, for he was +very sick. + + + + +XXVI + +AT THE DUSK + + + +Within two days the city had regained its customary calm. It had, in +fact, settled down to a more placid mood than at any time since the +murder of Chief Donnelly. Immediately after the lynching the citizens +had dispersed to their homes. No prisoners except the Mafiosi had been +harmed, and of those who had been sought not one had escaped. The +damage to the parish prison did not amount to fifty dollars. Through +the community spread a feeling of satisfaction, which horror at the +terrible details of the slaughter could not destroy. There was nowhere +the slightest effort at dodging responsibility; those who had led in +the assault were the best-known citizens and openly acknowledged their +parts. It was realized now, even more fully than before the event, that +the course pursued had been the only one compatible with public safety; +and, while every one deplored the necessity of lynchings in general, +there was no regret at this one, shocking as it had been. + +This state of mind was reflected by the local press, and, for that +matter, by the press of all the Southern cities where the gravity of +the situation had become known, while to lend it further countenance, +the Cotton Exchange, the Board of Trade, and the Chamber of Commerce +promptly passed resolutions commending the action of the vigilance +committee. There was some talk of legal proceedings; but no one took it +seriously, except the police, who felt obliged to excuse their +dereliction. Of course, the stir was national--international, indeed, +since Italy demanded particulars; but, serene in the sense of an +unpleasant duty thoroughly performed, New Orleans did not trouble to +explain, except by a bare recital of facts. + +In spite of the passive part he had played, Blake was perhaps more +deeply affected by the doings at the prison than any other member of +the party, and during the interval that followed he did not trust +himself to see Vittoria. There was a double reason for this, for he not +only recalled their last interview with consternation, but he still had +a guilty feeling about Myra Nell. On the second afternoon after the +lynching Bernie Dreux dropped in to tell him of his sister's return +from Mobile. + +"She read that I took a hand in the fuss," Bernie explained, "but, of +course, she has no idea I did so much actual shooting. When she told me +she was going to see you this afternoon, I came to warn you not to +expose me." + +"Do you regret your part?" + +"Not the least bit. I'm merely surprised at myself." + +"You surprised all your friends," Blake said, with a smile. "You seem +to have changed lately." + +In truth, the difference in Dreux's bearing was noteworthy, and many +had remarked upon it. The dignity and force which had enveloped the +little beau for the first time when he stood before the assembled +thousands still clung to him; his eyes were steady and bright and +purposeful; he had lost his wavering, deprecatory manner. + +"Yes, I've just come of age," he declared, with some satisfaction. "I +realize that I'm free, white, and twenty-one, for the first time. I'm +going to quit idling and do something." + +"What, for instance?" + +"Well, I'm going to marry Felicite, to begin with, then maybe some of +my friends will give me a job." + +"I will," said Blake. + +"Thanks, but--I'd rather impose on somebody else at the start. I want +to make good on my own merits, understand? I've lived off my relatives +long enough. It's just as bad to let the deceased members of your +family support you as to allow the live ones--" + +"Bernie!" Blake interrupted, gravely. "I'm afraid I won't marry Myra +Nell." + +"You think she won't have you, eh? She has been acting queerly of late; +but leave it to me." + +Norvin was spared the necessity of further explanation by the arrival +of the girl herself. Miss Warren seemed strangely lacking in her usual +abundance of animal spirits; she was obviously ill at ease, and the +sight of her brother did not lessen her embarrassment. During the brief +interchange of pleasantries her eyes were fixed upon Blake with a +troubled gaze. + +"We--I just ran in for a moment," she said, and seemed upon the point +of leaving after inquiring solicitously about his health. + +"My dear," said Bernie, with elaborate unction, "Norvin and I have just +been discussing your engagement." + +Miss Warren gasped and turned pale; Blake stammered. + +With a desperate effort the girl inquired: + +"D--do you love me, Norvin?" + +"Of course I do." + +"See!" Bernie nodded his satisfaction. + +"Oh, Lordy!" said Myra Nell. "I--can't marry you, dear." + +"What?" Blake knew that his expression was changing, and tried to +stifle his relief. + +As for Bernie, he flushed angrily, and his voice rang with his newly +born determination. + +"Don't be silly. Didn't he just say he loved you? And, for heaven's +sake, don't look so scared. We won't devour you." + +"I can't marry him," declared the girl, once more. + +"Why?" + +"Be-because I'm already married! There! Jimmy! I've been trying to get +that out for a month." + +Dreux gasped. "Myra Nell! You're crazy!" + +She nodded, then turned to Blake with a look of entreaty, "P-please +don't kill yourself, dear? I couldn't help it." + +"Why, you poor frightened little thing! I'm delighted! I am indeed," he +told her, reassuringly. + +"Don't you care? Aren't you going to storm and--and raise the dickens?" +she queried. "Maybe this is your way of hiding your despair?" + +"Not at all. I'm glad--so long as you're happy." + +"And you're not mad with anguish nor crushed with--Why, the idea! I'm +perfectly _furious!_ I ran away because I was afraid of you, and I +haven't seen my husband once, not once, do you understand, since we +were married. Oh, you--_brute!_" + +By this time Dreux had recovered his power of speech, and yelled in +furious voice: + +"Who is the reptile?" + +There came a timid rap, the office door opened, and Lecompte Rilleau +inserted his head, saying gently: + +"Me! I! I'm it!" + +Blake rose so suddenly that his chair upset, whereupon Rilleau, who saw +in this abrupt movement a threat, propelled himself fully into view, +crying with determination: + +"Here! Don't you touch her! She's mine! You take it out of me!" + +Blake's answering laugh seemed so out of character that the bridegroom +took it as merely a new phase of insanity, and edged in front of his +wife protectingly. + +"I wanted to come in at first and break the news, but she wouldn't let +me," he explained. + +"You have a weak heart. You--you mustn't fight!" implored Myra Nell; +but Lecompte only shrugged. + +[Illustration: "P-PLEASE DON'T KILL YOURSELF, DEAR? I COULDN'T HELP IT"] + +"That's all a bluff." Then to Norvin: "I'll admit it _was_ a mean +trick, and I guess my heart really might have petered out if she'd +married you; but I'm all right now, and you can have satisfaction." + +"I don't know whether to be angry or amused at you children," Norvin +told them. "Understand, once for all, that our engagement wasn't +serious. There have been a lot of mistakes and +misunderstandings--that's all. Now tell us how and when this all +happened." + +"Y-yes!" echoed Bernie, who was still dazed. + +Myra Nell seemed more chagrined than relieved. + +"It was perfectly simple," she informed them. "It happened during the +Carnival. I--never heard a man talk the way he did, and I was really +worried about his heart. I said no--for fifteen minutes, then we +arranged to be married secretly. When it was all over, I was frightened +and ran away. You're such a deep, desperate, unforgiving person, +Norvin. I--I think it was positively horrid of you." + +"Good Lord!" breathed her brother. "What a perverted sense of +responsibility!" + +"Are we forgiven?" + +"It's all right with me, if it is with Norvin," said Bernie, somewhat +doubtfully. + +"Forgiven?" Blake took the youthful pair by the hands, and in his eyes +was a brightness they had never seen. "Of course you are, and let me +tell you that you haven't cornered all the love in the world. I've +never cared but for one woman. Perhaps you will wish me as much +happiness as I wish you both?" + +"Then you have found your Italian girl?" queried Myra Nell, with +flashing eagerness. + +"Vittoria!" + +"Vittoria!" Miss Warren shrieked. "Vittoria--a _countess!_ So, she's +the one who spoiled everything?" + +"Gee! You'll be a count," said Rilleau. + +There followed a period of laughing, incoherent explanations, and then +the beaming bridegroom tugged at Myra Nell's sleeve, saying: + +"Now that it's all over, I'm mighty tired of being a widower." + +She flung her arms about his neck and lifted her blushing face to his, +explaining to her half-brother, when she could: + +"I don't know what you'll do without some one to look after you, +Bernie, but--it's perfectly grand to elope." + +Dreux rose with a grin and winked at Norvin as he said: + +"Oh, don't mind me. I'll get along all right." And seizing his hat he +rushed out with his thin face all ablaze. When Blake was finally alone, +he closed his desk and with bounding heart set out for the foreign +quarter. His day had dawned; he could hardly contain himself. But, as +he neared his goal, strange doubts and indecisions arose in his mind; +and when he had reached Oliveta's house he passed on, lacking courage +to enter. He decided it was too soon after the tragedy at the parish +prison to press his suit; that to intrude himself now would be in +offensively bad taste. Then, too, he began to reason that if Margherita +had wished to see him she would have sent for him--all in all, the hour +was decidedly unpropitious. He dared not risk his future happiness upon +a blundering, ill-timed declaration; therefore he walked onward. But no +sooner had he passed the house than a thousand voices urged him to +return, in this the hour of the girl's loneliness, and lay his devotion +at her feet. Torn thus by hesitation and by the sense of his +unworthiness, he walked the streets, hour after hour. At one moment he +approached the house desperately determined; the next he fled, mastered +by the fear of dismissal. So he continued his miserable wanderings on +into the dusk. + +Twilight was settling when Margherita Ginini finished her packing. The +big living-room was stripped of its furnishings; trunks and cases stood +about in a desolate confusion. There was no look of home or comfort +remaining anywhere, and the whole house echoed dismally to her +footsteps. From the rear came the sound of Oliveta's listless +preparations. + +Pausing at an open window, Margherita looked down upon the street which +she had grown to love--the suggestion of darkness had softened it, +mellowed it with a twilight beauty, like the face of an old friend seen +in the glow of lamplight. The shouting of urchins at play floated +upward, stirring the chords of motherhood in her breast and emphasizing +her loneliness. With Oliveta gone what would be left? Nothing but an +austere life compressed within drab walls; nothing but sickness and +suffering on every side. She had begun to think a great deal about +those walls of late and--The bells of a convent pealed out softly in +the distance, bringing a tightness to her throat. In spite of herself +she shuddered. Those laughing children's voices mocked at her empty +life. They seemed always to jeer at that hungry mother-love, but never +quite so loudly as now. She remembered surprising Norvin Blake at play +with these very children one day, and the half-abashed, half-defiant +light in his eyes when he discovered her watching him. Thinking of him, +she recalled just such another twilight hour as this when, in a whirl +of shamed emotion, she had been compelled to face the fact of her love. +A sudden trembling weakness seized her at the memory, and she saw again +those cold gray walls, which never echoed to the gleeful crowing of +babes or the thrilling merriment of little voices. In that brief hour +of her awakening life had opened gloriously, bewilderingly, only to +close again, leaving her soul bruised and sore with rebellion. + +She crossed the floor listlessly in answer to a knock, for the repeated +attentions of her neighbors, although sincere and touching, were +intrusive; then she fell back at sight of the man who entered. + +The magic of this evening hour had brought him to her in spite of all +his fears; but his heart was in his throat, and he could hardly manage +a greeting. As he passed the threshold of the disordered room he looked +round him in dismay. + +"What is this?" he asked. + +"Oliveta is going home to Sicily. It is our parting." + +"And you?" + +"To-morrow--I go to the Sisters." + +"No, no!" he cried, in a voice which thrilled her. "I won't let you. +For hours I've been trying to come here--Dearest, don't answer until +you know everything. Sometimes I fear I was the one who was dreaming at +that moment when you confessed you loved me, for it is all so +unreal--But my love is not unreal. It has lived with me night and day +since that first moment at Terranova--I couldn't speak before, but all +these years seem only hours, and I've been living in the gardens of +Sicily where you first smiled at me and awoke this love. You asked me +to take no part--I had to refuse--I've tried to make a man of myself, +not for my own sake, not for what the world would say, but for you--" + +In the tumult of feeling that his words aroused she held fast to one +thought. + +"What--what about Myra Nell?" she gasped. + +"Myra Nell is married!" + +The curling lashes which had lain half closed during his headlong +speech flew open to display a look of wonderment and dawning gladness. + +"Yes," he reiterated. "She is married. She has been married ever since +the Carnival, and she's very happy. But I didn't know. I was tied by a +miserable misunderstanding, so I couldn't come to you honestly until +today. And now--I--I'm--afraid--" + +"What do you fear?" she heard herself say. The breathless delight of +this moment was so intense that she toyed with it, fearing to lose the +smallest part. She withheld the confession trembling upon her lips +which he was too timid to take for granted, too blind to see. + +"Can you take me, in spite of my wretched cowardice back there in +Sicily? I would understand, dear, if you couldn't forget it, but--I +love you so--I tried so hard to make myself worthy--you'll never know +how hard it was--I couldn't do what you asked me, the other day, but, +thank God, my hands are clean." + +He held them out as if in evidence; then, to his great, his +never-ending surprise, she came forward and placed her two palms in +his. She stood looking gravely at him, her surrender plain in the curve +of her tremulous lip, the droop of her faltering, silk-fringed lids. + +Knowledge came to him with a blinding, suffocating suddenness which set +his brain to reeling and wrung a rapturous cry from his throat. + +After a long time he felt her shudder in his arms. + +"What is it, heart of my life?" he whispered, without lifting his lips +from her tawny cloud of hair. + +"Those walls!" she said. "Those cold, gray walls!" + +A sob rose, caught, then changed to a laugh of deep contentment, and +she nestled closer. + +Children's voices were wafted up to them through the fragrant, peaceful +dusk, and the two fell silent again, until Oliveta came and stood +beside them with her face transfigured. + +"God be praised!" said the peasant girl, as she put her hands in +theirs. "Something told me I should not return to Sicily alone." + + + + +THE END + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Net, by Rex Beach + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NET *** + +***** This file should be named 6379.txt or 6379.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/7/6379/ + +Produced by Beth Constantine, Juliet Sutherland, Charles +Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Net + +Author: Rex Beach + +Release Date: August, 2004 [EBook #6379] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on December 3, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE NET *** + + + + +Beth Constantine, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + +[Illustration: "I DO NOT KNOW WHY I HAVE SUMMONED YOU," SHE SAID] + + + + +THE NET + + + + +A NOVEL + +By REX BEACH + +Author of "The Spoilers," "The Barrier," "The Silver Horde," Etc. + + + +WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS BY WALTER TITTLE + + + + +CONTENTS + + + +CHAP. + +I. THE TRAIN FROM PALERMO + +II. A CONFESSION AND A PROMISE + +III. THE GOLDEN GIRL + +IV. THE FEAST AT TERRANOVA + +V. WHAT WAITED AT THE ROADSIDE + +VI. A NEW RESOLVE + +VII. THE SEARCH BEGINS + +VIII. OLD TRAILS + +IX. "ONE WHO KNOWS" + +X. MYRA NELL WARREN + +XI. THE KIDNAPPING + +XII. LA MAFIA XIII. THE BLOOD OF HIS ANCESTORS + +XIV. THE NET TIGHTENS + +XV. THE END OF THE QUEST + +XVI. QUARANTINE + +XVII. AN OBLIGATION IS MET + +XVIII. BELISARIO CARDI + +XIX. FELICITE + +XX. THE MAN IN THE SHADOWS + +XXI. UNDER FIRE + +XXII. A MISUNDERSTANDING + +XXIII. THE TRIAL AND THE VERDICT + +XXIV. AT THE FEET OF THE STATUE + +XXV. THE APPEAL + +XXVI. AT THE DUSK + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +"I DO NOT KNOW WHY I HAVE SUMMONED YOU,' SHE SAID _Frontispiece_ + +"SILENZIO!" HE GROWLED, "I PLAY MY OWN GAME, AND I LOSE" + +HE WRESTLED FOR POSSESSION OF THE GUN + +"P-PLEASE DON'T KILL YOURSELF, DEAR? I COULDN'T HELP IT" + + + + +I + +THE TRAIN FROM PALERMO + + + +The train from Palermo was late. Already long, shadowy fingers were +reaching down the valleys across which the railroad track meandered. +Far to the left, out of an opalescent sea, rose the fairy-like Lipari +Islands, and in the farthest distance Stromboli lifted its smoking +cone above the horizon. On the landward side of the train, as it +reeled and squealed along its tortuous course, were gray and gold +Sicilian villages perched high against the hills or drowsing among +fields of artichoke and sumac and prickly pear. + +To one familiar with modern Sicilian railway trains the journey +eastward from Palermo promises no considerable discomfort, but +twenty-five years ago it was not to be lightly undertaken--not to be +undertaken at all, in fact, without an unusual equipment of patience +and a resignation entirely lacking in the average Anglo-Saxon. It was +not surprising, therefore, that Norvin Blake, as the hours dragged +along, should remark less and less upon the beauties of the island and +more and more upon the medieval condition of the rickety railroad +coach in which he was shaken and buffeted about. He shifted himself to +an easier position upon the seat and lighted a cheroot; for although +this was his first glimpse of Sicily, he had watched the same villages +come and go all through a long, hot afternoon, had seen the same +groves of orange and lemon and dust-green olive-trees, the same fields +of Barbary figs, the same rose-grown garden spots, until he was +heartily tired of them all. He felt at liberty to smoke, for the only +other occupant of the compartment was a young priest in flowing mantle +and silk beaver hat. + +Finding that Blake spoke Italian remarkably well for a foreigner, the +priest had shown an earnest desire for closer acquaintance and now +plied him eagerly with questions, hanging upon his answers with a +childlike intensity of gaze which at first had been amusing. + +"And so the Signore has traveled all the way from Paris to attend the +wedding at Terranova. Veramente! That is a great journey. Many +wonderful adventures befell you, perhaps. Eh?" The priest's little +eyes gleamed from his full cheeks, and he edged forward until his +knees crowded Blake's. It was evident that he anticipated a thrilling +tale and did not intend to be disappointed. + +"It was very tiresome, that's all, and the beggars at Naples nearly +tore me asunder." + +"Incredible! You will tell me about it?" + +"There's nothing to tell. These European trains cannot compare with +ours." + +Evidently discouraged at this lack of response, the questioner tried a +new line of approach. + +"The Signore is perhaps related to our young Conte?" he suggested. +"And yet that can scarcely be, for you are Inglese--" + +"Americano." + +"Indeed?" + +"Martel and I are close friends, however. We met in Paris. We are +almost like brothers." + +"Truly! I have heard that he spends much time studying to be a great +painter. It is very strange, but many of our rich people leave Sicily +to reside elsewhere. As for me, I cannot understand it." + +"Martel left when his father was killed. He says this country is +behind the times, and he prefers to be out in the world where there is +life and where things progress." + +But the priest showed by a blank stare that he did not begin to grasp +the meaning of this statement. He shook his head. "He was always a +wild lad. Now as to the Signorina Ginini, who is to be his beautiful +Contessa, she loves Sicily. She has spent most of her life here among +us." + +With a flash of interest Blake inquired: "What is she like? Martel has +spoken of her a great many times, but one can't place much dependence +on a lover's description." + +"Bellissima!" the priest sighed, and rolled his eyes eloquently. "You +have never seen anything like her, I assure you. She is altogether too +beautiful. If I had my way all the beautiful women would be placed in +a convent where no man could see them. Then there would be no fighting +and no flirting, and the plain women could secure husbands. Beautiful +women are dangerous. She is rich, too." + +"Of course! That's what Martel says, and that is exactly the way he +says it. But describe her." + +"Oh, I have never seen her! I merely know that she is very rich and +very beautiful." He went off into a number of rapturous "issimas!" +"Now as for the Conte, I know him like a book. I know his every +thought." + +"But Martel has been abroad for ten years, and he has only returned +within a month." + +"To be sure, but I come from the village this side of San Sebastiano, +and my second cousin Ricardo is his uomo d'affare--his overseer. It +is a very great position of trust which Ricardo occupies, for I must +tell you that he attends to the leasing of the entire estate during +the Conte's absence in France, or wherever it is he draws those +marvelous pictures. Ricardo collects the rents." With true Sicilian +naivete the priest added: "He is growing rich! Beato lui! He for one +will not need to go to your golden America. Is it true, Signore, that +in America any one who wishes may be rich?" + +"Quite true," smiled the young man. "Even our beggars are rich." + +The priest wagged his head knowingly. "My mother's cousin, Alfio +Amato, he is an American. You know him?" + +"I'm afraid not." + +"But surely--he has been in America these five years. A tall, dark +fellow with fine teeth. Think! He is such a liar any one would +remember him. Ebbene! _He_ wrote that there were poor people in +America as here, but we knew him too well to believe him." + +"I suppose every one knows about the marriage?" + +"Oh, indeed! It will unite two old families--two rich families. You +know the Savigni are rich also. Even before the children were left as +orphans it was settled that they should be married. What a great +fortune that will make for Ricardo to oversee! Then, perhaps, he will +be more generous to his own people. He is a hard man in money matters, +and a man of action also; he does not allow flies to sit upon his +nose. He sent his own daughter Lucrezia to Terranova when the Contessa +was still a child, and what is the result? Lucrezia is no longer a +servant. Indeed no, she is more like a sister to the Signorina. At the +marriage no doubt she will receive a fine present, and Ricardo as +well. He is as silent as a Mafioso, but he thinks." + +Young Blake stretched his tired muscles, yawning. + +"I'm sorry Martel couldn't marry in France; this has been a tedious +trip." + +"It was the Contessa's wish, then, to be wed in Sicily?" + +"I believe she insisted. And Martel agreed that it was the proper +thing to do, since they are both Sicilians. He was determined also +that I should be present to share his joy, and so here I am. Between +you and me, I envy him his lot so much that it almost spoils for me +the pleasure of this unique journey." + +"You are an original!" murmured the priest, admiringly, but it was +evident that his thirst for knowledge of the outside world was not to +be so easily quenched, for he began to question his traveling +companion closely regarding America, Paris, the journey thence, the +ship which bore him to Palermo, and a dozen other subjects upon which +his active mind preyed. He was full of the gossip of the countryside, +moreover, and Norvin learned much of interest about Sicily and the +disposition of her people. One phenomenon to which the good man +referred with the extremest wonder was Blake's intimacy with a +Sicilian nobleman. How an American signore had become such a close +friend of the illustrious Conte, who was almost a stranger, even to +his own people, seemed very puzzling indeed, until Norvin explained +that they had been together almost constantly during the past three +years. + +"We met quite by chance, but we quickly became friends--what in my +country we call chums--and we have been inseparable ever since." + +"And you, then, are also a great artist?" + +Blake laughed at the indirect compliment to his friend. + +"I am not an artist at all. I have been exiled to Europe for three +years, upon my mother's orders. She has her own ideas regarding a +man's education and wishes me to acquire a Continental polish. My +ability to tell you all this shows that I have at least made progress +with the languages, although I have doubts about the practical value +of anything else I have learned. Martel has taught me Italian; I have +taught him English. We use both, and sometimes we understand each +other. My three years are up now, and once I have seen my good friend +safely married I shall return to America and begin the serious +business of life." + +"You are then in business? My mother's cousin, Alfio Amato, is +likewise a business man. He deals in fruit. Beware of him, for he +would sell you rotten oranges and swear by the saints that they were +excellent." + +"Like Martel, I have land which I lease. I am, or I will be, a +cotton-planter." + +This opened a new field of inquiry for the priest, who was making the +most of it when the train drew into a station and was stormed by a +horde of chattering country folk. The platform swarmed with vividly +dressed women, most of whom carried bundles wrapped up in variegated +handkerchiefs, and all of whom were tremendously excited at the +prospect of travel. Lean-visaged, swarthy men peered forth from the +folds of shawls or from beneath shapeless caps of many colors; a pair +of carabinieri idled past, a soldier in jaunty feathered hat posed +before the contadini. Dogs, donkeys, fowls added their clamor to the +high-pitched voices. + +Twilight had settled and lights were kindling in the village, while +the heights above were growing black against a rose-pink and +mother-of-pearl sky. The air was cool and fragrant with the odor of +growing things and the open sea glowed with a subdued, pulsating fire. + +The capo stazione rushed madly back and forth striving by voice and +gesture to hasten the movements of his passengers. + +"Partenza! Pronto!" he cried, then blew furiously upon his bugle. + +After a series of shudders and convulsions the train began to hiss and +clank and finally crept on into the twilight, while the priest sat knee to +knee with his companion and resumed his endless questioning. + +It was considerably after dark when Norvin Blake alighted at San +Sebastiano, to be greeted effusively by a young man of about his own +age who came charging through the gloom and embraced him with a great +hug. + +"So! At last you come!" Savigno cried. "I have been here these three +hours eating my heart out, and every time I inquired of that head of a +cabbage in yonder he said, 'Pazienza! The world was not made in a +day!' + +"'But when? When?' I kept repeating, and he could only assure me that +your train was approaching with the speed of the wind. The saints in +heaven--even the superintendent of the railway himself--could not tell +the exact hour of its arrival, which, it seems, is never twice the +same. And now, yourself? You are well?" + +"Never better. And you? But there is no need to ask. You look +disgustingly contented. One would think you were already married." + +Martel Savigno showed a row of even, white teeth beneath his military +mustache and clapped his friend affectionately on the back. + +"It is good to be among my own people. I find, after all, that I am a +Sicilian. But let me tell you, that train is not always late. Once, +seven years ago, it arrived upon the moment. There were no passengers +at the station to meet it, however, so it was forced to wait, and now, +in order to keep our good-will it always arrives thus." + +The Count was a well-set-up youth of an alert and active type, tall, +dark, and vivacious, with a skin as smooth as a girl's. He had an +impulsive, energetic nature that seldom left him in repose, and hence +the contrast between the two men was marked, for Blake was of a more +serious cast of features and possessed a decidedly Anglo-Saxon +reserve. He was much the heavier in build, also, which detracted from +his height and robbed him of that elegance which distinguished the +young Sicilian. Yet the two made a fine-looking pair as they stood +face to face in the yellow glare of the station lights. + +"What the deuce made me agree to this trip, I don't know," the +American declared. "It was vile. I've been carsick, seasick, homesick--" + +"And all for poor, lovesick Martel!" The Count laughed. "Ah, but if +you knew how glad I am to see you!" + +"Really? Then that squares it." Blake spoke with that indefinable +undernote which creeps into men's voices when friend meets friend. +"I've been lost without you, too. I was quite ashamed of myself." + +The Count turned to a middle-aged man who had remained in the shadows, +saying: "This is Ricardo Ferara, my good right hand, of whom you have +heard me speak." The overseer raised his hat, and Blake took his hand, +catching a glimpse of a grizzled face and a stiff mop of iron-gray +hair. "You will see to Signore Blake's baggage, Ricardo. Michele! +Ippolito!" the Count called. "The carretta, quickly! And now, caro +Norvin, for the last leg of your journey. Will you ride in the cart or +on horseback? It is not far, but the roads are steep." + +"Horseback, by all means. My muscles need exercise." + +The young men mounted a pair of compact Sicilian horses, which were +held by still another man in the street behind the depot, and set off +up the winding road which climbed to the village above. Blake +regretted the lateness of the hour, which prevented him from gaining +an adequate idea of his surroundings. He could see, however, that they +were picturesque, for San Sebastiano lay in a tiny step hewed out of +the mountain-side and was crowded into one street overlooking the +railway far below and commanding a view of the sea toward the +Calabrian coast. As the riders clattered through the poorly lighted +village, Blake saw the customary low-roofed houses, the usual squalid +side-streets, more like steep lanes than thoroughfares, and heard the +townspeople pronouncing the name of the Count of Martinello, while the +ever-present horde of urchins fled from their path. A beggar appeared +beside his stirrup, crying, "I die of hunger, your worship." But the +fellow ran with surprising vigor and manifested a degree of endurance +quite unexampled in a starving man. A glimpse of these, and then the +lights were left behind and they were moving swiftly upward and into +the mountains, skirting walls of stone over which was wafted the +perfume of many flowers, passing fragrant groves of orange and lemon +trees, and less fragrant cottages, the contents of which were bared to +their eyes with utter lack of modesty. They disturbed herds of drowsy +cattle and goats lying at the roadside, and all the time they +continued to climb, until their horses heaved and panted. + +The American's impressions of this entire journey, from the time of +his leaving Paris up to the present moment, had been hurried and +unreal, for he had made close connections at Rome, at Naples, and at +Palermo. Having the leisurely deliberateness of the American +Southerner, he disliked haste and confusion above all things. He had +an intense desire, therefore, to come to anchor and to adjust himself +to his surroundings. + +As Martel chattered along, telling of his many doings, Blake noted +that Ricardo and the man who had held the horses were following +closely. Then, as the cavalcade paused at length to breathe their +mounts, he saw that both men carried rifles. + +"Why! We look like an American sheriff's posse, Martel," said he. "Do +all Sicilian bridegrooms travel with an armed escort?" + +Savigno showed a trace of hesitation. "The nights are dark; the +country is wild." + +"But, my dear boy, this country is surely old enough to be safe. Why, +Sicily was civilized long before my country was even heard of. All +sorts of ancient gods and heroes used to live here, I am told, and I +supposed Diana had killed all the game long ago." + +He laughed, but Savigno did not join him, and a moment later they were +under way again. + +After a brief gallop they drew up at a big, dark house, hidden among +the deeper shadows of many trees, and in answer to Martel's shout a +wide door was flung back; then by the light which streamed forth from +it they dismounted and made their way up a flight of stone steps. Once +inside, Savigno exclaimed: + +"Welcome to my birthplace! A thousand welcomes!" Seizing Norvin by the +shoulders, he whirled him about. "Let me see you once. Ah! I am glad +you made this sacrifice for me, for I need you above all men." His +eyes, though bright with affection, were grave--something unusual in +him--and the other inquired, quickly: + +"There's nothing wrong, I hope?" + +Savigno tossed his head and smiled. + +"Wrong! What could be wrong with me now that you are here? No! All is +quite right, but I have been accursed with lonesomeness. Something was +lacking, It was you, caro mio. Now, however, I am the most contented +of mortals. But you must be famished, so I will show you to your room +at once. Francesca has provided a feast for us, I assure you." + +"Give me a moment to look around. So this is the castello? Jove! It's +ripping!" + +Blake found himself in a great hall similar to many he had seen in his +European wanderings, but ruder and older by far. He judged the +castello to be of Norman build, but remodeled to suit the taste of the +Savigni. To the right, through an open door, he saw a large room where +a fat Sicilian woman was laying the table; to the left was a drawing-room +lighted only by a fire of fagots in a huge, black fireplace, the +furniture showing curiously distorted in the long shadows. Other rooms +opened towards the rear, and he realized that the old place was very +large. It was unkempt also, and showed the lack of a woman's hand. + +"You exaggerate!" said Savigno. "After Paris the castello will seem +very mean. We Siciliani do not live in grand style, and, besides, I +have spent practically no time here, since my father (may the saints +receive him) left me free to wander. The place has been closed; the +old servants have gone; it is dilapidated." + +"On the contrary, it's just the sort of place it should be--venerable +and overflowing with romance. You must rule like a medieval baron. +Why, you could sell this woodwork to some millionaire countryman of +mine for enough to realize a fortune." + +"Per Dio! If taxes are not reduced I shall be forced to some such +expedient," the Count laughed. "It was my mother's home, it is my +birthplace, so I love it--even though I neglect it. As you perceive, +it is high time I took a wife. But enough! If you are lacking in +appetite, I am not, and Francesca is an unbearable tyrant when her +meals grow cold." + +He led his friend up the wide stairs and left him to prepare for +supper. + +"And so this ends it all," said Blake, as the two young men lounged in +the big, empty drawing-room later that evening. They had dined and +gossiped as only friends of their age can gossip, had relived their +adventures of the past three years, and still were loath to part, even +for sleep. + +"How so?" queried Savigno. "You speak of marriage as if it were +dissolution." + +"It might as well be, so far as the other fellow is concerned." + +"Nonsense! I shall not change." + +"Oh, yes, you will! Besides, I am returning to America." + +"Even so, we are rich; we shall travel; we shall meet frequently. You +will come to Sicily. Perhaps the Contessa and I may even go to +America. Friendship such as ours laughs at the leagues." + +But Blake was pessimistic. "Perhaps she won't like me." + +Martel laughed at this. + +"Impossible! She is a woman, she has eyes, she will see you as I see +you. More than that, I have told her that she must love you." + +"Then that does settle it! You have hung the crepe on our future +intimacy, for good and all. She will instruct your cook to put a +spider in my dumpling or to do away with me by some characteristic +Sicilian method." + +Martel seemed puzzled by the Americanism of this speech, but Norvin +merely smiled and changed to Italian. + +"Do you really love her?" he asked. + +"Of course! Since I was a boy so high I have known we would marry. She +adores me, she is young, she is beautiful, she is--rich!" + +"In Heaven's name don't use that tone in speaking of her wealth. You +make me doubt you." + +"No, no!" The Count smiled. "It would be the same if she were a +peasant girl. We shall be so happy--oh, there is no expressing how +happy we intend being." + +"I've no doubt. And that makes it quite certain to end our +comradeship." + +"You croak like a raven!" declared the Sicilian. "What has soured +you?" + +"Nothing. I am a wise young man, that's all. You see, happiness is +all-sufficient; it needs nothing to complete itself. It is a wall +beyond which the owner does not care to wander, so, when you are quite +happy with the new Countess, you will forget your friends of unmarried +days." + +"Would you then have me unhappily married?" + +"By no means. I am full of regrets at losing you, nothing more." + +"It is plain, then, that you also must marry. Is there no admirable +American lady?" + +"Any quantity of them, but I don't care much for women except in an +impersonal sort of way, or perhaps I don't attract them. I might enjoy +falling in love if it were not such a tedious process." + +"It is not necessarily tedious. One may love with the suddenness of an +explosion. I have done so, many times." + +"I know you have, but you are a Sicilian; we go about such things in a +dignified and respectable manner. Love is a serious matter with us. We +don't explode." + +"Yes. When you love, you marry; and you marry in the same way you buy +a farm. But we have blood in our veins and lime in our bones. I have +loved many women to distraction; there is only one whom I would +marry." + +Ricardo entered at the moment, and the Count arose with a word of +apology to his guest. He spoke earnestly with his overseer, but, as +they were separated from him by the full width of the great room, +Blake overheard no more than a word now and then. They were speaking +in the Sicilian dialect, moreover, which was unfamiliar to him, yet he +caught the mention of Ippolito, one of the men who had met him at the +station, also of an orange-grove, and the word "Mafioso." Then he +heard Martel say: + +"The shells for the new rifle--Ippolito is a bad shot--take plenty." + +When Ricardo had gone and the Count had returned to his seat, Norvin +fancied he detected once more that grave look he had surprised in his +friend's countenance upon their arrival at the castello. + +"What were you telling Ricardo about rifles and cartridges?" he +inquired. + +"Eh? It was nothing. We are forced to guard our oranges; there are +thieves about. I have been too long away from Martinello." + +Later, as Norvin Blake composed himself to sleep he wondered idly if +Martel had told him the whole truth. He recalled again the faint, +grave lines that had gathered about the Count's eyes, where there had +never been aught but wrinkles of merriment, and he recalled also that +word "Mafioso." It conjured memories of certain tales he had heard of +Sicilian outlawry and brigandage, and of that evil, shadowy society of +"Friends" which he understood dominated this island. There was a story +about the old Count's death also, but Martel had never told him much. +Norvin tried to remember what it was, but sleep was heavy upon him and +he soon gave up. + + + + +II + +A CONFESSION AND A PROMISE + + + +Norvin Blake slept soundly, as befitted a healthy young man with less +than the usual number of cares upon his mind, and, notwithstanding the +fact that he had retired at a late hour, somewhat worn by his journey, +he awoke earlier than usual. Still lacking an adequate idea of his +surroundings, he arose and, flinging back the blinds of his window, +looked out upon a scene which set him to dressing eagerly. + +The big front door of the hall below was barred when he came down, and +only yielded to his efforts with a clanging which would have awakened +any one except Martel, letting him out upon a well-kept terrace +beneath which the hills fell away in majestic sweeps and curves to the +coast-line far beneath. + +It was a true Sicilian morning, filled with a dazzling glory of color, +and although it was not early, from a countryman's point of view, the +dewy freshness had not entirely faded, and rosy tints still lingered +in the valleys and against the Calabrian coast in the distance. An +odor of myrtle and jessamine came from a garden beneath the outer +terrace wall, and on either side of the manor rose wooded hills the +lower slopes of which were laid out in vineyards and groves of citrus +fruits. + +Having in full measure the normal man's unaffected appreciation of +nature, Blake found himself wondering how Martel could ever leave this +spot for the artificialities of Paris. The Count was amply able to +live where he chose, and it was no love for art which had kept him in +France these many years. On the contrary, they had both recognized the +mediocrity of his talent and had often joked about it. It was perhaps +no more than a youthful restlessness and craving for excitement, he +concluded. + +Knowing that his luxurious host would not be stirring for another +hour, he set out to explore the place at his leisure, and in time came +around to the stables and outhouses. It is not the front of any +residence which shows its real character, any more than a woman's true +nature is displayed by her Sunday attire. Norvin made friends with a +surly, stiff-haired dog, then with a patriarchal old goat which he +found grazing atop a wall, and at last he encountered Francesca +bearing a bundle of fagots upon her head. + +She was in a bad temper, it appeared, for in answer to his cheerful +greeting she began to revile the names of Ippolito and Michele. + +"Lazy pigs!" she cried, fiercely. "Is it not sufficient that old +Francesca should bare her bones and become a shadow with the cares of +the household? Is it not sufficient that she performs the labor of +twenty in caring for the padrone? No! Is it not the devil's task to +prepare the many outlandish delicacies he learned to eat in his +travels? Yes! Ha! What of that! She must also perform the duties of an +ass and bear wood for the fires! And what, think you, those two young +giants are doing all the day? Sleeping, Si'or! Up all night, asleep +all day! A fine business. And Francesca with a broken back!" + +"I'll carry your wood," he offered, at which the mountainous old woman +stared at him as if she did not in the least comprehend his words. +Although her burden was enough to tax a man's strength, she balanced +it easily upon her head and made no move to go. + +"And the others! May they all be blinded--Attilio, Gaspare, Roberto! +The hangman will get them, surely. Briganti, indeed!" She snorted like +a horse. "May Belisario Cardi roast them over these very fagots." +Slowly she moved her head from side to side while the bundle swayed +precariously. "It is a bad business, Si'or. The padrone is mad to +resist. You may tell him he is quite mad. Mark me, Ricardo knows that +no good will come of it, but he is like a bull when he is angry. He +lowers his head and sees blood. Veramente, it is a bad business and we +shall all lose our ears." She moved off majestically, her eyes rolling +in her fat cheeks, her lips moving; leaving the American to speculate +as to what her evil prediction had to do with Ippolito and the +firewood. + +He was still smiling at her anger when Ippolito himself, astride a +horse, came clattering into the courtyard and dismounted stiffly, +giving him a good morning with a wide yawn. + +"Corpo di Baccho!" exclaimed the rider. "I shall sleep for a century." +He stretched luxuriously and, unslinging a gun from his shoulder, +leaned it against the wall. Blake was surprised to find it a late +model of an American repeating rifle. "Francesca!" he called loudly. +"Madonna mia, I am famished!" + +"Francesca was here a moment ago," Norvin volunteered. "In a frightful +temper, too." + +"Just so! It was the wood, I presume." He scowled. "One cannot be in +ten places unless he is in ten pieces. I am glad to be here, and not +here and there." + +"Well, she wants you roasted by some fellow named Cardi--" + +"Eh? What?" Ippolito started, jerking the horse's head by the bridle +rein, through which he had thrust his arm. "What is this?" + +"Belisario Cardi, I believe she said. I don't know him." + +The Sicilian muttered an oath and disappeared into the stable; he was +still scowling when he emerged. + +Prompted by a feeling that he was close to something mysterious, Blake +tried to sound the fellow. + +"You are abroad early," he suggested. + +But Ippolito seemed in no mood for conversation, and merely replied: + +"Si, Signore, quite early." + +He was a lean, swarthy youth, square-jawed and well put up. Although +his clothes were poor, he wore them with a certain grace and moved +like a man who is sure of himself. + +"Did you see any robbers?" + +"Robbers?" Ippolito's look was one of quick suspicion. "Who has ever +seen a robber?" + +"Come, come! I heard the Count and Ricardo talking. You have been +away, among the orange-groves, all night. Am I right?" + +"You are right." + +"Tell me, is it common thieves or outlaws whom you watch? I have heard +about your brigands." + +"Ippolito!" came the harsh voice of Ricardo, who at that moment +appeared around the corner of the stable. "In the kitchen you will +find food." + +Ippolito bowed to the American and departed, his rifle beneath his +arm. + +Blake turned his attention to the overseer, for his mind, once filled +with an idea, was not easily satisfied. But Ricardo would give him no +information. He raised his bushy, gray eyebrows at the American's +question. + +"Brigands? Ippolito is a great liar." + +Seeing the angry sparkle in the old fellow's eyes, Norvin hastened to +say: + +"He told me nothing, I assure you." + +"Thieves, yes! We have ladri here, as elsewhere. Sometimes it is well +to take precautions." + +"But Francesca was quite excited, and I heard you and Martel mention +La Mafia last night," Blake persisted. "I see you all go armed. I am +naturally curious. I thought you might be in trouble with the +society." + +"Children's tales!" said Ricardo, gruffly. "There is no society of La +Mafia." + +"Oh, see here! We have it even in my own country. The New Orleans +papers have been full of stories about the Mala Vita, the Mafia, or +whatever you choose to call it. There is a big Italian population +there, you know, and they are causing our police a great deal of +worry. I live in Louisiana, so I ought to know. We understand it's an +offshoot of the Sicilian Mafia." + +"In Naples I hear there is a Camorra. But this is Sicily. We have no +societies." + +"Nevertheless, I heard you say something about 'Mafioso' last night," +Blake insisted. + +"Perhaps," grudgingly admitted the overseer. "But La Mafia is not a +man, not a society, as you say. It is--" He made a wide gesture. "It +is all Sicily. You do not understand." + +"No, I do not." + +"Very well. One does not speak of it. Would the Signore care to see +the horses?" + +"Thank you, yes." + +The two went into the stables together, and Blake for the time gave up +the hope of learning anything further about Sicilian brigandage. Nor +did Martel show any willingness to enlighten him when he tentatively +introduced the subject at breakfast, but laughingly turned the +conversation into another channel. + +"To-day you shall see the star of my life," he declared. "Be prepared +to worship as all men do." + +"Assuredly." + +"And promise you will not fall in love." + +"Is that why you discouraged my coming until a week before your +wedding? Really, if she is all you claim, we might have been such +delightful enemies." + +"Enemies are never that," said the Count, gravely. + +I know men in my country who cherish their enemies like friends. They +seem to enjoy them tremendously, until one or the other has passed on +to glory. Even then they are highly spoken of." + +"I am impatient for you to see her. She, of course, has many +preparations to make, for the wedding-day is almost here; but it is +arranged that we are to dine there to-night with her and her aunt, the +Donna Teresa. Ah, Norvin mine, seven days separate me from Paradise. +You can judge of my ecstasy. The hours creep, the moments are leaden. +Each night when I retire, I feel faithless in allowing sleep to rob my +thoughts of her. When I awake it is with the consolation that more of +those miserable hours have crept away. I am like a man insane." + +"I am beginning to think you really are so." + +"Diamine! Wait! You have not seen her. We are to be married by a +bishop." + +"No doubt that will insure your happiness." + +"A marriage like this does not occur every day. It will be an event, I +tell you." + +"And you're sure I won't be in the way this evening?" + +"No, no! It is arranged. She is waiting--expecting you. She knows you +already. This morning, however, you will amuse yourself--will you +not?--for I must ride down to San Sebastiano and meet the colonel of +carabinieri from Messina." + +"Certainly. Don't mind me." + +Martel hesitated an instant, then explained: + +"It is a matter of business. One of my farm-hands is in prison." + +"Indeed! What for?" + +"Oh, it is nothing. He killed a fellow last week." + +"Jove! What a peaceful, pastoral place you have here! I arrive to be +met by an armed guard, I hear talk of Mafiosi, men ride out at night +with rifles, and old women predict unspeakable evil. What is all the +mystery?" + +"Nonsense! There is no mystery. Do you think I would drag you, my best +friend, into danger?" Savigno's lips were smiling, but he awaited an +answer with some restraint. "That would not be quite the--quite a nice +thing to do, would it?" + +"So, that's it! Now I know you have something on your mind. And it +must be of considerable importance or you would have told me before +this." + +"You are right," the Count suddenly declared, "although I hoped you +would not discover it. I might have known. But I suppose it is better +to make a clean breast of it now. I have enemies, my friend, and I +assure you I do not cherish them." + +"The Countess Margherita is a famous beauty, eh? Well! It is not +remarkable that you should have rivals." + +"No, no. This has nothing to do with her, unless our approaching +marriage has roused them to make a demonstration. Have you ever heard +of--Belisario Cardi?" + +"Not until this morning. Who is he?" + +"I would give much to know. If you had asked me a month ago, I would +have said he is an imaginary character, used to frighten people--a +modern Fra Diavolo, a mere name with which to inspire terror--for +nobody has ever seen him. Now, however, he seems real enough, and I +learn that the carabinieri believe in his existence." Martel pushed +back the breakfast dishes and, leaning his elbows upon the table, +continued, after a pause: "To you Sicily is all beauty and peace and +fragrance; she is old and therefore civilized, so you think. +Everything you have seen so far is reasonably modern, eh?" He showed +his white teeth as Blake assured him: + +"It's the most peaceful, restful spot I ever saw." + +"You see nothing but the surface. Sicily is much what she was in my +grandfather's time. You have inquired about La Mafia. Well, there is +such a thing. It killed my father. It forced me to give up my home and +be an exile." At Norvin's exclamation of astonishment, he nodded." +There's a long story behind it which you could not appreciate without +knowing my father and the character of our Sicilian people, for, after +all, Sicilian character constitutes La Mafia. It is no sect, no cult, +no secret body of assassins, highwaymen, and robbers, as you +foreigners imagine; it is a national hatred of authority, an +individual expression of superiority to the law." + +"In our own New Orleans we are beginning to talk of the Mafia, but +with us it is a mysterious organization of Italian criminals. We treat +it as somewhat of a joke." + +"Be not so sure. Some day it may dominate your American cities as it +does all Sicily." + +"Still I don't understand. You say it is an organization and yet it is +not; it terrorizes a whole island and yet you say it is no more than +your national character. It must have a head, it must have arms." + +"It has no head, or, rather, it has many heads. It is not a band. It +is the Sicilian intolerance of restraint, the individual's sense of +superiority to moral, social, and political law. It is the freemasonry +that results from this common resistance to authority. It is an idea, +not an institution; it is Sicily's curse and that which makes her +impossible of government. I do not mean to deny that we have outlawry +and brigandage; they are merely the most violent demonstrations of La +Mafia. It afflicts the cities; it is a tyranny in the country +districts. La Mafia taxes us with blackmail, it saddles us with a +great force of carabinieri, it gives food and drink and life to men +like Belisario Cardi. Every landholder, every man of property, +contributes to its support. You still do not understand, but you will +as I go along. As an instance of its workings, all fruit-growers +hereabouts are obliged to maintain watchmen, in addition to their +regular employees. Otherwise their groves will be robbed. These guards +are Mafiosi. Let us say that one of us opposes this monopoly. What +happens? He loses his crop in a night; his trees are cut down. Should +he appeal to the law for protection, he is regarded as a weakling, a +man of no spirit. This is but one small example of the workings of La +Mafia; as a matter of fact, it permeates the political, the business, +and the social life of the whole island. Knowing the impotence of the +law to protect any one, peaceable citizens shield the criminals. They +perjure themselves to acquit a Mafioso rather than testify against him +and thus incur the certainty of some fearful vengeance. Should the +farmer persist in his independence, something ends his life, as in my +father's case. The whole country is terrorized by a conspiracy of a +few bold and masterful men. It is unbearable. There are, of course, +Capi-Mafia--leaders--whose commands are enforced, but there is no +single well-organized society. It is a great interlocking system built +upon patronage, friendship, and the peculiar Sicilian character." + +"Now I think I begin to understand." + +"My father was not strong enough to throw off the yoke and it meant +his death. I was too young to take his place, but now that I am a man +I intend to play a man's part, and I have served notice. It means a +battle, but I shall win." + +To Martel's hasty and very incomplete sketch of the hidden influences +of Sicilian life Blake listened with the greatest interest, noting the +grave determination that had settled upon his friend; yet he could +scarcely bring himself to accept an explanation that seemed so +far-fetched. The whole theory of the Mafia struck him as grotesque and +theatrical. + +"And one man has already been killed, you say?" he asked. + +"Yes, I discharged all the watchmen whom I knew to be Mafiosi. It +caused a commotion, I can tell you, and no little uneasiness among the +country people, who love me even if, to them, I have been a more or +less imaginary person since my father's death. Naturally they warned +me to desist in this mad policy of independence. A week ago one of my +campieri, Paolo--he who is now in prison--surprised a fellow hacking +down my orange-trees and shot him. The miscreant proved to be a +certain Galli, whom I had discharged. He left a family, I regret to +say, but his reputation was bad. Notwithstanding all this, Paolo is +still in prison despite my utmost efforts. The machinery of the Mafia +is in motion, they will perjure witnesses, they will spend money in +any quantity to convict my poor Paolo. Heaven knows what the result +will be." + +"And where does this bogey-man enter--this Belisario Cardi?" + +"I have had a letter from him." + +"Really?" + +"It is in the hands of the carabinieri, hence this journey of my +friend, Colonel Neri, from Messina." + +"What did the letter say?" + +"It demanded a great sum of money, with my life as the penalty for +refusal. It was signed by Cardi; there was no mistaking the name. If +it had been from Narcone, for instance, I would have paid no attention +to it, for he is no more than a cattle-thief. But Belisario Cardi! My +boy, you don't appreciate the significance of that name. I should not +care to fall into his hands, I assure you, and have my feet roasted +over a slow fire--" + +"Good heavens!" Norvin cried, rising abruptly from his chair. "You +don't really mean he's that sort?" + +"As a matter of fact," the Count reassured his guest, "I don't believe +in his existence at all. It is merely a name to be used upon occasion. +But as for the punishment, that is perhaps the least I might +expect if I were so unfortunate as to be captured." + +"Why, this can't be! Do you realize that this is the year 1886? Such +things are not possible any longer. In your father's time--yes." + +"All things are possible in Sicily," smiled Savigno. "We are a century +behind the times. But, caro mio, I did wrong to tell you--" + +"No, no." + +"I shall come to no harm, believe me. I am known to be young, rich, +and my marriage is but a few days off. What more natural, therefore, +than for some Mafioso to try to frighten me and profit by the dreaded +name of Cardi? I am a stranger here in my own birthplace. When I +become better known, there will be no more feeble attempts at +blackmail. Other landholders have maintained their independence, and I +shall do the same, for an enemy who fears to fight openly is a coward, +and I am in the right." + +"I am glad I came. I shall be glad, too, when you are married and +safely off on your wedding journey." + +"I feared to tell you all this lest you should think I had no right to +bring you here at such a time--" + +"Don't be an utter idiot, Martel." + +"You are an American; you have your own way of looking at things. Of +course, if anything should happen--if ill-fortune should overtake me +before the marriage--" + +"See here! If there is the slightest danger, the faintest possibility, +you ought to go away, as you did before," Norvin declared, positively. + +"I am no longer a child. I am to be married a week hence. Wild horses +could not drag me away." + +"You could postpone it--explain it to the Countess--" + +"There is no necessity; there is no cause for alarm, even. All the +same, I feel much easier with you here. Margherita has relatives, to +be sure, but they are--well, I have no confidence in them. In the +remote possibility that the worst should come, you could look out for +her, and I am sure you would. Am I right?" + +"Of course you are." + +"And now let us think of something pleasanter. We won't talk of it any +more, eh?" + +"I'm perfectly willing to let it drop. You know I would do anything +for you or yours, so we needn't discuss that point any further." + +"Good!" Martel rose and with his customary display of affection flung +an arm about his friend's shoulders. "And now Ricardo is waiting to go +to San Sebastiano, so you must amuse yourself for an hour or two. I +have had the billiard-table recovered, and the cushions are fairly +good. You will find books in the library, perhaps a portfolio of my +earlier drawings--" + +"Billiards!" exclaimed the American, fervently, whereupon the Count +laughed. + +"Till I return, then, a riverderci!" He seized his hat and strode out +of the room. + + + + +III + +THE GOLDEN GIRL + + + +Shortly after the heat of the day had begun to subside the two friends +set out for Terranova. Ricardo accompanied them--it seemed he went +everywhere with Martel--following at a distance which allowed the +young men freedom to talk, his watchful eyes scanning the roadside as +if even in the light of day he feared some lurking danger. + +The prospect of seeing his fiancee acted like wine upon Savigno, and +from his exuberant spirits it was evident that he had completely +forgotten his serious talk at the breakfast table. His disposition was +mercurial, and if he had ever known real forebodings they were +forgotten now. + +It was a splendid ride along a road which wound in serpentine twinings +high above the sea, now breasting ridges bare of all save rock and +spurge, and now dipping into valleys shaded by flowering trees and +cloyed with the scent of blooms. It meandered past farms, in haphazard +fashion, past vineyards and gardens and groves of mandarin, lime, and +lemon, finally toiling up over a bold chestnut-studded shoulder of the +range, where Blake drew in to enjoy the scene. A faint haze, +impalpable as the memory of dreams, lay over the land, the sea was +azure, the mountains faintly purple. A gleam of white far below showed +Terranova, and when the American had voiced his appreciation the three +horsemen plunged downward, leaving a rolling cloud of yellow dust +behind them. + +The road from here on led through a wild and somewhat forbidding +country, broken by ravines and watercourses and quite densely wooded +with thickets which swept upward into the interior as far as the eye +could reach; but in the neighborhood of Terranova the land blossomed +and flowered again as on the other side of the mountains. + +Leaving the main road by a driveway, the three horsemen swung through +spacious grounds and into a courtyard behind the house, where an old +man came shuffling slowly forward, his wrinkled face puckered into a +smile of welcome. + +"Ha! Aliandro!" cried the Count. "What do I see? The rheumatism is +gone at last, grazie Dio!" + +Aliandro's loose lips parted over his toothless gums and he mumbled: + +"Illustrissimo, the accursed affliction is worse." + +"Impossible! Then why these capers? My dear Aliandro, you are +shamming. Why, you came leaping like a goat." + +"As God is my judge, carino, I can sleep only in the sun. It is like +the tortures of the devil, and my bones creak like a gate." + +"And yet each day I declare to myself: 'Aliandro, that rascal, is +growing younger as the hours go by. It is well we are not rivals in +love or I should be forced to hate him!'" The old man chuckled and +beamed upon Savigno, who proceeded to make Norvin known. + +Aliandro's face had once been long and pointed, but with the loss of +teeth and the other mysterious shrinkages of time it had shortened +until in repose the chin and the nose seemed to meet like the points +of calipers. When he moved his jaws his whole countenance lengthened +magically, as if made of some substance more elastic than flesh. It +stretched and shortened rapidly now, in the most extraordinary +fashion, for the Count had a knack of pleasing people. + +"And where are the ladies?" Savigno inquired. + +Aliandro cocked a watery eye at the heavens and replied: + +"They will be upon the loggiato at this hour, Illustrissimo. The Donna +Teresa will have a book." He squinted respectfully at a small note +which Martel handed him, then inquired, "Do you wish change?" + +"Not at all. It is yours for your courtesy." + +"Grazie! Grazie! A million thanks." The old fellow made off with +surprising agility. + +"What a sham he is!" the Count laughed, as he and Norvin walked on +around the house. "He will do no labor, and yet the Contessa supports +him in idleness. There is a Mafioso for you! He has been a brigand, a +robber. He is, to this day, as you see. Margherita has an army of such +people who impose upon her. Every time I am here I tip him. Every time +he receives it with the same words." + +Although the country-seat of the Ginini was known as a castello, it +was more in the nature of a comfortable and pretentious villa. It had +dignity, however, and drowsed upon a commanding eminence fronted by a +splendid terraced lawn which one beheld through clumps of flowering +shrubs and well-tended trees. Here and there among the foliage gleamed +statuary, and the musical purl of a fountain fell upon the ear. + +As the young men mounted to the loggiato, or covered gallery, a +delicate, white-haired Italian lady arose and came to meet them. + +"Ah, Martel, my dear boy! We have been expecting you," she cried. + +It was the Donna Teresa Fazello, and she turned a sweet face upon +Mattel's friend, bidding him welcome to Terranova with charming +courtesy. She was still exchanging with him the pleasantries customary +upon first meetings when he heard the Count exclaim softly, and, +looking up, saw him bowing low over a girl's hands. Her back was half +turned toward Norvin, but although he had not seen her features +clearly, he felt a great surprise. His preconceived notion of her had +been all wrong; It seemed, for she was not dark--on the contrary, she +was as tawny as a lioness. Her hair, of which there was an abundance, +was not the ordinary Saxon yellow, but iridescent, as if burned by the +fierce heat of a tropical sun. The neck and cheeks were likewise +golden, or was it the light from her splendid crown? + +He was still staring at her when she turned and came forward to give +him her hand, thus allowing her full glory to flash upon him. + +"Welcome!" she said, in a voice as low-pitched as a cello string, and +her lover, watching eagerly for some sign from his friend, smiled +delightedly at the emotion he saw leap up in Norvin's face. That young +man was quite unconscious of Martel's espionage--unconscious of +everything, in fact, save the splendid creature who stood smiling at +him as if she had known him all her days. His first impression, that +she was all golden, all gleaming, like a flame, did not leave him; for +the same warm tints that were in her hair were likewise present in her +cheeks, her neck, her hands. It was like the hue which underlies old +ivory. Her skin was clear and of unusual pallor, yet it seemed to +radiate warmth. Something rich and vivid in her voice also lent +strength to the odd impression she had given him, as if her very +speech were gold made liquid. Except for the faintest tinge of olive, +her cheeks were colorless, yet they spoke of perfect health, and shone +with that same pale, effulgent glow, like the reflection of a late +sun. Her lips were richly red and as fresh as a half-opened flower, +affording the only contrast to that puzzling radiance. Her unusual +effect was due as much perhaps to the color of her eyes as to her hair +and skin, for while they were really of a greenish hazel they held the +fires of an opal in their depths. They were Oriental, slumbrous, +meditative, and the black pupils were of an exaggerated size. Her +brows were dark and met above a finely chiseled nose. + +All in all, Blake was quite taken aback, for he had not been prepared +for such a vision, and a sort of panic robbed him of speech. But when +his halting tongue had done its duty and his eyes had turned once more +to the aunt, some irresistible power swept them back to the young +woman's face. The more he observed her the more he was puzzled by that +peculiar effect, that glow which seemed to envelop her. Even her gown, +of some shimmering material, lent its part to the illusion. Yellow was +undeniably her color; she seemed steeped in it. + +He had to make a determined effort to recover his composure. + +Savigno fell quickly into a lover's rhapsody, devouring the girl with +ardent glances under which she thrilled, and soon they began to +chatter of the wedding preparations. + +"It was very good of you to come so long a way," said the Countess at +last, turning to the American for a second time. "Martel has told us +all about you and about your adventures together." + +"Not all!" cried Savigno, lightly. "We have pasts, I assure you." + +"Martel tries so hard to impress us with his wickedness," the aunt +explained. "But we know him to be jesting. Perhaps you will confound +him here before us." + +"I shall do nothing of the sort," Blake laughed. "Who am I to rob him +of a delightfully wicked past upon which he can pretend to look back +in horror? It is the only past he will ever have, so why spoil it for +him? On the contrary, I am prepared to lend a hand and to start him +off with a list of damning disclosures which it will require years to +live down." + +"Pray begin," urged the Count with an air of intense satisfaction. +"Eh? He hesitates. Then I shall begin for him. In the first place, +Margherita, he openly declares that I covet your riches." + +The Countess joined in the laughter at this, and Norvin could only +say: + +"I had not met you then, Signorina." + +"He was quite serious, nevertheless, and predicted that marriage would +end our friendship, arguing that supreme happiness is but another term +for supreme selfishness." + +"At least I did not question the certainty of your happiness." + +The girl spoke up gravely: + +"I don't agree with you, Signor Blake. I should hate to think it will +make us selfish. It seems to me that such--love as we share will make +us very good and sweet and generous." + +When she spoke of love she hesitated and lowered her eyes until the +quivering lashes swept her cheeks, but no flush of embarrassment +followed. Norvin realized that with all her reserve she could not +blush, had probably never blushed. + +"You shouldn't place the least dependence on the words of a man's best +friend under such conditions," he told her, "for he covers his chagrin +at losing a comrade by a display of pessimism which he doesn't really +feel." + +Norvin suddenly wished the Countess would not allow her glance to +linger upon him so long and searchingly. It filled him with a most +disturbing self-consciousness. He was relieved when the Donna Teresa +engaged him in conversation and the lovers were occupied with each +other. It was some time later that the Countess addressed her aunt +excitedly: + +"Listen! What do you think of this, zia mia? The authorities will not +admit poor Paolo to bail, and he is still in prison." + +"Poor fellow!" cried the Donna Teresa. "It is La Mafia." + +"Perhaps it is better for him to remain where he is," Martel said. "He +is at least safe, for the time being. Here is something you may not +know: Galli's wife is sister to Gian Narcone." + +"The outlaw?" + +"Then she will probably kill Paolo," said the Countess Margherita, +calmly. + +Blake exclaimed wonderingly: "I say--this is worse than Breathitt +County, Kentucky. You talk of murders and outlaws as we discuss the +cotton crop or the boll-weevil. This is the most fatal country I ever +saw." + +"It is a great pity that such things exist," the Donna Teresa agreed, +"but one grows accustomed to them in time. It has been so ever since I +was a child--we do not seem to progress, here in Sicily. Now in Italy +it is much more civilized, much more restful." + +"How hard it must be to do right," said the Countess, musingly. "Look +at Paolo, for instance; he kills a wretched thief quite innocently, +and yet the law holds him in prison. It is necessary, of course, to be +severe with robbers like this Galli and his brother-in-law, who is an +open outlaw, and yet, I suppose if I were that Galli's wife I should +demand blood to wash my blood. She is only a wife." + +"You sympathize with her?" exclaimed Martel in astonishment. + +"Deeply! I am not so sorry the man was killed, but a wife has rights. +She will doubtless follow him." + +"Do you believe in the vendetta?" Norvin asked, curiously. + +"Who does not? The law is full of tricks. There is a saying which +runs, 'The gallows for the poor, justice for the fool!'" + +"You are a Mafiosa," cried the scandalized aunt. + +"It is one of Aliandro's sayings. He has lived a life! He often tells +me stories." + +"Aliandro is a terrible liar," Martel declared. "I fear his adventures +are much like his rheumatism." + +"You do not exact a reckoning from your enemies in America?" queried +Margherita. + +"Oh, we do, but not with quite so much enthusiasm as you do," Blake +answered her. "We aren't ordinarily obliged to kill people in order to +protect our property, and wives don't go about threatening vengeance +when their husbands meet with accidents. The police take care of such +things." + +"A fine country! It must be so peaceful for old people," ejaculated +the aunt. + +"We have some outlaws, to be sure, like your notorious Belisario +Cardi--" + +"Cardi is but a name," said the girl. "He does not exist." + +Intercepting a warning glance from Martel, Blake said no more, and the +talk drifted to more agreeable subjects. + +But the Count, being possessed of a nervous temperament which called +for constant motion, could not long remain inactive, and now, having +poured his extravagant devotion into his sweetheart's ears, he rose, +saying: + +"I must go to the village. The baker, the confectioner, the butcher, +all have many things to prepare for the festa, and I must order the +fireworks from Messina. Norvin will remain here while Ricardo and I +complete the arrangements. I tell you it will be a celebration to +awaken the countryside. For an hour then, addio!" He touched his lips +to Margherita's fingers and, bowing to her aunt, ran down the steps. + +"Some gadfly stings him," said the Donna Teresa, fondly. "He is like a +child; he cannot remain seated. He comes, he goes, like the wind. +There is no holding him." + +"So there's to be a festa?" Blake observed with interest. + +"Oh, indeed! It will be a great event. It was Mattel's idea." +Margherita arose and the young man followed. "See, out there upon the +terrace there will be dancing. You have never seen a Sicilian +merrymaking? You have never seen the tarantella! Then you will be +interested. On the night before the ceremony the people will come from +the whole countryside. There will be music, games, fireworks. Oh, it +will be a celebrazione. My cousins from Messina will be here, the +bishop, many fine people. I--I am more excited than Martel. I can +scarcely wait." The girl's face mirrored her emotion and her eyes were +as deep as the sea. She seemed for the moment very far away, uplifted +in contemplation of the great change so soon to occur in her life, and +Norvin began to suspect her of a tremendous depth of feeling. Unknown +even to herself she was smouldering; unawakened fires were stirred by +the consciousness of coming wifehood. Out here in the sun she was more +tawny than ever, and, recalling the threat against her lover, the +young man fell to wondering how she would take misfortune if it ever +came. Feeling his eyes upon her, she met his gaze frankly with a +smile. + +"What is it? You have something to say." + +He recovered himself with an effort. + +"No! Only--you are so different from what I expected." + +"And you also," she laughed. "You are much more agreeable; I like you +immensely, and I want you to tell me all about yourself." + +That was a wonderful afternoon for Blake. The Sicilian girl took him +into her confidence without the slightest restraint. There was no +period of getting acquainted; it was as if they had known each other +for a lifetime. He never ceased marveling at her beauty and his ears +grew ever more eager for her voice. Martel made no secret of his +delight at their instantaneous liking for each other, and the dinner +that evening was the gayest that had brightened Terranova for years. + +Inasmuch as the ride to San Sebastiano was long, the young men were +forced to leave early, but they were scarcely out of hearing before +Martel drew his horse in beside Norvin and, laying a hand upon his +friend's arm, inquired, breathlessly: + +"Well? Come, come, brother of mine! You know I perish of eagerness. +What have you to say? The truth, between man and man." + +Blake answered him with an odd hesitation: + +"You must know without asking. There's nothing to say--except that +she--she is like a golden flame. She sets one afire. She is different-- +wonderful. I--I--" + +"Exactly!" Savigno laughed with keenest contentment. "There is no +other." + +When Blake retired that night it was not to sleep at once, for he was +troubled by a growing fear of himself that would not be lightly put +aside. + + + + +IV + +THE FEAST AT TERRANOVA + + + +During the next few days Norvin Blake saw much of the Countess +Margherita, for every afternoon he and Martel rode to Terranova. The +preparations for the wedding neared completion and the consciousness +of a coming celebration had penetrated the countryside. Among all who +looked forward to the big event, perhaps the one who watched the hours +fly with the greatest degree of suspense was the American. He had half +faced the truth on that night after his first meeting with the girl, +and the succeeding days enforced the conviction he would have been +glad to escape. He could no longer doubt that he was in love, madly +infatuated with his best friend's fiancee, and the knowledge came like +some crushing misfortune. It could scarcely be called a love at first +sight, for he felt that he had always known and always loved this +girl. He had never believed in these sudden obsessions, and more than +once had been amused at Martel's ability to fall violently in love at +a moment's notice, and to fall as quickly out again, but in spite of +his coolest reasoning and sternest self-reproach he found the spell +too strong for him. Every decent instinct commanded him to uproot this +passion; every impetuous impulse burst into sudden flame and consumed +his better sense, his judgment, and his loyalty, leaving him shaken +and doubtful. Although this was his first serious soul conflict, he +possessed more than average self-control, and he managed to conceal +his feelings so well that Martel, who was the embodiment of loyalty +and generosity, never for a moment suspected the truth. As for the +girl, she was too full of her own happiness to see anything amiss. She +took her lover's comrade into her heart with that odd unrestraint +which characterized her, and, recognizing the bond which united the +two young men, she strove to widen it sufficiently to include herself. +It spoke well for her that she felt no jealousy of that love which a +man bears for his life's best friend, but rather strove to encourage +it. Her intense desire to be a part of her lover and share all his +affections led her to strive earnestly for a third place in the union, +with the result that Blake saw even more of her than did Savigno. She +deliberately set herself the task of winning the American, a task +already more than accomplished, had she but known it, and, although +for some women such a course would have been neither easy nor safe, +with her a misconception of motive was impossible. + +She had an ardent, almost reckless manner of attacking problems; she +was as intense and yet as changeful as a flame. Blake watched her +varying moods with the same fascination with which one regards a +wind-blown blaze, recognizing, even in her moments of repression, that +she was ready to burst forth anew at the slightest breath. She was the +sort of woman to dominate men, to inspire them with tremendous +enthusiasm for good or for evil as they chanced to lean toward the one +or the other. While she seemed wholly admirable, she exercised a +damnable effect upon Norvin. He was tortured by a thousand devils, he +was possessed by dreams and fancies hitherto strange and unrecognized. +The nervous strain began to tell in time; he slept little, he grew +weary of the struggle, things became unreal and distorted. He longed +to end it all by fleeing from Sicily, and had there been more time he +would have arranged for a summons to America. His mother had not been +well for a long time, and he was tempted to use this fact as an excuse +for immediate departure, but the thought that Martel needed him acted +as an effective restraint. The vague menace of La Mafia still hung +over the Count and was not lessened by the receipt of a second +threatening letter a few days after Blake's arrival. + +Cardi wrote again, demanding instant compliance with the terms +contained in his first communication. Savigno was directed to send +Ricardo Ferara at a given hour to a certain crossroads above San +Sebastiano with ten thousand lire. In that case candles would be +burned and masses said for the soul of the murdered Galli, so the +writer promised. The letter put no penalty upon a failure to comply +with these demands, beyond a vague prediction of evil. It was short +and business-like and very much to the point. + +As this was the first document of the kind Norvin had ever seen, he +was greatly interested in it. + +"Don't you think it may be the work of this fellow Narcone?" he +inquired. "I understand he is the brother-in-law of Galli." + +"Narcone would scarcely undertake so bold a piece of blackmail," the +Count declared. "I knew him slightly before he gave himself to the +campagna. He was a butcher; he was brutal and domineering, but he was +a coward." + +"It is not from Narcone," Ricardo pronounced, positively--they had +called in the overseer for the discussion--"he is grossolano. He can +neither read nor write. This letter is well spelled and well written." + +"Then you think it is really from Cardi?" + +Ricardo shrugged his square shoulders. "Who knows? Some say there is +no such person, others declare he went to America years ago." + +"What is your belief?" + +"I know a man who has seen him." + +"Who?" + +"Aliandro." + +"Bah! Aliandro is such a liar!" exclaimed Savigno. + +"However that may be, he has seen things in his time. He says that +Cardi is not what people suppose him to be--a brigand--except when it +suits his desires. That is why he comes and goes and the carabinieri +can never trace him. That is why he is at home in all parts of Sicily; +that is why he uses men like Narcone when he chooses." + +"It would please me to capture the wretch," said Martel. + +"Let's try it," Norvin suggested, and accordingly a trap was laid. + +Four carabinieri were sent to the appointed place, ahead of time, with +directions to conceal themselves, and Ferara carried out his part of +the programme. But no one came to meet him, he encountered no one +coming or going to the crossroads, and returned greatly disgusted. +However, at his suggestion Colonel Neri stationed the four soldier +policemen at the castello to prevent any demonstration and to profit +by any development which might occur. + +The young men did not permit this diversion to interrupt their daily +trips to Terranova, although as a matter of precaution they added +Ippolito to their party. He was delighted at the change of duty, +because, as Norvin discovered, it brought him to the side of Lucrezia +Ferara. Thus it happened that Martel had reason to regret the choice +of his bodyguard, for on the very first visit Ippolito began to strut +and swagger before the girl and allowed the secret to escape him, +whereupon it was carried to the Countess. + +She appealed to Martel to leave San Sebastiano for the time being, to +postpone the wedding, or at least to go to Messina for it; but of +course he refused and tried to laugh down her misgivings, and of +course she appealed privately to Blake for assistance. + +"You must use your influence to change his mind," she said, earnestly. +"He declares he will not be overawed by these ruffians. He says that +to pay them the least attention would be to encourage them to another +attempt when we return, but--he does not know the Mafia as I know it. +You will do this for me?" + +"Of course, if you wish it, although I agree with Martel, and I'm sure +he won't listen to me. He can't play the coward. The wedding is only +two days off now. Why, to-morrow is the gala-day! How could he notify +the whole district, when all his preparations have been completed? +What excuse could he give without confessing his fear and making +himself liable to a later and stronger attack?" + +"The country people need not know anything about it. Let them come and +make merry. He can leave now, tonight. We will join him at Messina." + +Norvin shook his head. "I'll do what I can, since you wish it, but I'm +sure he won't consent to any change of plan. I'm sure, also, that you +are needlessly troubled." + +"Perhaps," she acknowledged, doubtfully. "And yet Martel's father--" + +"Yes, yes. But conditions are not what they were fifteen years ago. +This is merely a blackmailing scheme, and if he ignores it he'll +probably never hear of it again. On the other hand, if he allows it to +drive him away it will be repeated upon his return." + +She searched his face with her eyes, and his wits reeled at her +earnest gaze. He was conscious of a single wild desire that such +anxiety might be for him. How gladly he would yield to her wishes--how +gladly he would yield to any wish of hers! He was a foreigner; he +hated this island and its people, for the most part, and yet if he +stood in Martel's place he would willingly change his life to +correspond with hers. He would become Sicilian in body and soul. She +had the power to dissolve his habits, his likes and dislikes, and +reconstruct him through and through. + +"I hope you are right," she said at last. "And yet--it is said that no +one escapes the Mafia." + +"This isn't the Mafia. It is the work of some brigand--" + +"What is the difference? The one merges into the other. Blood has been +spilled; the forces are at work." + +Suddenly she seized him by the arm, and her eyes blazed. "Look you," +she cried, "if Martel should be injured, if these men should dare--all +Sicily would not hold them. No power could save them, no hiding-place +could be so secret, no lies so cunning, that I would not know. You +understand?" + +Blake saw that the girl was at last aroused to that intensity of +feeling which he had recognized as latent in her. Love had caused her +to glow, but it had required this breath of fear to fan the fire into +full strength. He was deeply moved and answered simply: "I understand. +I--never knew how much you loved him." + +Her humor changed, and she smiled. + +"One is foolish, perhaps, to be so frank, but that is my nature. You +would not have me change it?" + +"You couldn't if you tried." + +"Martel has always known I loved him. I could never conceal it. I +never wished to. If he had not seen it I would have told him. Just +now, when I heard he was threatened--well, you see." + +"Ippolito had no business to mention the matter. I suppose his tongue +ran away with him. Tongues have a way of doing such things when their +owners are in love." + +"He is not for Lucrezia." + +"Why? He's a fine fellow." + +"Oh, but Lucrezia is superior. I have taught her a great many things. +She is more like a sister to me than a servant, and I could not see +her married to a farm-hand. She can do much better than to marry +Ippolito." + +"Love goes where it pleases," said the American with so much feeling +that Margherita's eyes leaped to his. + +"You know? Ah, my good friend, then you have loved?" + +He nodded. "I have. I do." + +She was instantly all eagerness, and beamed upon him with a frank +delight that stabbed him. + +"Martel? Does he know?" + +"No, You see, there's no use--no possibility." + +"I'm sorry. There must be some great mistake. I cannot conceive of so +sad a thing." + +"Please don't try," he exclaimed, panic-stricken at thought of the +dangerous ground he was treading and miserably afraid she would guess +the truth in spite of him. + +"I should think any woman might love you," she said, critically, after +a moment's meditation. "You are good and brave and true." + +"Most discerning of women!" he cried, with an elaborate bow. "Those +are but a few of my admirable traits." He was relieved to see that she +had no suspicion of his feelings, for she was extremely quick of wit +and her intuition was keen. No doubt, her failure to read him was due +to her absorption in her own affairs. He had arrived at a better +knowledge of her capabilities to-day and began to realize that she was +as changeable as a chameleon. One moment she could be like the sirocco +in warmth and languor, the next as sparkling as the sunlit ocean. +Again she could be steeped in a dreamy abstraction or alive with a +pagan joy of life. She might have been sixteen or thirty, as her mood +chanced to affect her. Of all the crossed strains that go to make up +the Sicilian race she had inherited more of the Oriental than the +Greek or Roman. Somewhere back in the Ginini family there was Saracen +blood, he felt sure. + +Blake was as good as his word, and made her wishes known to Martel, +who laughingly accused him of a lack of faith in his own arguments. +The Count was bubbling with spirits at the immediate nearness of his +nuptials, and declined to consider anything which might interfere with +them. He joyfully told Blake that the tickets were already bought and +all arrangements made to leave for Messina immediately after the +ceremony, which would take place in the church at Terranova. They +would catch the boat for Naples on the evening after the wedding, he +explained, and Blake was to accompany them at least that far on his +way to America. Meanwhile, he had no intention of foregoing the +pleasure of to-morrow's celebration, even if Belisario Cardi himself +should appear, to dispute his coming. It was the first, the last, and +the only time he intended marrying, and he had promised himself to +enjoy the occasion to the utmost, despite those letters, which, after +all, were not to be taken seriously. So the matter was allowed to +stand. + +The country people had begun to assemble when Martel and his friend +arrived at the Ginini manor on the following afternoon, and the +grounds were filling with gaily dressed peasants. The train from +Messina had brought Margherita's relatives, and the bishop had sent +word that he would arrive in ample time for the ceremony on the next +morning. The contadini were coming in afoot, astride of donkeys and +mules, or in gaily painted carts pictured with the miracles of the +saints and the conquests of the Moors. There were dark-haired men and +women, wild-haired boys with roses above their ears, girls with huge +ear-rings and fringed shawls which swept the ground as they walked. As +yet they had not entirely lost their restraint, but Martel went among +them with friendly hand-clasps and exuberant greetings, renewing old +acquaintances and welcoming new until at last their shyness +disappeared and they began to laugh and chatter unaffectedly. + +Savigno had traveled, he told them. He had arranged many surprises for +his friends. There would be games, dances, music, and a wonderful +entertainment in the big striped tent yonder, supplied by a troupe of +players which he had brought all the way from Palermo. As for the +feast, well, the tables were already stretched under the trees, as +they could see, and if any one wished to tantalize his nostrils just +let him wander past the kitchen in the rear, where a dozen women had +been at work since dawn. But that was not all; there would be gifts +for the children and prizes for the best dancers. The handsomest woman +would receive a magnificent shawl the like of which had never been +dreamed of in Terranova, and then to prevent jealousy the others would +receive presents also. But he would not say too much. Let them wait +and see. Finally there would be fireworks, enough to satisfy every +one; and all he asked of them was that they drink the health of the +Countess Margherita and wish her lifelong happiness. It was to be a +memorable occasion, he hoped, and if they did not enjoy themselves as +never before, then he and his bride would feel that their wedding had +been a great, a colossal failure. + +But it seemed, as night approached, that Martel had no reason to doubt +the quality of his entertainment, for the guests gave themselves up to +joy as only southerners can, forgetting poverty, hardship, and all the +grinding cares of their barren lives. They yielded quickly to the +passion of the festa, and Blake began to see Sicily for the first +time. He would have liked to enter into their merrymaking, but felt +himself too much a stranger. + +The feast was elaborate; no ristorante could have equaled it, no one +but a spendthrift lover like Martel would have furnished it. But it +was not until darkness came and the trees began to twinkle and glow +with their myriad lights that the fun reached its highest pitch. Then +there was true Sicilian dancing, true Sicilian joking, love-making. +Eyes were bright, cheeks were flushed, lips were parted, and the halls +of Terranova echoed to a bacchanalian tumult. + +There had been an elaborate supper inside also, to which the more +prominent townspeople had been invited and from which Norvin Blake was +only too eager to escape as it drew to an end. The strain to which he +had been subjected for the past week was growing unbearable, and the +sight of Margherita Ginini clad like a vision in some elaborate +Parisian gown so intensified his distress that he was glad to slip +away into the open air at the first opportunity. He found Ricardo +leaning against the bole of a eucalyptus-tree, observing the throng +with watchful eyes. + +"Why aren't you making merry?" Blake inquired. + +The overseer shrugged his shoulders, replying, somberly, "I am +waiting." + +"For what?" + +"Who knows? There are strangers here." "You mean,"--Blake's manner +changed quickly--"there may be enemies?" + +"If Cardi is in the mountains behind Martinello, may he not be here at +Terranova? I am looking for a thick, black man. Aliandro has described +him." + +"Cardi would scarcely come to a wedding feast," said Blake, with a +certain feeling of uneasiness. + +"Scarcely," the overseer agreed. + +"Have you seen anything?" + +"Nothing." + +"Where is Ippolito?" + +Ricardo grunted. "Asleep in the stable. The imbecile is drunk." + +To the American these Sicilian people looked very much alike. They +were all a bit fantastic, and the scene reminded him of a fancy-dress +ball where all the men represented brigands. Many of them were, or +seemed to be, of truculent countenance; some wore piratical ear-rings, +others had shawls wrapped about their heads as if for concealment. Any +one of them might have been a brigand, for all he knew, and he saw how +easy it would be for a handful of evil-intentioned persons to mingle +unobserved with such a throng. Yet his better sense told him that he +was silly to imagine such things. He had allowed old women's tales to +upset his nerves. + +A half-hour later, as he was watching the crowd from the loggiato, +Margherita appeared, and he thought for a moment that she too might +feel some vague foreboding, but her first words reassured him. + +"My good friend, I missed you," she said, "but I had no chance of +leaving until this moment." Coming close to him, she inquired: "Has +something gone amiss? You have seemed sad all this evening. I do not +know, but I fear your heart is--heavy." + +He answered, unsteadily: "Perhaps it is. I--don't know." + +"It is that certain woman." + +"I dare say. I'm a great fool, you know." + +"Don't say that. This is perhaps the only chance I shall have of +seeing you alone." + +"I'm glad," he broke out in a tone that startled her. "Glad for you. I +have tried not to be a death's-head at your feast, but it has been a +struggle." + +"We women see things. Martel, boy that he is, does not suspect, and +yet I, who have known you so short a time, have read your secret. It +is our happiness which makes you sad." + +"No, no. I'm not that sort. I share your happiness. I want it to +continue." + +"If I had one wish it would be that she might care for you as I care +for Martel. And who knows? Perhaps she may. You say it is impossible, +yet life is full of blind ways and unseen turnings. Somehow I feel +that she will." + +"You are very good," he managed to say. Then yielding to a sudden +impulse, he took her hand and kissed it. A moment later she left him, +but the touch of her cool flesh against his lips remained an +unforgetable impression. + +Savigno appeared, yawning prodigiously. + +"Dio!" he exclaimed with a grimace. "Those cousins of hers are deadly +dull; I do not blame you for escaping. And the judge, and the notary's +wife, and that village doctor! Colonel Neri is a good chap, +notwithstanding his mustache in which he takes so much pride. He +nurses it like a child, and yet it is older than I. Poor friend of +mine, you are a martyr, thus to endure for me." + +"It's tremendously interesting, particularly this part out here," +Norvin asserted. "I saw them dancing what I took to be the tarantella +a moment ago. Those peasant boys are like leaping fauns." + +"Yes, and they will continue to dance for hours yet. I fear the Donna +Teresa will not retire at her usual hour. What a day it has been! It +is fine to give people happiness. That is one of my new discoveries." + +"Remember to-morrow." + +"Believe me, I think of nothing else. That is why we must be going +soon. We cannot wait even for the fireworks, as much as I would like +to. It is a long road to Martinello and we must be up early in the +morning. You do not object?" + +"On the contrary, I was about to bear you off in spite of yourself." + +"Then I will have Ippolito fetch the horses." + +"Ippolito has been demonstrating the mastery of wine over matter. He +is asleep in the manger." + +"Drunk? Oh, the idiot! He has the appetite of a shark, but the belly +of a herring. I ought to warm his soles with a cane," declared +Savigno, angrily. + +"Don't be too hard on him. I suspect Lucrezia would not listen to his +suit, poor chap. He's sick from unrequited passion." + +"Very well, we will leave him to sleep it off. I couldn't be harsh +with him at this time. And now we had best begin presenting our +good-nights, although I hate to go." + + + + +V + +WHAT WAITED AT THE ROADSIDE + + + +To avoid the dampening effect of an early departure the three men rode +out quietly from the courtyard at the rear of the house, leaving the +merrymakers to their fun. + +"So, this is our last ride together," Norvin said, as they left the +valley and began the long ascent of the mountain that lay between them +and Martinello. + +"Yes. Henceforth we spare our horses. You see tomorrow we will take +the morning train. Half of San Sebastiano will accompany us, too, and +everybody will be dressed in his finest. Ricardo here, for instance, +will wear his new brown suit--a glorious affair. Eh, Ricardo?" + +"It would be as well to refrain from speaking," said the overseer, +gruffly. "The road is dark. Who knows what may be waiting?" + +"Nonsense! Be not always a bear. We are three armed men. I fancy +Narcone, nay, even our dreadful Cardi himself, would scarcely dare +molest us." + +Ferara merely grunted and continued to hold his place abreast of his +employer. Norvin observed that he carried his rifle across his saddle-bow, +and involuntarily shifted the strap of his own weapon so that it +might be ready in case of an emergency. He had rebelled, somewhat, at +carrying a firearm, but Martel, after making a clean breast of his +troubles that first morning, had insisted, and the American had +yielded even though he felt ridiculous. + +The sky was moonless to-night but crowded with stars which gave light +enough so that the riders were able to follow the road without +difficulty, although the shadows on either side were dense. The air +was sweet, and so still that the sounds of revelry from Terranova were +plainly audible. Strains of music floated up the hillside, the shouts +of the master of ceremonies came distinctly as he issued his commands +for a country dance. The many lights within the grounds shone cloudily +among the tree-tops far below, like the effulgence from some well-lit +city hidden behind a hill, now disappearing for a time, now shining +out again as the road pursued its meanderings. The hurried footfalls +of the horses thudded steadily in the soft dust; the saddles creaked +with that music which lulls a horseman like a song. + +"Youth! Youth! What a glorious thing it is!" exclaimed Martel after a +fruitless attempt to hold his tongue. "Ricardo would have us go +prowling like robbers when our hearts are singing loud enough for all +the mountainside to hear. There is no evil in the world to-night, for +the world is in love; to-morrow it bursts into happiness! And I am +king over it all!" + +"I shall be glad to be rid of you, just the same," grumbled the old +man. + +"Ricardo alone has fears, but he was never young. Think you that the +gods would permit my wedding-day to be marred? Bah! One can see evil +before it comes; it casts a shadow; it has a chilling breath which any +one with sensibilities can feel. As for me, I see the future as +clearly as if it were spread out before me in the sunshine, and there +is no misfortune in it anywhere. I cannot conceive of misfortune, with +all this gladness and expectancy inside me." + +"They have begun the fireworks," said Blake. "It's too bad you +couldn't stay to see them, Martel." He turned in his saddle, and the +others reined in as a rocket soared into the night sky and burst with +a shower of sparks. Others followed and a detonation sounded faintly. + +"Poor people!" said the Count, gently. "I can hear them crying, 'Oh!' +'Ah!' 'Beautiful!' 'It is an angel from heaven!'" + +"On the contrary, I'll warrant they're exclaiming, 'It is that angel +from San Sebastiano.' You have given them a great night." + +The Count laughed. "Yes. They will have much to talk and dream about. +Their lives are very barren, you know, and I hope the Countess and I +will be able to make them brighter as the years go by. Oh, I have +plans, caro mio, so many plans I scarcely know where to begin or how +to talk about them. I could never be an artist, no matter how +furiously I painted, no matter how many beautiful women I drew; but I +can paint smiles upon the faces of those sad women down yonder. I can +bring happiness into their lives. And that will be a picture to look +back upon, eh? Don't you think so? When they learn to know me, when +they learn to love and trust me, there will be brighter days at +Terranova and at San Sebastiano." + +"They love you now, I am sure." + +"I am too much a stranger yet. I have neglected my duties, but--well, +in my travels I have learned some things that will be of benefit to us +all. I see so much to do. It is delightful to be young and full of +hopes, and to have the means of realizing them. Above all, it is +delicious to know that there is one who will share those ambitions and +efforts with you. I see Ricardo is disgusted with me, but he is a +pessimist. He does not believe in charity and love." + +"What foolish talk!" protested the old man with heat. "Do I not love +my girl Lucrezia? Do I not love you, the Countess, and--and--perhaps a +few others?" + +Martel laughed. "I was merely teasing you." + +They resumed their journey, leaving the showering meteors behind them, +and the Count, in the lightness of his heart, began humming a tune. + +As for Blake, he rode as silently as Ferara, being lost in +contemplation of a happiness in which he had no part. Not until this +moment had he realized how entirely unnecessary he was to the +existence of Martel and Margherita. He longed to remain a part of +them, but saw that his desire was vain. They were complete without +him, their lives would be full. He began to feel like a stranger +already. It was a new sensation, for he had always seemed to be a +factor in the lives of those about him; but Martel had changed with +the advent of new interests and ambitions. Sicily, too, was different +from any land he knew, and even Margherita Ginini was hard to +understand. She seemed to be the spirit of Sicily made flesh and +blood. He wondered if the very fact that she was so unusual might not +help him to forget her once he was away from her influence. He hoped +so, for this last week had been the most painful period of his life. +He had come south, somewhat against his will, for a kaleidoscopic +glimpse of Europe, never dreaming that he would carry back to America +anything more than the usual flitting memories of a pleasant trip; but +instead he was destined to take with him a single vivid picture. He +argued that he was merely infatuated with the girl, carried away by +the allurement of a new and remarkable type of woman, and that these +headlong passions were neither healthy nor lasting; but his reasoning +brought him no real sense of conviction, and his life, as he looked +forward to it, appeared singularly flat and stale. His one +consolation, poor as it seemed, lay in the fact that he had played the +man to the best of his ability and was really glad, even if a bit +envious, of Martel's good-fortune. + +He let his thoughts run free in this manner, sitting his horse +listlessly, for he was tired mentally and physically, watching the +gray road idly as it slipped past beneath the muffled hoofs, and +lulled by Savigno's musical humming. + +It was while he was still in this half-somnolent, semidetached frame +of mind that he rode into a sudden white-hot whirl of events. + +Norvin Blake was never clear in his mind regarding the precise +sequence of the action that followed, for he was snatched too quickly +from his mental relaxation to retain any well-defined impressions. He +recalled vaguely that the road lay like a mysterious canon walled in +with darkness, and that his thoughts were miles away when his horse +shied without warning, nearly unseating him and bringing him back to a +sense of his surroundings with a shock. Simultaneously he heard a cry +from Ricardo; it was a scream of agony, cutting through Savigno's song +like a saber stroke. For a moment Blake's heart seemed to stop, then +began pounding crazily. A stream of fire leaped out at his left side, +splitting the quiet night with a detonation. The wood which had lain +so silent and deserted an instant before was lit by answering flashes, +the blackness at an arm's-length on every side was stabbed by wicked +tongues of flame, and the road swarmed with grotesque bodies leaping +and tumbling and fighting. Blake's horse reared as something black +rose up beneath its forefeet and snatched at its bridle; Martel's +steed lurched into it, then fell kicking and screaming, sending its +mate careening to the roadside. The unexpected movement wrenched +Norvin's feet from the stirrups and left him clinging desperately to +mane and cantle. + +It all came with a terrifying swiftness--quite as if the three riders +had crossed over a powder-train at the instant of its eruption, to +find themselves, in the fraction of a second, involved in chaos. + +Ricardo's horse thundered away, riderless, leaving a squirming, +wriggling confusion of forms in the road where the overseer was +battling for his life. Martel's voice rose shrilly in a curse, and +then Norvin felt himself dragged roughly from his saddle, whether by +human hands or by some overhanging tree-branch he never knew. The +force of his fall bruised and stunned him, but he struggled weakly to +his feet only to find himself in the grasp of a man whose black visage +fronted his own. He tried to break away, but his bones were like rope, +his muscles were flabby and shaking. He exerted no more force than a +child. In front of him something sickening, something unspeakably foul +and horrible, was going on, and in its presence he was wholly +unmanned. More hands seized him quickly, but he lacked the vigor to +attempt an escape. On the contrary, he hung limp and paralyzed with +terror. The mystery, the uncertainty, the hideous significance of that +wordless scuffle in the dusty road rendered him nerveless, and he +cried out shakingly, like a man in a nightmare. + +A voice commanded him to be silent, a hot breath beat against his +cheek; but he could not restrain his hysteria, and one of his captors +began to throttle him. He heard his name called and saw Savigno's +figure outlined briefly against the gray background, saw another +figure blend with it, then heard Martel's voice end in a rising cry +which lived to haunt his memory. It rose in protest, in surprise, as +if the Count doubted even at the last that death could really claim +him. Then it broke in a thin, wavering shriek. + +Blake may have fainted; at any rate, his body was beyond his control, +and his next remembrance was of being half dragged, half thrust +forward out into the lesser shadows. There was no longer any +struggling, although men were speaking excitedly and he could hear +them panting; some one was working the ejector of a rifle as if it had +stuck. A tall man was wiping his hands upon some dried grass pluck'ed +from the roadside, and he was cursing. + +"Who is this?" he cried, thrusting his face into the American's and +showing a brutal countenance bristly with a week's growth of beard. + +"The stranger," one of Blake's captors answered, whereupon the tall +man uttered a violent exclamation. + +"Wait!" cried the other. "He is already dying. He cannot stand." + +Some one else explained, "It is indeed the American, but he is +wounded." + +"Let me finish the work; he has seen too much," said the first +speaker, roughly. + +"No, no! He is the American. Do you not understand?" + +"Remember the order, Narcone," cautioned another. + +But Narcone continued to curse as if mastered by the craving to kill, +and if the others had not laid hands upon him he might have made good +his intention. They argued with him, all at once, and in the midst of +the confusion which ensued a new voice called from the darkness: + +"What have you there?" + +"The American! He cannot stand." + +A square figure came swiftly through the group, muttering angrily, and +the others fell back to give him room, all but Narcone, who repeated, +doggedly: + +"Let me finish the work if you fear to do so." + +His companions broke out at him again in a babble of argument, +whereupon the new-comer shouted at them in a furious voice: + +"Silenzio! Who did this?" + +No one answered for a moment, but at length the brigand who held +Blake's hands pinioned at his back with a sash or scarf ventured to +suggest: + +"I am not so sure he is injured. We pulled him down first; he may only +be frightened." + +"There was to be no shooting," growled the leader of the band. + +"Eh? But you saw for yourself. There was nothing else to do," said +Narcone. "That Ricardo was an old wolf." + +The thick-set man, whom Norvin took to be the infamous Cardi himself, +cried sharply: + +"Come, come, Signore, speak! Are you hurt?" + +The prisoner shook his head mechanically, although he did not know +whether he was injured or not. His denial seemed to satisfy the chief, +who said with relief: + +"It is well. We did not wish to harm you. There would be consequences, +you understand? And now a match, somebody." + +"It is not necessary," Narcone assured him with a laugh. "Of what use +to learn a trade like mine if one cannot strike true? The knife went +home, twice--once for us, once for poor Galli, who was murdered. It +was like killing sheep." Picking up the wisp of grass which he had +dropped, he began to dry his hands once more. + +A tiny flame flickered in the darkness. It was lowered until it shone +upon the upturned face of Ricardo Ferara where he lay sprawled in the +dust, his teeth showing beneath his gray mustache, then died away, and +the black outlines of the bull-necked man leaped into relief again as +he stooped to examine Martel. + +Not until that instant did the full, crushing horror of the affair +come home to the American, for events had crowded one another so +closely that his mind was confused; but when, in the halting yellow +glare, he saw those two slack forms and the crooked, unnatural +postures in which death had left them, his consciousness cleared and +he strained at his bonds like a fear-maddened horse. + +His actual danger, however, was at an end. One of the band removed the +rifle which still hung from his shoulders and which he had forgotten; +another slipped the scarf from his wrists and directed him to go. He +staggered away down the road along which he and Martel and Ricardo had +come, walking like a sick man, for he was crippled with, fright. After +a few steps he began to run, heavily, awkwardly at first, stumbling as +if his joints were loose; but as his body awoke and the blood surged +through him he went faster and faster until he was fleeing like a wild +animal. And as he ran his terror grew. He fell many times, goblin +shapes pursued him or leaped forth from the shadows, but he knew that +no matter how fast he fled he could never escape the thing he had met +back there in the night. It was not the grisly sight of his murdered +friend nor the bared teeth of Ricardo Ferara grinning upward out of +the road which filled him with the greatest horror; it was the +knowledge of his own foul, sickening cowardice. He ran wildly as if to +leave it behind, but it trod in his tracks and kept step with him. + +The pyrotechnics at Terranova were nearly over and the grounds echoed +to the applause of the delighted spectators. The Donna Teresa was +leaning upon the arm of Colonel Neri and saying: + +"No one but that extravagant Martel would have entertained these poor +people so magnificently, but there is no reasoning with him when he +has an idea." + +"It is the finest display since the fair at San Felice two years ago," +the Colonel acknowledged. They had come out upon the open piazza which +overlooked the lawn, and the other guests who had been present at the +supper had followed suit and were gathered there to admire the +spectacle. + +"The country people will never finish discussing it. Why, it has been +the greatest event this village ever witnessed. And Margherita! Have +you ever seen her so beautiful?" The old lady spoke with pride, for +she was very happy. + +"Never!" Colonel Neri fondled his mustache tenderly. "She is ablaze +with love. Oh, that Martel has broken all our hearts, lucky fellow! I +could hate him if I did not like him so." + +"You men, without exception, pretend to adore her but it is flattery; +you know that she loves it and that it pleases me. Now Martel--Madonna +mia! What is this?" She broke off sharply and pointed toward the main +gateway to the grounds. + +By the light that gleamed from the trees on each side of the driveway +men could be seen approaching at a run; others were hurrying toward +them across the terrace, calling excitedly to one another. A woman +screamed something unintelligible, but the tone of her voice brought a +hush over the merrymakers. + +In the midst of the group coming up the road was one who labored +heavily. He was bareheaded, gray with dust, and he staggered as if +wounded. + +"Some one has been hurt," exclaimed the Colonel. "Maledetto! There has +been a fight." He dropped his companion's arm and hastened to the +steps, then halfway down paused, staring. He whirled quickly and cried +to the old lady: "Wait! Do not come." + +But Madame Fazello had seen the white face of the runner, and +screamed: + +"Mother of God! The American!" + +The other guests from the balcony pressed forward with alarmed +inquiries. No one guessed as yet what had befallen, but the loud +voices died away, a murmuring tide swept the merrymakers toward the +castello. + +"What has happened, Signore?" Colonel Neri was crying. "Speak!" + +"The Mafia!" Blake gasped. "Martel--is--" His knees sagged and he +would have pitched forward had not the soldier supported him. "We met +them--in the woods. Cardi--" + +"Cardi!" echoed the Colonel in a harsh voice. + +"Cardi!" came from a dozen frightened throats. The Donna Teresa +uttered a second shrill cry, and then through the ranks of staring, +chalk-faced peasants the Countess came running swiftly. + +"Cardi!" she cried. "What is this I hear?" + +"Go away, Signorina, I beseech you," exclaimed the Colonel of +carbineers. "Something dreadful has occurred." But she disregarded him +and faced Norvin Blake. + +He raised his dripping, dust-smeared face and nodded, whereat she +closed her eyes an instant and swayed. But she made no outcry. + +"Take her--away," he wheezed painfully. "God in heaven! Don't you-- +understand?" + +Even yet there was no coherent speech and the people merely stared at +one another or inquired, dully: + +"What did he say? What is this about Cardi?" + +"Take her away," Blake repeated. But the Countess recovered herself +and with a little gesture bade him go on. He told his story haltingly, +clinging to the Colonel to prevent himself from falling, his matted +head rolling weakly from side to side. When he had finished a furious +clamor broke forth from the men, the women, and the children. Neri +commanded them roughly to silence. + +"Run to the village, some one, and give the alarm," he ordered in the +voice of a sick man. "Call Sandro and his men and bid them bring extra +horses." + +A half-dozen fleet-footed youths broke away and were off before he had +finished speaking. Then Blake was helped into the hall of the +castello, where the confusion was less. + +Lucrezia Ferara, who had been in the rear of the house and was among +the last to hear the evil tidings, came running to him with colorless +lips and eyes distended, crying: + +"The truth, Signore, for the love of Christ! They tell me he is +murdered, but I know it is a lie." + +The notary's wife attempted to calm her, but the girl began to scream, +flinging herself upon her knees at the feet of the American, begging +him to tell her it was all a mistake. + +"My father would not die," she cried, loudly. "He was here but an hour +ago and he kissed me." + +She would not be calmed and became so violent that it required force +to remove her. As soon as she was out of the way, Colonel Neri began +questioning Norvin rapidly, at the same time striving by his own +example to steady the young man, who was in a terrible condition of +collapse. Bit by bit, the soldier learned all there was to learn of +the shocking story, and through it all the Countess Margherita stood +at his elbow, never speaking. Her eyes were glazed with horror, her +lips were whispering something over and over, but when her cousin +appealed to her to leave the scene she seemed not to hear him. She +only stood and stared at the exhausted man until he could bear it no +longer and, hiding his face in his hands, he began to shiver and +cringe and sob. + +It seemed to him that she must know; that all these people must know +the truth, and see his shame as if it were blazoned in fire. Their +horror was for him; their looks were changing even now to contempt and +hatred. Why did they not accuse him openly instead of staring with +wide, shocked eyes? Realization had come to him long before he had +reached Terranova, and he was sick with loathing for himself. Now, +therefore, in every blanched cheek, in every parted lip, he felt an +accusation. He supposed all the world would have to know it, and it +was a thing he could never live down. He wished he might have died as +Martel had died, might die even now, and escape this torture; but with +every breath life flowed back into him, his heart was no longer +bursting, his lungs were no longer splitting. + +"Why do you wait?" he queried at length, thinking of Martel out there +on the lonely mountainside. "Why don't you go fetch him?" + +Neri said, soothingly: "Help will be here in a few moments, Signore. +You could not sit a horse yet a while." + +"I?" Blake asked blankly, and shuddered. So they expected him to +return through that darkness--to guide them to the horror from which +he had just fled! He would not go! His mind recoiled at the thought +and terror came upon him afresh. Nevertheless, he made an effort at +self-control, lurched to his feet, and chattered through clicking +teeth: "Come on! I'm ready." + +"Presently! Presently! There will be men and horses here in a moment." +In a lower tone the Colonel urged: "For the love of our Saviour, can +you not send the Contessa away? I am afraid she is dying." + +Blake went to the girl and laid a shaking hand upon her arm, +stammering, wretchedly: + +"Contessa, you--you--" He could not go on and turned appealingly to +the others. + +"You say he is dead?" she inquired dully. "How can that be when you +told me there was no danger?" + +"I did not know. Oh--" he lowered his working features. "If it had +only been I, instead!" + +She nodded. "That would have been better." + +From somewhere to the rear of the house came the shrill screams of +Lucrezia, and the Countess cried: "Poor child! They did not even spare +Ricardo, but--after all, he was only a father." + +Neri said, gently: "Let me help you, Signorina. The doctor is with +your aunt, but I will call him." + +"He cannot give me back Martel," she answered in the same dull, +lifeless tone. + +Voices, footsteps, sounded outside and a man in the cocked hat and +uniform of a lieutenant of carbineers came briskly into the hall and +saluted his superior. + +"We are ready, sir." + +The Countess roused herself, saying: "Then come! I too am ready." + +"Heaven above us!" Neri faltered. "You are not going." He took her by +the hand and led her away from the door. "No, my child, we will go +alone. You must wait." His face was twitching, and the sweat dripped +from his square jaw as he nodded to Blake. + +They went out into the mocking glare of the garden lights, leaving her +standing in the great hall like a statue of ivory, her lips dumbly +framing the name of her lover. + + + + +VI + +A NEW RESOLVE + + + +All Sicily blazed with the account of the assassination of the Count +of Martinello and his overseer. All Italy took it up and called for +vengeance. There went forth to the world by wire, by post, and through +the public press a many-voiced and authoritative promise that the +brigandage which had cursed the island for so many generations should +be extirpated. The outrage was the one topic of conversation from +Trapani to Genoa, from Brindisi to Venice, in clubs, in homes, upon +the streets. Carbineers and soldiers came pouring into Terranova and +San Sebastiano. They scoured the mountains and patrolled the roads; +they searched the houses and farms, the valleys and thickets, and as +the days dragged on, proving the futility of their efforts, still more +carbineers arrived. But no trace of Cardi, of Narcone, or of the other +outlaws was discovered. Rewards were offered, doubled, trebled; the +north coast seethed with excitement. + +The rank of the young Count and his fiancee enlisted the interest of +the nobility, the lively-minded middle classes were romantically +stirred by the picture of the lonely girl stricken on the eve of her +wedding, and yet notwithstanding the fact that towns were searched, +forests dragged as with a net, no quarry came to bay. + +Colonel Neri explained it to Norvin, as he rode in to San Sebastiano +after thirty-six hours in the saddle. + +"It is this accursed Sicilian Mafia," he growled. "The common people +are shocked, horrified, sympathetic, and yet they fear to show their +true feelings. They dare not tell what they know. Mark you, those men +are not hiding in the forests, they are here in San Sebastiano or the +other villages under our very noses; perhaps they are strutting the +streets of Palermo or Bagheria or Messina marked by a hundred eyes, +discussed by a hundred tongues, and yet we cannot surprise a look or +win the slightest hint. Fifty arrests have been made, but there will +be fifty alibis proven. It is maddening, it is damnable, it is-- +Sicily!" He swore wearily beneath his breath, and twirled his mustache +with listless fingers. + +"Then you are losing hope?" + +"No. I had none to begin with, for I know these people. But we are +doing everything possible. God in heaven! The country is wild. From +Rome has come the order, definite, explicit, to stamp out the +banditti, if it requires an army; enough soldiers are coming to defeat +the Germans. But the more we have the less we shall accomplish. 'Sweep +Sicily!' 'Stamp out the Mafia!' What does Rome know about the Mafia? +Signore, did we arrest one half of those whom we know to be Mafiosi, +Rome would need to send us, not an army of soldiers, but regiments of +stone masons to enlarge our prisons. No! Send back the armed men, give +me ten thousand of your American dollars, and ten of my carbineers, +and I will catch Cardi, though it would require the cunning of the +devil. However, we may find something; who can tell? At any rate we +will try." + +"Can't you work secretly?" + +"It is being done, but we are too many. We make too much noise. The +Sicilian distrusts the law and above all he distrusts his neighbor. He +will perjure himself to acquit a Mafioso rather than betray him and +become a victim of his vengeance. He who talks little is wise. Of that +which does not concern him he says neither good nor evil; that is a +part of the Sicilians' training. But--miracles have happened, and God +may intervene for that saintly girl at Terranova. And now tell me, how +is the poor child bearing up?" + +"I haven't seen her since we brought in Martel's body. I couldn't, in +fact, although I have sent word for her to call me when she is ready. +It seems a long time since--since--" + +Neri shook his head in sorrowful agreement. + +"I have never seen such grief. My heart bleeds. She was so still! Not +a tear! Not an outcry! It was terrible! Weak women do not act in that +manner. But you have suffered also, and I judge you have rested no +more than I." + +"I can't rest," Blake said, dully. "I can do nothing but think." He +did not reveal the nature of the thoughts which in the short space of +thirty-six hours had put lines into his face. Instead, he scanned the +officer's countenance with fearful eyes to see if by any chance he had +guessed the truth. Blake had found himself looking thus at every one +since the tragedy, and it was a source of constant wonder to him that +his secret had remained his own. It seemed that they must know and +loathe him as he loathed himself. But on the contrary he was treated +with sympathy on all sides, and it was taken merely as an example of +the outlaws' cunning that they had refrained from injuring a +foreigner. To illustrate how curiously the Sicilian mind works on +these subjects, there were some who even spoke of it as demonstrating +the fairness of the bandits, thus to exclude Savigno's friend from any +connection with their quarrel. + +During the long hours since the night of his friend's death Blake had +looked at himself in all his nakedness of soul, and the sight was not +pleasant. He could never escape the thought that if he had acted the +part of a man, if he had resisted with the promptness and vigor of his +companions, the result might have been different and Martel might at +this moment be on his way to Rome with his bride, alive and well. On +such occasions he felt like a murderer. But his mind was not always +undivided in this self-condemnation; there were times when with some +show of justice he told himself that the result would have been the +same or even worse if he had fought; and he tried to ease his +conscience by dwelling on the possibility that under other +circumstances he might not have proved a coward. He had been +physically tired, worn out; his nervous force had been spent. At the +moment of ambush his mind had been far away and he had had no time in +which to gather his wits. Moral courage, he knew, is quite different +from physical courage, which may depend upon one's digestion, one's +state of mind, or the amount of sleep one has had. It is sometimes +present in physical weaklings, and men of great daring may entirely +lack it. A man's behavior when suddenly attacked and overpowered is a +test of his nerve rather than his true nature. Still, at the last, he +was always faced by the stark, ugly fact that he had been tried and +found wanting. Conversation with Neri he found rather a relief. + +"I wonder what the Countess will do?" he said. + +"What would any one do? She will grieve for a long while, but time +will gradually rob her of her sorrow. She will remember Martel as a +saint and marry some sinner like you or me." + +"Marry? Never!" + +"Never?" The Colonel raised his brows. "She is young, she is human, +she is full of fire. It would be a great pity if she did not allow +herself to love--a great pity indeed." + +"I'm afraid she's thinking more of vengeance than of love." + +"Perhaps, but hatred is short-lived, while love grows younger all the +time. The world is full of great loves, but great hates usually +consume themselves quickly. I hope she will leave all thoughts of such +things to us who make a business of them." + +"If you fail, as you fear, she might feel bound to take up the task +where you leave it." + +"And she might succeed. But--" + +"But what?" + +"Revenge is a cold bedfellow, and women are designed to cherish finer +sentiments. As for Lucrezia, she will doubtless swear a vendetta, like +those Sardinians." + +"She has." + +"Indeed! Well, she is the kind to nourish hatred, for she is like her +father, silent, somber, unforgiving, whereas the Contessa is all +sunshine. But hear me talk! I am dying of fatigue. The funeral is at +twelve? It will be very sad and the poor girl will be under the +greatest strain then, so we must be with her, you and I. And then I +must be off again upon the trail of this infamous Cardi, who is, and +who is not. Ah, well!" He yawned widely. "We may accomplish the +impossible, or if not we may press him so closely that he will sail +for your America, which would not be so bad, after all." + +Of course the country people turned out for the funeral, but for the +most part they came from curiosity. To Norvin the presence of such +spectators at the last sacred rites for the dead seemed sacrilegious, +indecent, and he knew that it must add to Margherita's pain. It was an +endless, heart-rending ordeal, a great somber, impressive pageant, of +which he remembered little save a tall, tawny girl crushed beneath a +grief so great that his own seemed trivial in comparison. + +She was in such a state of physical collapse after the service that +she did not send for him until the second day following. He came +timidly even then, for he was at a loss how to comfort her, vividly +conscious as he was of his own guilt and shame. He found her crouched +upon one of the old stone benches in the garden in the full hot glare +of the sun. It relieved him to find that she had lost her unnatural +self-control, having fallen, it seemed, into much the same mood he +would have expected in any woman. It had been so hard to find what to +say heretofore--for she was braver than those about her and her grief +was so deep as to render words of comfort futile. Her eyes now were +heavy and full of haunting shadows, her ivory cheeks were pale, her +lips tremulous, and she seemed at last to crave sympathy. + +"I do not know why I have summoned you," she said, leaving her hand in +his, "unless it is because my loneliness has begun and I lack the +courage to face it." + +"I have been waiting. It will always be so, Contessa. I shall come +from across the world whenever you need me." + +She smiled listlessly. "You are very good. I knew you were waiting. It +seems so strange to know that he is gone"--her voice caught, her eyes +filled, then cleared without overflowing--"and that the world is +moving on again in the same way and only I am left standing by the +wayside. You cannot wait with me; you must move on with the rest of +the world. You had planned to go home, and you must, for you have your +work and it calls you." + +"Please don't think of it. I sha'n't leave you for a long time. I +promised Martel--" + +"You promised? Then he had reason to suspect?" + +"He would not acknowledge the possibility, and yet he must have had a +premonition." + +"Oh, why will men trust themselves when women know! If he had told me, +if he had confided his fears to me, I could have told him what to do." + +"I couldn't leave now, even if I wished, for I might be needed by the--the +law. You understand? It isn't finished with me yet." + +"The law will not need you," she told him bitterly. "The law will do +nothing. The task is for other hands." + +After a pause he said, "I had news from home to-day,--rather bad +news." Then at her quick look of inquiry he went on: "Nothing serious, +I hope, nothing to take me away. My mother is ill and has cabled me to +come." + +"Then you will go at once, of course?" + +"No. I've tried to explain to her the situation here, and the +necessity of my remaining for a time at least. Unless she grows worse +I shall stay and try to help Neri in his search." + +"It is a great comfort to have you near, for in you I see a part of-- +Martel. You were his other half. But there are other aching hearts, it +seems. That mother calls to you, and you ought to go. Besides, I must +begin my work." + +"What work?" + +She met his eyes squarely. "You know without asking. Neri will fail; +no Italian could succeed; no one could succeed except a Sicilian. I am +one." + +"You mean to bring those men to justice?" + +She nodded. "Certainly! Who else can do it?" + +"But, my dear Signorina, think what that means. They are of a class +with which you can have no contact. They are the dregs; there is the +Mafia to reckon with. How will you go about it?" + +"I will become one of them, if necessary." + +He answered her in a shocked voice. "No, no! You are mad to think of +it. If you were a man you might have some chance for success, but you--a +girl, a gentlewoman!" + +"I am a Sicilian. I am rich, too. I have resources." She took him by +the arm as she had done that first time when the thought of Martel's +danger had roused her. "I told you no power could save them; no +hiding-place could be so secret, no lies so cunning that I would not +know. Well! Those soldiers have failed and will continue to fail. But +you see they did not love Martel. I shall live for this thing." + +"I won't allow you to dwell on the subject; it isn't natural, and it +isn't good for you. The desire to see justice done is commendable and +proper, but the desire for revenge isn't. You must not sacrifice your +life to it. There is a law of compensation; those men will be +apprehended." + +"Where is my compensation? What had Martel done to warrant this?" + +He fell silent, and she shook her head as if to indicate the +hopelessness of answering her. After a moment of meditation he began +again, gravely: + +"If you feel that way, I shall make you an offer. Give up your idea of +taking an active personal part in this quest, and I will assume your +place. We will work together, but you will direct while I face the +risks." + +"You are a stranger. We would be sure to fail. I thank you, but my +mind is made up." + +"If it becomes known, you will be in great danger. Think! Life is +before you, and all its possibilities. Please let other hands do +this." + +"It is useless to argue," she said, firmly. "I am like rock. I have +begun already and I have accomplished more than Colonel Neri and his +carbineers. I see Aliandro coming now, and I think he has news. He +knows many things of which the soldiers do not dream, for he is one of +the people. You will excuse me?" + +"Of course, but--I can't let you undertake so dangerous a task without +a protest. I shall come back, if I may." + +He rose as the old man shuffled down the path, and went in search of +the Donna Teresa, for he was determined to offer every discouragement +in his power to what struck him as an extremely rash and perilous +course. Men like Belisario Cardi, or Narcone the Butcher, would +hesitate no more in attacking a woman than a man. He knew the whole +Sicilian country to be a web of intrigue and secret understandings, +sensitive to the slightest touch and possessed of many means of +communication. It was a great ear which heard the slightest stir, and +its unfailing efficiency was shown by the ease with which the bandits +had forestalled every effort of the authorities. + +In the hall of the manor house he encountered Lucrezia and stopped to +speak to her. + +"You would do a great deal to protect the Countess, would you not?" he +asked. + +"Yes, Signore. She has been both a sister and a mother to me. But what +do you mean?" + +Ferara's daughter was a robust girl of considerable physical charm, +but although her training at Terranova had done much for her, it was +still evident that she was a country woman. She had nursed her grief +with all the sullen fierceness of a peasant, and even now her face and +eyes were swollen from weeping. + +Blake explained briefly his concern, but when he had finished, the +girl surprised him by breaking forth into a furious denunciation of +the assassins. She surrendered to her passion with complete abandon, +and began to curse the names of Cardi and Gian Narcone horribly. + +"We demand blood to wash our blood," she cried. "I curse them and +their souls, living and dead, in the name of God who made my father, +in the name of Christ who died for him, in the name of the holy saints +who could not save him. In the name of the whole world I curse them. +May they pray and not be heard. May they repent unforgiven and lie +unburied. May every living thing that bears their names die in agony +before their eyes. May their women and unborn children be afflicted +with every unclean thing until they pray for death at my hands--" + +"Lucrezia!" He seized her roughly and clapped his hand over her mouth, +for her voice was rising steadily and threatened to rouse the whole +household. Her cheeks were white, she was shaking with long, tearless +sobs. She would have broken out again when he released her had he not +commanded her to be silent. He tried to explain that this work of +vengeance was not for her or for the Countess, and to point out the +ruin that was sure to follow any attempt on their part to take up the +work of the carabinieri, but she shook her head, declaring stubbornly: + +"We have sworn it." + +The more he argued the more obstinate she became, until, seeing the +ineffectiveness of his pleas, he gave up any further effort to move +her, sorry that he had raised such a storm. He went on in search of +Madam Fazello, with Lucrezia's parting words ringing ominously in his +ears: + +"If we die, we shall be buried; if we live, we shall give them to the +hangman." + +From Margherita's aunt he got but little comfort or hope of +assistance. + +"Oh, my dear boy, I agree with your every word," the old lady said. +"But what can I do? I know better than you what it will lead to, but +Margherita is like iron--there is no reasoning with her. She would +sacrifice herself, Lucrezia, even me, to see Martel avenged, and if +she does not have her way she will burn herself to ashes. As for +Lucrezia, she is demented, and they do nothing all day but scheme and +plan with Aliandro, who is himself as bad as any bandit. I have no +voice with them; they do with me as they will." She hid her face in +her trembling fingers and wept softly. "And to think--we were all so +happy with Martel!" + +"Nevertheless, somebody must dissuade them from this enterprise. It is +no matter for two girls and an old man to undertake." + +"I pray hourly for guidance, but I am frightened, so frightened! When +Margherita talks to me, when I see her high resolve, I am ready to +follow; then when I am alone I become like water again." + +"What are her plans?" + +"I do not know. I have begged her to take her sorrow to God. The +bishop who came from Messina to marry Martel and remained to bury him +has joined me. There is a convent at Palermo--" + +"No, no!" Blake cried, vehemently. "Not that! That life is not for +her. She must do nothing at all until her grief has had time to moderate." + +"It will never be less. You do not know her. But you are the one to +reason with her." + +Realizing that the old lady was powerless, he returned to the garden +and tried once more to weaken the girl's resolution, but without +success. It was with a very troubled mind that he took the train back +to San Sebastiano that afternoon. + +The more he thought it over, the more certain he became that it was +his duty to remain in Sicily until Margherita had reached her right +senses. Martel had put a trust in him, and what could be more +important than to prevent her from carrying out this fantastic +enterprise? He would take up the search for the assassins in her +place, allowing her to work through him and in that way satisfying her +determination. What she needed above all things was distraction, +occupation. If she remained persistent they would work side by side +until justice had been done, and meanwhile he would become a part of +her life. He might make himself necessary to her. At least he would +prevent her from doing anything rash and perhaps fatal. In time he +would prevail upon her to travel, to seek recreation, and then her +youth would be bound to tell. That would be the work of a friend +indeed, that would remove at least a part of the obligation which +rested upon him. Some day, he reasoned, the Countess might even marry +and be happy in spite of what had occurred. As he contemplated the +idea, it began to seem less improbable. What if she should come to +care for him? He would still be true to Martel, for how could he +protect her better than by making her his wife? His heart leaped at +the thought, but then his old self-disgust returned, reminding him +that he had yet to prove himself a man. + +As he stepped down from the train at San Sebastiano the station master +met him with a telegram. Even before he opened it he guessed its +contents, and his spirits sank. Was he never to escape these maddening +questions of duty--never to be free to pursue his heart's desire? + +It was a cablegram, and read: + +"Come quickly. + + "KENEAR." + +He regarded it gravely for a moment, striving to balance his duty to +Martel and the girl against his duty to his mother, but his hesitation +was brief. He stepped into the little telegraph office with the +mandarin-tree peering in at the open window and wrote his answer. He +did not try to deceive himself; the mere fact that Dr. Kenear had been +summoned from New Orleans showed as plainly as the message itself that +his mother's condition was more serious than he had supposed. She was +alone with many responsibilities upon her frail shoulders, and she was +calling for her son. There was but one thing to do. + +He stopped at the barracks to explain the necessity for his immediate +departure to Colonel Neri, who was most sympathetic. "You are not +needed here," the soldier assured him, "and you would have to go, even +though you were. You made your statement at the inquest; there is +nothing further for you to do until we accomplish the capture of +somebody. Even then I doubt if you could identify any one of those +bandits." + +"I think I should know Narcone anywhere." + +The Colonel shrugged. "Narcone has been swallowed by the earth. As for +Cardi and the rest, they have become thin smoke and the wind has +carried them away. We are precisely where we were at the start. +Perhaps it is fortunate for you that you have not been called upon to +testify against any of the band, for even the fact that you are a +foreigner might not save you from--unpleasant results." + +Norvin reasoned silently that if this were indeed true it more than +confirmed his fears for the Countess, and after a brief hesitation he +told the soldier what he had learned at his visit to Terranova. Neri +rose and paced the room in agitation. + +"Oh! She is mad indeed!" he exclaimed. "What can she do that we have +not already done? Aliandro? Bah! He is a doddering old reprobate who +will spread news instead of gather it. He has a bad record, and +although he loved Martel and doubtless loves Margherita, I have no +confidence in him whatever. She will accomplish nothing but her own +undoing." + +"I am afraid so, too. That is why I shall return to Sicily as soon as +possible." + +"Indeed? Then you plan to come back? Martel was fortunate to have so +good a friend as you, Signore. We must both do all we can to prevent +this folly on the part of his sweetheart. You may rest assured that I +shall make every effort in your absence." The Colonel extended his +hand, and Norvin took it, feeling some relief in the knowledge that +there was at least one man close to the girl upon whose caution he +could rely and upon whose good offices he could count. He had grown to +like the soldier during their brief acquaintance, and the fact that +Neri knew and appreciated the situation helped to reconcile him to the +thought of going away. + +He was not ready to leave Sicily, however, without one final appeal, +and accordingly he stopped at Terranova on the following morning on +his way to Messina, where a boat was sailing for Naples that night. +But he found no change in the Countess; on the contrary, she told him +gently but firmly that she had made up her mind once for all and that +she would resent any further efforts at dissuasion. + +"Won't you even wait until I return?" he inquired. + +She shook her head and smiled sadly. + +"Do not let us deceive ourselves, amico mio; you will not return." + +"On the contrary, I shall. You make it necessary for me to return +whether I wish to or not." + +"The ocean is wide, the world moves. You are a foreigner and you will +forget. It is only in Sicily that people remember." + +"Will you give me time to prove you wrong?" + +"I could not allow it. You have your own life to live; you have a +multitude of duties. Martel, you see, was only your friend. But with +me it is different. He was my lover; my life was a part of his and my +duty will not let me sleep." + +"You have no reason to say I will forget." + +"It is the way of the world. Then, too, there is the other woman. You +will see her. You will find a way, perhaps." + +But he replied, doggedly, "I shall return to Sicily." + +"When?" + +"I can't tell. A month from now--two months at the longest." + +"It would be very sweet to have you near," she said musingly, "for I +am lonely, very lonely, and with you I feel at rest, at peace in a +way. But something drives me, Signore, and I cannot promise. If you +should not forget, if you should wish to join hands with me, then I +should thank God and be very glad. But I sha'n't wish for it; that +would be unfair." + +His voice shook as he said, "I am going to prove to you that your life +is not hopelessly wrecked, and to show you that there is something +worth living for." + +She laid her two cool hands in his and looked deeply into his eyes, +but if she saw what lay in them she showed no altered feeling in her +words or tone. + +"Martel would be glad to have you near me, I am sure," she said, "but +I shall only pray for your safety and your happiness in that far-off +America. Good-by." + +He kissed her fingers, vowing silently to devote his whole life to +her, and finding it very hard to leave. + + + + +VII + +THE SEARCH BEGINS + + + +It was ten months later when Norvin Blake landed at Messina and took +the morning train westward to Terranova. As he disposed his +travelling-bags in a corner of the compartment, and settled himself +for the short journey, he felt a kind of irrational surprise at the +fact that there had been no changes during his absence. The city was +just as dirty and uninteresting as when he had left, the beggars were +just as ragged and importunate, the street coaches were just as +rickety. It required an effort to realize that ten months is, after +all, a very short time, for it seemed ten years since he had sailed +away. It had been a difficult period for him, one crowded with many +changes, readjustments, and responsibilities. He had gone far, he had +done much, he had been pressed by cares and anxieties on every side, +and even at the last he had willfully abandoned urgent duties, to his +own great loss and to the intense disgust of his friends, in order to +come back according to his promise. His return had been delayed from +week to week, from month to month, in spite of all he could do, and +meanwhile his thoughts had not been in America at all, but in Sicily, +causing him to fret and chafe at the necessities which bound him to +his post. Now, however, the day upon which he had counted had arrived; +he had taken his liberty regardless of consequences, and no dusty +pilgrim ever longed more fiercely for a journey's end. He was glad of +the impression of sameness he had received, for it made him feel that +there would be no great changes in Terranova. + +He had learned little from the Countess during the interim, for she +had been slow in answering his frequent letters, while her own had +been brief and non-commital. They contained hardly a suggestion of +that warmth and intimacy which he had known in her presence. Her last +letter, now quite old, had added to this impression of aloofness and +rendered him somewhat timid as the time for meeting her approached. He +re-read it for the hundredth time as the train crawled out of the +city-- + +"MY DEAR FRIEND,--Your good letter was very welcome indeed, and I +thank you for your sympathetic interest in our affairs at Terranova, +but since fate has shown in so many ways that your life lies in +Louisiana, and not in Sicily, I beg of you to let things take their +course and give up any idea of returning here. There is nothing that +you can do, particularly since time has proved your fears for our +safety to be groundless. It is kind and chivalrous of you to persist +in offering to take that long journey from America, but nothing would +be gained by it, absolutely nothing, I assure you, and it would entail +a sacrifice on your part which I cannot permit. + +"Very little of interest or of encouragement had occurred here, but I +am working. I shall always work. Some day I shall succeed. Meanwhile +we talk of you and are heartened by your friendship, which seems very +close and real, despite the miles that separate us. We shall cherish +it and the memory of your loyalty to Martel. Meanwhile, you must not +feel bound by your promise to come back, which was not a promise, +after all, but merely an unselfish offer. Once again I repeat, it +would do no good, and might only disappoint you. Besides, I am hoping +that you have seen the woman of whom you told me and that she will +need you. + + "We are all well. We have made no plans. + + "Yours gratefully, MARGHERITA GININI" + +It was certainly unsatisfying, but her letters had all been of this +somewhat formal nature. She persisted, too, in referring to that +imaginary woman, and Blake regretted ever having mentioned her. If +Margherita suspected the truth, she could not help feeling his lack of +delicacy, his disloyalty to Martel, in confessing his love while the +Count was still alive; if she really believed him to be in love with +some other woman, it would necessitate sooner or later an explanation +which he dreaded. At all events, he hoped that the surprise of seeing +him unexpectedly, the knowledge that he had really crossed the world +to help her, would tend to dissipate her melancholy and restore her +old responsiveness. + +During the months of his absence the girl had never been out of his +mind, and he had striven hard to reconcile his unconquerable love for +her with the sense of his own unworthiness. His unforgivable cowardice +was a haunting shame, and the more he dwelt upon it the more +unspeakably vile he appeared in his own sight; for the Blakes were +honorable people. The family was old and cherished traditions common +to fine Southern houses; the men of his name prided themselves upon an +especially nice sense of honor, which had been conspicuous even in a +country where bravery and chivalrous regard for women are basic +ideals. Having been reared in such an atmosphere, the young man looked +upon his own behavior with almost as much surprise as chagrin. He had +always taken it for granted that if he should be confronted with peril +he would behave himself like a man. It was inexplicable that he had +failed so miserably, for he had no reason to suspect a heritage of +cowardice, and he was sound in mind and body. He loved Margherita +Ginini with all his heart and his resolution to win her was stronger +than ever, but he felt that sooner or later he would have to prove +himself as manly as Martel had been, and, having lost faith in +himself, the prospect frightened him. If she ever discovered the +truth--and such things are very hard to conceal--she would spurn him: +any self-respecting woman would do the same. + +He had forced himself to an unflinching analysis of his case, with the +result that a fresh determination came to him. He resolved to +reconstruct his whole being. If he were indeed a physical coward he +would deliberately uproot the weakness and make himself into a man. +Others had accomplished more difficult tasks, he reasoned; thieves had +made themselves into honest men, criminals had become decent. Why, +then, could not a coward school himself to become brave? It was merely +a question of will power, not so hard, perhaps, as the cure of some +drug habit. He made up his mind to attack the problem coldly, +systematically, and he swore solemnly by all his love for Margherita +that he would make himself over into a person who could not only win +but hold her. As yet there had been no opportunity of putting the plan +into operation, but he had mapped out a course. + +Terranova drowsed among the hills just as he had left it, and high up +to the right, among the trees, he saw the white walls of the castello. +As he mounted the road briskly a goat-herd, flat upon his back in the +sun, was piping some haunting air; a tinkle of bells came from the +hillside, the vines were purple with fruit. Women were busy in the +vineyards gathering their burdens and bearing them to the tubs for the +white feet of the girls who trod the vintage. + +Nearing his goal, he saw that the house had an unoccupied air, and he +found the big gates closed. Since no one appeared in answer to his +summons, he made his way around to the rear, where he discovered +Aliandro sunning himself. + +"Well, Aliandro!" he cried. "This is good weather for rheumatism." + +The old man peered up at him uncertainly, muttering: + +"The saints in heaven are smiling to-day." + +"Where are the Contessa Margherita and her aunt?" + +"They are where their business takes them, I dare say. Ma che?" + +"Gone to Messina, perhaps?" + +"Perhaps." + +"Visiting friends?" + +"Exactly." Aliandro nodded. "They are visiting friends in Messina." + +"I wish I had known; I just came from there. Will they return soon?" +Blake's hopes had been so high, his disappointment was so keen, that +he failed to notice the old man's lack of greeting and his crafty leer +as he answered: + +"Si, veramente! Soon, very soon. Within a year--five years, at the +outside." + +"What?" + +"Oh, they will return so soon as it pleases them." He chuckled as if +delighted at his own secrecy. + +Norvin said sharply: "Come, come! Don't jest with me. I have traveled +a long way to see them. I wish to know their whereabouts." + +"Then ask some one who knows. If ever I was told, I have forgotten, +Si'or. My memory goes jumping about like a kid. It is the rheumatism." +After an instant more, he queried, "You are perhaps a friend of that +thrice-blessed angel, my padrona?" + +With an exclamation of relief Norvin laid a hand upon the old fellow's +shoulder and shook him gently. + +"Have your eyes failed you, my good Aliandro?" he cried. "Don't you +recognize the American?--the Signore Blake, who came here with the +Count of Martinello? Look at me and tell me where your mistress has +gone." + +Aliandro arose and peered into his visitor's face, wagging his loose +jaws excitedly. + +"As God is my judge," he declared, finally, "I believe it is, Che Dio! +Who would have expected to see you? Yes, yes! I remember as if it were +yesterday when you came riding up with that most illustrious gentleman +who now sits in Paradise. It is a miracle that you have crossed the +seas so many times in safety." + +"So! Now tell me what I want to know." + +"They have gone." + +"Where?" + +"How do I know? Find Belisario Cardi--may he live a million years in +hell! Find him, and you will find them also." + +"You mean--" + +"Find Belisario Cardi, that most infamous of assassins. My padrona has +set out to say good morning to him. He may even now be on his way to +purgatory." + +Blake stared at the speaker, for he could not credit the words. Once +more he asked: + +"But where? Where?" + +"Where, indeed? If I had known in time where this Cardi lived I would +have knocked at his door some evening with the hilt of a knife. But he +was never twice in the same place. He has the ears of a fox. So long +as the soldiers went tramping back and forth he laughed. Then he must +have heard something--perhaps it was Aliandro whetting his blade--at +any rate he was gone in an hour, in a moment, in a second. Now I know +nothing more." + +"She took the Donna Teresa with her?" + +"Yes, squealing like a cat. She is too old to be of use, but the +Contessa could not leave her behind, I suppose." + +Norvin felt some relief at this intelligence, reflecting that +Margherita would hardly draw her aunt into an enterprise which +promised to be dangerous. As he considered the matter further he began +to doubt the truth of Aliandro's story, for the old fellow seemed half +daft. Perhaps the Countess and her aunt were merely traveling and +Aliandro had construed their trip into a journey of vengeance. He had +doubtless spent all his time meditating upon the murder of his friend +and benefactor, and that was a subject which might easily unbalance a +stronger mind. Ten months had worked a change in Blake's viewpoint. +When he left Sicily the idea of a girl's devoting her life to the +pursuit of her lover's assassins had seemed to him extravagant, yet +not wholly unnatural. Now it struck him as beyond belief that +Margherita should really do this. Aliandro was continuing: + +"It is work for young hands, Excellency. Old people grow weary and +forget, especially women. Now that Lucrezia, she is a fine child; she +can hate like the devil himself and she is as silent as a Mafioso. It +was two months ago that they went away, and that angel of gold, that +sweetest of ladies whom the saints are quarreling over, she left me +sufficient money for the balance of my days. But I will tell you +something, Excellency--a scandal to make your blood boil. She left +that money with the notary. And now, what do you think? He gives me +scarcely enough for tobacco! Once a week, sometimes oftener, I go down +to the village and whine like a beggar for what is mine. A fine man to +trust, eh? May he lie unburied! Sometimes I think I shall have to kill +him, he is so hard-hearted, but--I cannot see well enough. If you +should find him kicking in the road, however, you will know that he +brought it upon himself. You are shocked? No wonder. He is a greater +scoundrel than that Judas. Perhaps you--you are a great friend of the +family--perhaps you might force the wolf to disgorge. Eh? What do you +say? A word would do it. You will save his life in all probability." + +"Very well, I'll speak to him, and meanwhile here is something to +please you." Norvin handed the old ruffian a gold coin, greatly to his +delight. "They have been gone two months and you have had no word?" + +"Not a whisper. Once a week the notary comes up from the village to +see that all is well with the house. Many people have asked me the +same questions you asked. Some of them know me, and I know some who +think I do not. They would like to trick me into betraying the +whereabouts of the Contessa, but I lie like a lawyer and tell them +first one thing, then another. Body of Christ! I am no fool." + +When Norvin had put himself in possession of all that Aliandro knew he +retraced his steps to the village, where the notary confirmed +practically all the old man had said, but declared positively that the +Countess and her admirable aunt were traveling for pleasure. + +"What else would take them abroad?" he inquired. "Nothing! I have the +honor to look after the castello during their absence and the rents +from the land are placed in the bank at Messina." + +"When do you expect them to return?" + +"Privately, Signore, I do not expect them to return at all. That +shocking tragedy preyed upon the poor child's mind until she could no +longer endure Terranova. She is highly sensitive, you know; everything +spoke of Martel Savigno. What more natural than for her to wish never +to see it again? She consulted me once regarding a sale of all the +lands, and only last week some men came with a letter from the bank at +Messina. They were Englishmen, I believe, or perhaps Germans--I can +never tell the difference, if indeed there is any. I showed them +through the house. It would be a great loss to the village, however, +yes, and to the whole countryside, if they purchased Terranova, for +the Countess was like a ray of sunshine, like an angel's smile. And so +generous!" + +"Tell me--Cardi was never found?" + +The notary shrugged his shoulders. "As for me, I have never believed +there was such a person. Gian Narcone, yes. We all knew him, but he +has not been heard from since that terrible night which we both +remember. Now this Cardi, well, he is imaginary. If he were flesh and +blood the carabinieri would certainly have caught him--there were +enough of them. Per Baccho! You never saw the like of it. They were +thicker than flies." + +"And yet they didn't catch Narcone, and he's real enough." + +"True," acknowledged the notary, thoughtfully. "I never thought of it +in that light. Perhaps there is such a person, after all. But why has +no one ever seen him?" + +"Where is Colonel Neri?" + +"He is stationed at Messina. Perhaps he could tell you more than I." + +Dismayed, yet not entirely discouraged, by what he had learned, Blake +caught the first train back to Messina and that evening found him at +Neri's rooms. The Colonel was delighted to see him, but could tell him +little more than Aliandro or the notary. + +"Do you really believe the Countess left Sicily to travel?" Blake +asked him. + +"To you I will confess that I do not. We know better than that, you +and I. She was working constantly from the time you left for America +until her own departure, but I never knew what she discovered. That +she learned more than we did I am certain, and it is my opinion that +she found the trail of Cardi." + +"Then you're not like the others. You still believe there is such a +person?" + +"Whether he calls himself Cardi or something else makes no difference; +there has been an intelligence of a high order at work among the +Mafiosi and the banditti of this neighborhood for many years. We +learned things after you left; we were many times upon the verge of +important discoveries; but invariably we were thwarted at the last +moment by that Sicilian trait of secrecy and by some very potent +terror. We tried our best to get to the bottom of this fear I mention, +but we could not. It was more than the customary distrust and dislike +of the law; It was a lively personal dread of some man or body of men, +The fact that we have been working nearly a year now without result +would indicate that the person at the head of the organization is no +common fellow. No one dares betray him, even at the price of a +fortune. I believe him to be some man of affairs, some well-fed and +respected merchant, or banker, perhaps, the knowledge of whose +identity would cause a commotion such as Etna causes when she turns +over in her sleep." + +"That was Ricardo's belief, you remember." + +"Yes. I have many reasons for thinking he was right, but I have no +proof. Cardi may still be in Sicily, although I doubt it. Gian Narcone +has fled; that much I know." + +"Indeed?" + +"Yes! The pursuit became hot; we did not rest! I do not see, even yet, +how we failed to capture him. We apprehended a number whom we know +were in the band, although we have no evidence connecting them with +that particular outrage. I think we will convict them for something or +other, however; at any rate, we have broken up this gang, even though +we have lost the two men we most desired. Narcone went to Naples. He +may be there now, he may be in any part of Italy, or he may even be in +your own America, for all I know. And this mysterious Cardi is +probably with him. It is my hope that we have frightened them off the +island for all time." + +"And sent them to my country! Thanks! We're having trouble enough with +our own Italians, as it is." + +"You at least have more room than we. But now, before we go further, +you must tell me about yourself, about your mother--" + +Norvin shook his head gravely. "I arrived in time to see her, to be +with her at the last, that is all." + +"I am indeed full of sympathy," said Neri. "It is no wonder you could +not return to Sicily as soon as you had planned." + +"Everything conspired to hold me back. There were many things that +needed attention, for her affairs had become badly mixed and required +a strong hand to straighten them out. Yet all the time I knew I was +needed here; I knew the Countess was in want of some one to lean upon. +I came at the first opportunity, but--it seems I am too late. I am +afraid, Neri--afraid for her. God knows what she may do." + +"God knows!" agreed the soldier. "I pleaded with her; I tried to +argue." + +"But surely she can't absolutely disappear in this fashion. She will +have to make herself known sooner or later." + +"I'm not so certain. Her affairs are in good shape and Terranova is +for sale." + +"Doesn't the bank know her whereabouts?" + +"If so, she has instructed them to conceal it." + +"Nevertheless I shall go there in the morning and also to her cousins. +Will you help me?" + +"Of course!" Neri regarded the young man curiously for an instant, +then said, "You will pardon this question, I hope, but since she has +taken such pains to conceal herself, do you think it wise to--to--" + +"To force myself upon her? I don't know whether it is wise or foolish; +all I know is that I must find her. I must!" Blake met the older man's +eyes and his own were filled with a great trouble. "You told me once +that revenge and hatred are bad companions for a woman and that it +would be a great pity if Margherita Ginini did not allow herself to +love and be loved. I think you were right. I'm afraid to let her +follow this quest of hers; it may lead her into something--very bad, +for she has unlimited capabilities for good or evil. I had hoped to-- +to show her that God had willed her to be happy. You see, Neri, I +loved her even when Martel was alive." + +The Colonel nodded. "I guessed as much. All men love her, and there +lies her danger. I love her, also, Signore. I have always loved her, +even though I am old enough to be her father, and I would give my life +to see her--well, to see her your wife. You understand me? I would +help you find her if I could, but I am a soldier. I am chained to my +post. I am poor." + +"Jove! You're mighty decent," said the American with an odd +breathlessness. "But do you think she could ever forget Martel?" + +"She is not yet twenty." + +"Do you think there is any possibility of my winning her? I thought so +once, but lately I have been terribly doubtful." + +"I should say it will depend largely upon your finding her. We are not +the only good men who will love her. They sailed from here to Naples +on the trail of Narcone; that much I believe is reasonably certain. I +will give you a letter to the police there, and they will help you. It +is possible that we excite ourselves unduly; perhaps you will have no +difficulty whatever in locating her, but in the mean time we will do +well to talk with her relatives and with the officials of the bank. I +look for little help from those quarters, however." + +Colonel Neri's misgivings were well founded, as the following day +proved. At the bank nothing definite was known as to the whereabouts +of the Countess. She had left instructions for the rents to be +collected until Terranova was sold and then for all moneys to be held +until she advised further. Her cousins were under the impression that +she had taken her aunt to northern Italy for a change of climate and +believed that she could be found in the mountains somewhere. Blake was +not long in discovering that while the relations between the two +branches of the family were maintained with an outward show of +cordiality they were really not of the closest. Neri told him, as a +matter of fact, that Margherita had always considered these people +covetous and untrustworthy. + +Having exhausted the clues at Messina, Norvin hastened to Naples and +there took up his inquiry. He presented his letter, but the police +could find no trace of the women and finally told him that they must +have passed through the city without stopping, perhaps on their way to +Rome. So to Rome he went, and there met a similar discouragement. By +now he was growing alarmed, for it seemed incredible that a woman so +conspicuous and so well known as the Countess of Terranova should be +so hard to find unless she had taken unusual pains to hide her +identity. If such were the case the search promised many difficulties. +Nevertheless, he set about it energetically, sparing no expense and +yet preserving a certain caution in order not to embarrass the +Countess. He reasoned that if Cardi and Narcone had fled their own +island they would be unlikely to seek an utterly foreign land, but +would probably go where their own tongue was spoken; hence the +Countess was doubtless in one of the Italian cities. When several +weeks had been spent without result the young man widened the scope of +his efforts and appealed to the police of all the principal cities of +southern Europe. + +Two months had crept by before word came from Colonel Neri which put +an end to his futile campaign. The bank, it seemed, had received a +letter from the Countess written in New York. It was merely a request +to perform certain duties and contained no return address, but it sent +Norvin Blake homeward on the first ship. Now that he knew that the +girl was in his own country he felt his hopes revive. It seemed very +natural, after all, that she should be there instead of in Europe, for +Cardi and his lieutenant, having found Sicily too hot to hold them, +had doubtless joined the tide of Italian emigration to America, that +land of freedom and riches whither all the scum of Europe was +floating. Why should they turn to Italy, the mother country, when the +criminals of Europe were flocking across the westward ocean to a +richer field which offered little chance of identification? It seemed +certain now that Margherita had taken up the work in earnest; nothing +less would have drawn her to the United States. Blake gave up his last +lingering doubt regarding her intentions, but he vowed that if her +resolve were firm, his should be firmer; if her life held nothing but +thoughts of Martel, his held nothing but thoughts of her; if she were +determined to hide herself, he was equally determined to find her, and +he would keep searching until he had done so. The hunt began to obsess +him; he obeyed but one idea, beheld but one image; and he cherished +the illusion that once he had overtaken her his task would be +completed. Only upon rare occasions did he realize that the girl was +still unwon--perhaps beyond his power to win. He chose to trust his +heart rather than his reason, and in truth something deep within him +gave assurance that she was waiting, that she needed him and would +welcome his coming. + + + + +VIII + +OLD TRAILS + + + +Mr. Bernard Dreux was regarded by his friends rather as an institution +than as an individual. He was a small man, but he wore the dignity of +a senator, and he possessed a pride of that intense and fastidious +sort which is rarely encountered outside the oldest Southern families. +He was thin, with the delicate, bird-like mannerisms of a dyspeptic, +and although he was nearing fifty he cultivated all the airs and +graces of beardless youth. His feet were small and highly arched, his +hands were sensitive and colorless. He was an authority on art, he +dabbled in music, and he had once been a lavish entertainer--that was +in the early days when he had been a social leader. Now, although +harassed by a lack of money which he considered degrading, he still +mingled in good society, he still dressed elegantly, his hands were +still white and sensitive, contrasting a little with his conscience, +which had become slightly discolored and calloused. He no longer +entertained, however, except by his wit; he exercised a watchful +solicitude over his slender wardrobe, and his revenues were derived +from sources so uncertain that he seemed to maintain his outwardly +placid existence only through a series of lucky chances. But adversity +had not soured Mr. Dreux; it had not dimmed his pride nor coarsened +his appreciation of beauty; he remained the gentle, suave, and +agreeably cynical beau. Young girls had been known to rave over him, +despite their mother's frowns; fathers and brothers called him Bernie +and greeted him warmly--at their clubs. + +But aside from Mr. Dreux's inherited right to social recognition he +was marked by another and peculiar distinction in that he was the +half-brother and guardian of Myra Nell Warren. This fact alone would +have assured him a wide acquaintance and a degree of popularity +without regard to his personal characteristics. + +While it was generally known that old Captain Warren, during a short +and riotous life, had dashed through the Dreux fortune at a tremendous +rate, very few people realized what an utter financial wreck he had +left for the two children. There had been barely enough for them to +live upon after his death, and inasmuch as Myra Nell's extravagance +steadily increased as the income diminished, her half-brother was +always hard pressed to keep up appearances. She was a great +responsibility upon the little man's shoulders, particularly since she +managed in all innocence and thoughtlessness to spend not only her own +share of the income, but his also. He was many times upon the point of +remonstrating with her, but invariably his courage failed him and he +ended by planning some additional self-sacrifice to offset her +expanding necessities. + +The situation would have been far simpler had Bernie lacked that +particular inborn pride which forbade him to seek employment. Not that +he felt himself above work, but he recoiled from any occupation which +did not carry with it a dignity matching that of his name. Since the +name he bore was as highly honored as any in the State, and since his +capabilities for earning a living were not greater than those of an +eighteen-year-old boy, he was obliged to rely upon his wits. And his +wits had become uncommonly keen. + +The winter climate of New Orleans drew thither a stream of Northern +tourists, and upon these strangers Mr. Dreux, in a gentlemanly manner, +exercised his versatile talents. He made friends easily, he knew +everybody and everything, and, being a man of leisure, his time +was at the command of those travelers who were fortunate enough to +meet him. He understood the good points of each and every little cafe +in the foreign quarters; he could order a dinner with the rarest +taste; it was due largely to him that the fame of the Ramos gin-fizz +and the Sazerac cocktail became national. His grandfather, General +Dreux, had drunk at the old Absinthe House with no less a person that +Lafitte, the pirate, and had frequented the house on Royal Street when +Lafayette and Marechal Ney were there. It was in this house, indeed, +that he had met Louis Philippe. His grandson had such a wealth of +intimate detail at his finger tips that it was a great pleasure and +privilege to go through the French quarter with him. He exhaled the +atmosphere of Southern aristocracy which is so agreeable to Northern +sensibilities, he told inimitable stories, and, as for antiques, he +knew every shop and bargain in the city. He was liberal, moreover, +nay, ingenuous in sharing this knowledge with his new-found friends, +even while admitting that he coveted certain of these bargains for his +own slender collection. As a result of Mr. Dreux's knack of making +friends and his intimate knowledge of art he did a very good business +in antiques. Many of his acquaintances wrote him from time to time, +asking him to execute commissions, which he was ever willing to do, +gratuitously, of course. In this way he was able to bridge over the +dull summer season and live without any unpleasant sacrifice of +dignity. But it was at best a precarious means of livelihood and one +which he privately detested. However, on the particular day in the +summer of 1890 on which we first encounter him Mr. Dreux was well +contented, for a lumber-man from Minneapolis, who had come South with +no appreciation whatever of Colonial antiques, had just departed with +enough worm-eaten furniture to stock a museum, and Bernie had +collected his regular commission from the dealer. + +Now that his own pressing necessities were taken care of for the +moment, he began, as usual, to plan for Myra Nell's future. This would +have required little thought or worry had she been an ordinary girl, +but that was precisely what Miss Warren was not. The beaux of New +Orleans were enthusiastically united in declaring that she was quite +the contrary, quite the most extraordinary and dazzling of creatures. +Bernie had led them to the slaughter methodically, one after another, +with hope flaming in his breast, only to be disappointed time after +time. They had merely served to increase the unhappy number which +vainly swarmed about her, and to make Bernie himself the target of her +satire. Popularity had not spoiled the girl, however; her attitude +toward marriage was very sensible beneath the surface, and Bernie's +anxious efforts at matchmaking, instead of relieving their financial +distress, merely served to keep him in the antique business. Miss +Warren loved admiration; she might be said to live on it; and she +greeted every new admirer with a bubbling gladness which was +intoxicating. But she had no appreciation of the sanctity of a +promise. She looked upon an engagement to marry in the same light as +an engagement to walk or dine, namely, as being subject to the weather +or to a prior obligation of the same sort. Bernie was too much a +gentleman to urge her into any step for which she was not ready, so he +merely sighed when he saw his plans go astray, albeit confessing to +moments of dismay as he foresaw himself growing old in the second-hand +business. But a change had occurred lately, and although no word had +passed between brother and sister, the melancholy little bachelor had +been highly gratified at certain indications he had marked. It seemed +to him that her choice, provided she really had chosen, was excellent; +for Norvin Blake was certainly very young to be the president of the +Cotton Exchange, he was free from any social entanglements, and he was +rich. Moreover, his name had as many honorable associations as +even Bernie's own. All in all, therefore, the little man was in an +agreeable frame of mind to-day as he strolled up Canal Street, nodding +here and there to his acquaintances, and turned into Blake's office. + +He entered without announcing himself, and Norvin greeted him +cordially. Bernie seldom announced himself, being one of those rare +persons who come and go unobtrusively and who interrupt important +conversations without offense. + +"Do I find you busy?" he inquired, dropping into one of Blake's +easy-chairs and lighting a perfumed cigarette. + +"No. Business is over for the day. But I am glad to see you at any +time; you're so refreshingly restful." + +"How are the new duties and responsibilities coming on?" + +"Oh, very well," said Blake, "Although I'm absurdly self-conscious." + +"The Exchange needed new blood, I'm told. I think you are a happy +choice. Opportunity has singled you out and evidently intends to bear +you forward on her shoulders whether you wish or not. Jove! you +_have_ made strides! Let me see, you are thirty--" + +"Two! This makes me look older than I am." Norvin touched his hair, +which was gray, and Bernie nodded. + +"Funny how your hair changed so suddenly. I remember seeing you four +years ago at the Lexington races just after you returned from Europe +the second time. You were dark then. I saw you a year later and you +were gray. Did the wing of sorrow brush your brow?" + +Blake shrugged. "They say fear will turn men gray." + +Dreux laughed lightly. "Fancy! You afraid!" + +"And why not? Have you never been afraid?" + +"I? To be sure. I rather like it, too! It's invigorating--unusual. You +know there's a kind of fascination about certain emotions which are in +themselves unpleasant. But--my dear boy, you can't understand. We +were talking about you the other night at the Boston Club after your +election, and Thompson told about that affair you had with those +niggers up the State, when you were sheriff. It was quite thrilling to +hear him tell it." + +"Indeed?" + +"Oh, yes! He made you out a great hero. I never knew why you went in +for politics, or at least why, if you went in at all, you didn't try +for something worth while. You could have gone to the legislature just +as easily. But for a Blake to be sheriff! Well, it knocked us all +silly when we heard of it, and I don't understand it yet. We pictured +you locking up drunken men, serving subpoenas, and selling widows' +farms over their heads." + +"There's really more to a sheriff's duties than that." + +"So I judged from Thompson's blood-curdling tales. I felt very anaemic +and insignificant as I listened to him." + +"It doesn't hurt a gentleman to hold a minor political office, even in +a tough parish. I think men ought to try themselves out and find what +they are made of." + +"It isn't your lack of exclusiveness that strikes one; it's your +nerve." + +"Oh, that's mostly imaginary. I haven't much, really. But the truth is +I'm interested in courage. They say a man always admires the quality +in which he is naturally lacking, and wants to acquire it. I'm +interested in brave men, too; they fascinate me. I've studied them; +I've tried to analyze courage and find out what it is, where it lies, +how it is developed, and all about it, because I have, perhaps, a +rather foolish craving to be able to call myself fairly brave." + +"If you hadn't made a reputation for yourself, this sort of modesty +would convict you of cowardice," Dreux exclaimed. "It sounds very +funny, coming from you, and I think you are posing. Now with me it is +wholly different. I couldn't stand what you have; why, the sight of a +dead man would unsettle me for months and, as for risking my life or +attempting the life of a fellow creature--well, it would be a physical +impossibility. I--I'd just turn tail. You are exceptional, though you +may not know it; you're not normal. The majority of us, away back in +the woodsheds of our minds, recognize ourselves as cowards, and I +differ from the rest in that I'm brave enough to admit it." + +"How do you know you are a coward?" + +"Oh, any little thing upsets me." + +"Your people were brave enough." + +"Of course, but conditions were different in those days; we're more +advanced now. There's nothing refined about swinging sabers around +your head like a windmill and chopping off Yankee arms and legs; nor +is there anything especially artistic in two gentlemen meeting at dawn +under the oaks with shotguns loaded with scrap iron." Mr. Dreux +shuddered. "I'm tremendously glad the war is over and duels are out of +fashion." + +"Well, be thankful that antiques are not out of fashion. There is +still a profit in them, I suppose?" + +Dreux shook his head mournfully. "Not in the good stuff. I just sold +the original sword of Jean Lafitte to a man who makes preserved +tomatoes. It is the eighth in three weeks. The business in Lafitte +sabers is very fair lately. General Jackson belt-buckles are moving +well, too, not to mention plug hats worn by Jefferson Davis at his +inauguration. There was a fabulous hardwood king at the St. Charles +whom I inflamed with the beauties of marquetrie du bois. It was all +modern, of course, made in Baltimore, but I found him a genuine +Sinurette four-poster which was very fine. I also discovered a royal +Sevres vase for him, worth a small fortune, but he preferred a bath +sponge used by Louis XIV. I assured him the sponge was genuine, so he +bought a Buhl cabinet to put it in. I took the vase for Myra Nell." + +"Do you think Myra Nell would care to be Queen of the Carnival?" +Norvin inquired. + +"Care?" Bernie started forward in his chair, his eyes opened wide. +"You're--joking! Is--is there any--" He relaxed suddenly, and after an +instant's hesitation inquired, "What do you mean?" + +"I mean what I say. She can be Queen if she wishes." + +Dreux shook his head reluctantly. "She'd be delighted, of course; +she'd go mad at the prospect, but--frankly, she can't afford it." He +flushed under Blake's gaze. + +"I'm sorry, Bernie. I've been told to ask her." + +"I am very much obliged to you for the honor, and it's worth any +sacrifice, but--Lord! It is disgusting to be poor." He prodded +viciously with his cane. + +"It is a great thing for any girl to be Queen. The chance may not come +again." + +Dreux made a creditable effort to conceal his disappointment, but he +was really beside himself with chagrin. "You needn't tell me," he +said, "but there is no use of my even dreaming of it; I've figured +over the expense too often. She was Queen of Momus last year--that's +why I've had to vouch for so many Lafitte swords and Davis high hats. +If those tourists ever compare notes they'll think that old pirate +must have been a centipede or a devilfish to wield all those weapons." + +"I would like to have her accept," Blake persisted. + +Bernie Dreux glanced at the speaker quickly, feeling a warm glow +suffuse his withered body at the hint of encouragement for his private +hopes. What more natural, he reasoned, than for Blake to wish his +future wife to accept the highest social honor that New Orleans can +confer? Norvin's next words offered further encouragement, yet awoke a +very conflicting emotion. + +"In view of the circumstances, and in view of all it means to Myra +Nell, I would consider it a privilege to lend you whatever you +require. She need never know." + +Involuntarily the little bachelor flushed and drew himself up. + +"Thanks! It's very considerate of you, but--I can't accept, really." + +"Even for her sake?" + +"If I didn't know you so well, or perhaps if you didn't know us so +well, I'd resent such a proposal." + +"Nonsense! Don't be foolish." Realizing thoroughly what this sacrifice +meant to Miss Warren's half-brother, Norvin continued: "Suppose we say +nothing further about it for the time being. Perhaps you will feel +differently later." + +After a pause Dreux said: "Heaven knows where these carnivals will end +if we continue giving bigger pageants every year. It's a frightful +drain on the antique business, and I'm afraid I will have to drop out +next season. I scarcely know what to do." + +"Why don't you marry?" Blake inquired. + +"Marry?" Dreux smiled whimsically. "That lumber king had a daughter, +but she was freckled." + +"Felicite Delord isn't freckled." + +Bernie said nothing for a moment, and then inquired quietly: + +"What do you know about Felicite?" + +"All there is to know, I believe. Enough, at any rate, to realize that +you ought to marry her." + +As Dreux made no answer, he inquired, "She is willing, of course?" + +"Of course." + +"Then why don't you do it?" + +"The very fact that people--well, that I know I ought to, perhaps. +Then, too, my situation. I have certain obligations which I must live +up to." + +"Don't be forever thinking of yourself. There are others to be +considered." + +"Exactly. Myra Nell, for instance." + +"It seems to me you owe something to Felicite." + +"My dear boy, you don't talk like a--like a--" + +"Southern gentleman?" Blake smiled. "Nevertheless, Miss Delord is a +delightful little person and you can make her happy. If Myra Nell +should be Queen of the Mardi Gras it would round out her social +career. She will marry before long, no doubt, and then you will be +left with no obligations beyond those you choose to assume. Nobody +knows of your relations with Felicite." + +"_You_ know," said the bachelor stiffly, "and therefore others +must know, hence it is quite impossible. I'd prefer not to discuss it +if you don't mind." + +"Certainly. I want you to keep that loan in mind, however. I think you +owe it to your sister to accept. At any rate, I am glad we had this +opportunity of speaking frankly." + +"Ah," said Bernie, suddenly, as if seizing with relief upon a chance +to end the discussion, "I think I heard some one in the outer office." + +"To be sure," exclaimed Blake. "That must be Donnelly. I had an +appointment with him here which I'd forgotten all about." + +"The Chief of Police? He's quite a friend of yours." + +"Yes, we met while I was sheriff. He's a remarkably able officer--one +of those men I like to study." + +"Well, then, I'll be going," said Bernie, rising. + +"No, stay and meet him." Blake rose to greet a tall, angular man of +about Dreux's age, who came in without knocking. Chief Donnelly had an +impassive face, into which was set a pair of those peculiar smoky-blue +eyes which have become familiar upon our frontiers. He acknowledged +his introduction to Bernie quietly, and measured the little man +curiously. + +"Mr. Dreux is a friend of mine, and he was anxious to meet you, so I +asked him to stay," Norvin explained. + +"If I'm not intruding," Bernie said. + +"Oh, there's nothing much on my mind," the Chief declared. "I've come +in for some information which I don't believe Blake can give me." To +Norvin he said, "I remembered hearing that you'd been to Italy, so I +thought you might help me out." + +Mr. Dreux sat back, eliminated himself from the conversation in his +own effective manner, and regarded the officer as a mouse might gaze +upon a lion. + +"Yes, but that was four years ago," Norvin replied. + +"All the better. Were you ever in Sicily?" + +Blake started. The sudden mention of Sicily was like a touch upon an +exposed nerve. + +"I was in Sicily twice," he said, slowly. + +"Then perhaps you can help me, after all. I recalled some sort of +experience you had over there with the Mafia, and took a chance." + +The Chief drew from his pocket a note-book which he consulted. "Did +you ever hear of a Sicilian named--Narcone? Gian Narcone?" He looked +up to see that his friend's face had gone colorless. + +Blake nodded silently. + +"Also a chap named--some nobleman--" He turned again to his +memorandum-book. + +"Martel Savigno, Count of Martinello," Norvin supplied in a strained, +breathless voice. + +"That's him! Why, you must know all about this affair." + +Blake rose and began to pace his office while the others watched him +curiously, amazed at his agitated manner and his evident effort to +control his features. Neither of his two friends had deemed him +capable of such an exhibition of feeling. + +As a matter of fact, Norvin had grown to pride himself upon his +physical self-command and above all upon his impassivity of +countenance. He had cultivated it purposely, for it formed a part of +his later training--what he chose to call his course in courage. But +this sudden probing of an old wound, this unexpected reference to the +most painful part of his life, had found him off his guard and with +his nerves loose. + +After his return from Europe he had set himself vigorously to the task +of uprooting his cowardice. Realizing that his parish had always been +lawless, it occurred to him that the office of sheriff would compel an +exercise of whatever courage he had in him. It had been absurdly easy +to win the election, but afterward--the memory of the bitter fight +which followed often made him cringe. Strangely enough, his theory had +not worked out. He found that his cowardice was not a sick spot which +could be cauterized or cut out, but rather that it was like some humor +of the blood, or something ingrained in the very structure of his +nervous tissue. But although his lack of physical courage seemed +constitutional and incurable, he had a great and splendid pride which +enabled him to conceal his weakness from the world. Time and again he +had balked, had shied like a frightened horse; time and again he had +roweled himself with cruel spurs and ridden down his unruly terrors by +force of will. But the struggle had burned him out, had calcined his +youth, had grayed his hair, and left him old and tired. Even now, when +he had begun to consider his self-mastery complete, it had required no +more than the unexpected mention of Martel Savigno's name and that of +his murderer to awaken pangs of poignant distress, the signs of which +he could not altogether conceal. + +When after an interval of several minutes he felt that he had himself +sufficiently in hand to talk without danger of self-betrayal, he +seated himself and inquired: + +"What do you wish to know about--the Count of Martinello and Narcone +the bandit?" + +"I want to know all there is," said Donnelly. "Perhaps we can get at +it quicker if you will tell me what you know. I had no idea you were +familiar with the case. It's remarkable how these old trails recross." + +"I--I know everything about the murder of Martel Savigno, for I saw +it. I was there. He was my best friend. That is the story of which you +read. That is why the mention of his name upset me, even after nearly +five years." + +Bernie Dreux uttered an exclamation and hitched forward in his chair. +This new side of Blake's character fascinated him. + +"If you will tell me the circumstances it will help me piece out my +record," said the Chief, so Blake began reluctantly, hesitatingly, +giving the facts clearly, but with a constraint that bore witness to +his pain in the recital. + +When he had finished, it was Donnelly's turn to show surprise. + +"That is remarkable!" he exclaimed. "To think that you have seen Gian +Narcone! D'you suppose you would know him again after four years?" He +shot a keen glance at his friend. + +"I am quite sure I would. But come, you haven't told me anything yet." + +"Well, Narcone is in New Orleans." + +"What?" Blake leaned forward in his chair, his eyes blazing. + +"At least I'm informed that he is. I received a letter some time ago +containing most of the information you've just given me, and stating +that there are extradition papers for him in New York. The letter says +that some of his old gang have confessed to their part in the murder +and have implicated Narcone so strongly that he will hang if they can +get him back to Sicily." + +"I believe that. But who is your informant?" + +"I don't know. The letter is anonymous." + +A sudden wild hope sprang up in Blake's mind. He dared not trust it, +yet it clamored for credence. + +"Was it written by a--woman?" he queried, tensely. + +"No; at least I don't think so. It was written on one of these new-fangled +typewriting machines. I left it at the office, or you could judge for +yourself." + +"If it is typewritten, how do you know whether--" + +"I tell you I don't know. But I can guess pretty closely. It was one +of the Pallozzo gang. This Narcone--he calls himself Vito Sabella, by +the way--is a leader of the Quatrones. The two factions have been at +war lately and some member of the Pallozzo outfit has turned him up." + +The light died out of Norvin's face, his body relaxed. He had followed +so many clues, his quest had been so long and fruitless, that he met +disappointment half-way. + +Up to this moment Bernie Dreux had listened without a word or +movement, but now he stirred and inquired, hesitatingly: + +"Pardon me, but what is this Pallozzo gang and who are the Quatrones? +I'm tremendously interested in this affair." + +"The Pallozzos and the Quatrones," Donnelly explained, "are two +Italian gangs which have come into rivalry over the fruit business. +They unload the ships, you know, and they have clashed several times. +You probably heard about their last mix-up--one man killed and four +wounded." + +"I never read about such things," Dreux acknowledged, at which the +Chief's eyes twinkled and once more wandered over the little man's +immaculate figure. + +"You are familiar with our Italian problem, aren't you?" + +"I--I'm afraid not. I know we have a large foreign population in the +city--in fact, I spend much of my time on the other side of Canal +Street--but I didn't know there was any particular problem." + +"Well, there is, and a very serious one, too," Blake assured him. +"It's giving our friend Donnelly and the rest of the city officials +trouble enough and to spare. There have been some eighty killings in +the Italian quarter." + +"Eighty-four," said Donnelly. "And about two hundred outrages of one +sort or another." + +"And almost no convictions. Am I right?" + +"You are. We can't do a thing with them. They are a law to themselves, +and they ignore us and ours absolutely. It's getting worse, too. Fine +situation to exist in the midst of a law-abiding American community, +isn't it?" Donnelly appealed to Dreux. + +"Now that will show you how little a person may know of his own home," +reflected Bernie. "Has it anything to do with this Mafia we hear so +much about?" + +"It has. But the Mafia is going to end," Donnelly announced +positively. "I've gone on record to that effect. If those dagos can't +obey our laws, they'll have to pull their freight. It's up to me to +put a finish to this state of affairs or acknowledge I'm a poor +official and don't know my business. The reform crowd has seized upon +it as a weapon to put me out of office, claiming that I've sold out to +the Italians and don't want to run 'em down, so I've got to do +something to show I'm not asleep on my beat. I've never had a chance +before, but now I'm going after this Vito Sabella and land him. Will +you look him over, Norvin, and see if he's the right party?" + +"Of course. I owe Narcone a visit and I'm glad of this chance. But +granting that he is Narcone, how can you get him out of New Orleans? +He'll fight extradition and the Quatrones will support him." + +"I'm blamed if I know. I'll have to figure that out," said the Chief +as he rose to go. "I'm mighty glad I had that hunch to come and see +you, and I wish you were a plain-clothes man instead of the president +of the Cotton Exchange. I think you and I could clean out this Mafia +and make the town fit for a white man to live in. If you'll drop in on +me at eight o'clock to-night we'll walk over toward St. Phillip Street +and perhaps get a look at your old friend Narcone. If you care to come +along, Mr. Dreux, I'd be glad to have you." + +Bernie Dreux threw up his shapely hands in hasty refusal. "Oh dear, +no!" he protested. "I haven't lost any Italian murderers. This +expedition, which you're planning so lightly, may lead to--Heaven +knows what. At any rate, I should only be in the way, so if it's quite +the same to you I'll send regrets." + +"Quite the same," Donnelly laughed, then to Norvin: "If you think this +dago may recognize you, you'd better tote a gun. At eight, then." + +"At eight," agreed Blake and escorted him to the door. + + + + +IX + +"ONE WHO KNOWS" + + + +Norvin Blake dined at his club that evening, returning to his office +at about half-past seven. He was relieved to find the place deserted, +for he desired an opportunity to think undisturbed. Although this +unforeseen twist of events had seemed remarkable, at first, he began +to feel that he had been unconsciously waiting for this very hour. +Something had always forewarned him that a time would come when he +would be forced to take a hand once more in that old affair. Nor was +he so much disturbed by the knowledge that Narcone, the butcher, was +here in New Orleans as by the memories and regrets which the news +aroused. + +Entering his private office, he lit the gas, and flinging himself into +an easy-chair, gave himself over to recollections of all that the last +four years had brought forth. It seemed only yesterday that he had +returned from Italy, hot upon the scent which Colonel Neri had +uncovered for him. He had been confident, eager, hopeful, yet he had +failed, signally, unaccountably. He had combed New York City for a +trace of Margherita Ginini with a thoroughness that left no possible +means untried. As he looked back upon it now, he wondered if he could +ever summon sufficient enthusiasm to attack any other project with a +similar determination. He doubted it. Later experience had bred in him +a peculiar caution, a shrinking hesitancy at exposing his true +feelings, due, no doubt, to that ever-present necessity of watching +himself. + +Margherita had never written him after her first disappearance; his +own letters had been returned from Sicily; the police of New York had +failed as those of Rome and Naples and other cities had failed. He had +wasted a small fortune in the hire of private detectives. At last, +when it was too late to profit him, he had learned that the three +women had been in New York at the time of his arrival, but evidently +they had become alarmed at his pursuit and fled. It was this which had +forced him to give up--the certainty that Margherita knew the motive +of his search and resented it. He had never quite recovered from the +sting of that discovery, for he was proud, but he had grown too wise +to cherish unjust resentment. It merely struck him as a great pity +that their lives had fallen out in such unhappy fashion. He never +tried to deceive himself into believing that he could forget her, +become a new man, and banish the joy and the pain of his past, +impartially. There were other women, it is true, who attracted him +strongly, aroused his tenderness and appealed to his manhood--and +among them Myra Nell Warren. His power of feeling had not been +atrophied, rather it had become deeper. Yet his loyalty was never +really impaired. In the bottom of his heart he knew that that tawny, +slumbrous yet passionate Sicilian girl was his first and his most +sacred love. + +As he sat alone now, with the evidences of his accomplishment about +him, he realized that in spite of his material success, life, so far, +at least, had been just as stale and flat as it had promised to be on +that night when he and Martel had ridden away from the feast at +Terranova. He had made good, to his own satisfaction, in all respects +save one, and even in that he had gained the form if not the +substance, for the world regarded him as a man of proven courage. It +seemed to him a grim and hideous joke, and he wondered what his +friends would think if they knew that the very commonplace adventure +planned for this evening filled him with a cringing horror. The +prospect of this trip into the Italian quarter with the probability of +encountering Narcone turned him cold and sick. His hands were like ice +and the muscles of his back were twitching nervously; he could feel +his heart pound as he let his thoughts have free play. But these +symptoms were only too familiar; he had conquered them too many times +to think of weakening. + +After five years of intimate self-study he was still at a loss to +account for his phenomenal cowardice. He wondered again to-night if it +might not be the result of a too powerful imagination. Donnelly had no +imagination whatever, and the same seemed true of others whom he had +studied. As for himself, his fancies took alarm at the slightest hint +and went careering off into all the dark byways of supposition, +encountering impossible shapes and improbable dangers. Whatever the +cause, he had long since given up hope of ever winning a permanent +victory over himself and had learned that each trial meant a fresh +battle. + +When he saw by the clock that the hour of his appointment had come, he +arose, although his body seemed to belong to some one else and his +spirit was crying out a mad, panicky warning. He opened the drawer of +his desk and, extracting a revolver, raised it at arm's-length. He +drew it down before his eye until the sights crept into alignment, and +held it there for a throbbing second. Then he smiled mirthlessly, for +his hand had not shown the slightest tremor. + +Donnelly was waiting as Blake walked into headquarters, and, exhuming +a box of cigars from the remotest depths of a desk drawer, he offered +them, saying: + +"I've sent O'Connell over to reconnoiter. There's no use of our +starting out until he locates Sabella. You needn't be so suspicious of +those perfectos; they won't bite you." + +"The last one you gave me did precisely that." + +"Must have been one of my cooking cigars. I keep two kinds, one for +callers and one for friends." + +"Then if this is a Flor de Friendship I'll accept," Blake said with a +laugh. + +"I see Mr. Dreux didn't change his mind and decide to join us." + +"No, this is a little too rough for Bernie. He very cheerfully +acknowledged that he was afraid Narcone might recognize me and make +trouble." + +"I thought of that," Donnelly acknowledged. "Is there any chance?" + +In the depths of Blake's consciousness something cried out fearfully +in the affirmative, but he replied: "Hardly. He never saw me except +indistinctly, and that was nearly five years ago. He might recall my +name, but I dare say not without an introduction, which isn't +necessary." + +"Do you think you will know him?" + +"I-I have reason to think I will." + +The Chief grunted with satisfaction. + +"A funny little fellow, that Dreux!" he remarked. "Wasn't it his +father who fought a duel with Colonel Hammond from Baton Rouge?" + +"The same. They used shotguns at forty yards. Colonel Hammond was +killed." + +"Humph! And he was afraid to go with us to-night?" + +"Oh, he makes no secret of his cowardice." + +"Well, a mule is a mule, a coward is a coward, and a gambler is a-- +son-of-a-gun," paraphrased the Chief. "If he hasn't any courage he +can't force it into himself." + +"Do you think so?" + +"I know so. I've seen it tried. Some people are born cowards and can't +help themselves. As for me, I was never troubled much that way. I +suppose you find it the same, too." + +"No. My only consolation lies in thinking it's barely possible the +other fellow may be as badly frightened as I am." + +Donnelly scoffed openly. "I never saw a man stand up better than you. +Why I've touted you as the gamest chap I ever saw. Do you remember +that dago Misetti who jumped from here into your parish when you were +sheriff?" + +Blake smiled. "I'm not likely to forget him." + +"You walked into a gun that day when you knew he'd use it." + +"He didn't, though--at least not much. Perhaps he was as badly rattled +as I was." + +"Have it your own way," the Chief said. "But that reminds me, he's out +again." + +"Indeed! I hadn't heard." + +"You knew, of course, we couldn't convict him for that killing. We had +a perfect case, but the Mafia cleared him. Same old story--perjury, +alibis, and jury-fixing. We put him away for resisting an officer, +though; they couldn't stop us there. But they've 'sprung' him and he's +back in town again. Damn such people! With over two hundred Italian +outrages of various kinds in this city up to date, I can count the +convictions on the fingers of one hand. The rest of the country is +beginning to notice it." + +"It is a serious matter," Blake acknowledged, "and it is affecting the +business interests of the city. We see that every day." + +"If I had a free hand I'd tin-can every dago in New Orleans." + +"Nonsense! They're not all bad. The great majority of them are good, +industrious, law-abiding people. It's a comparatively small criminal +element that does the mischief." + +"You think so, eh? Well, if you held down this job for a year you'd be +ready to swear they're all blackmailers and murderers. If they're +so honest and peaceable, why don't they come out and help us run down +the malefactors?" + +"That's not their way." + +"No, you bet it isn't," Donnelly affirmed. "Things are getting worse +every day. The reformers don't have to call my attention to it; I'm +wise. So far, they have confined their operations to their own people, +but what's to prevent them from spreading out? Some day those Italians +will break over and tackle us Americans, and then there will be hell +to pay. I'll be blamed for not holding them in check. Why, you've no +idea of the completeness of their organization; it has a thousand +branches and it takes in some of their very best people. I dare say +you think this Mafia is some dago secret society with lodge-rooms and +grips and passwords and a picnic once a year. Well, I tell you--" + +"You needn't tell me anything about La Mafia," Blake interrupted, +gravely. "I know as much about it, perhaps, as you do. Something ought +to be done to choke off this flood of European criminal immigration. +Believe me, I realize what you are up against, Dan, and I know, as you +know, that La Mafia will beat you." + +"I'm damned if it will!" exploded the officer. "The policing of this +city is under my charge, and if those people want to live here among +us--" + +The telephone bell rang and Donnelly broke off to answer it. + +"Hello! Is that you, O'Connell? Good! Stick around the neighborhood. +We'll be right over." He hung up the receiver and explained: +"O'Connell has him marked out. We'd better go." + +It was not until they were well on their way that Norvin thought to +mention the letter, which he had wished to see. + +"Oh, yes, I meant to show it to you," said Donnelly. + +"But there's nothing unusual about it, except perhaps the signature." + +"I thought you said it was anonymous." + +"Well, it is; it's merely signed 'One who Knows.'" + +"Does it mention an associate of Narcone--a man named Cardi?" + +"No. Who's he?" + +"I dare say at least a hundred thousand people have asked that same +question." Briefly Norvin told what he knew of the reputed chief of +the banditti, of the terrors his name inspired in Sicily, and of his +supposed connection with the murder of Savigno. "Once or twice a year +I hear from Colonel Neri," he added, "but he informs me that Cardi has +never returned to the island, so it occurred to me that he too might +be in New Orleans." + +"It's very likely that he is, and if he was a Capo-Mafia there, he's +probably the same here. Lord! I'd like to get inside of that outfit; +I'd go through it like a sandstorm." + +By this time they had threaded the narrow thoroughfares of the old +quarter, and were nearing the vicinity of St. Phillip Street, the +heart of what Donnelly called "Dagotown." There was little to +distinguish this part of the city from that through which they had +come. There were the same dingy, wrinkled houses, with their odd +little balconies and ornamental iron galleries overhanging the +sidewalks and peering into one another's faces as if to see what their +neighbors were up to; the same queer, musty, dusty shops, dozing amid +violent foreign odors; the same open doorways and tunnel-like +entrances leading to paved courtyards at the rear. The steep roofs +were tiled and moss-grown, the pavements were of huge stone flags, set +in between seams of mud, and so unevenly placed as to make traffic +impossible save by the light of day. Alongside the walks were open +sewers, in which the foul and sluggish current was setting not toward, +but away from, the river-front. The district was peopled by shadows +and mystery; it abounded in strange sights and sounds and smells. + +At the corner of Royal and Dumaine they found O'Connell loitering in a +doorway, and with a word he directed them to a small cafe and +wine-shop in the next block. + +A moment later they pushed through swinging doors and entered. +Donnelly nodded to the white-haired Italian behind the bar and led the +way back to a vacant table against the wall, where he and Norvin +seated themselves. There were perhaps a half-dozen similar tables in +the room, at some of which men were eating. But it was late for +supper, and for the most part the occupants were either drinking or +playing cards. + +There was a momentary pause in the babble of conversation as the two +stalked boldly in, and a score of suspicious glances were leveled at +them, for the Chief was well known in the Italian quarter. The +proprietor came bustling toward the new-comers with an obsequious +smile upon his grizzled features. Taking the end of his apron he wiped +the surface of their table dry, at the same time informing Donnelly in +broken English that he was honored by the privilege of serving him. + +Donnelly ordered a bottle of wine, then drew an envelope from his +pocket and began making figures upon it, leaning forward and +addressing his companion confidentially, to the complete disregard of +his surroundings. Norvin glued his eyes upon the paper, nodding now +and then as if in agreement. Although he had taken but one hasty +glance around the cafe upon entering, he had seen a certain +heavy-muscled Sicilian whose face was only too familiar. It was +Narcone, without a doubt. Blake had seen that brutal, lust-coarsened +countenance too many times in his dreams to be mistaken, and while his +one and only glimpse had been secured in a half-light, his mind at +that instant had been so unnaturally sensitized that the photograph +remained clear and unfading. + +He could feel Narcone staring at him now, as he sat nodding to the +senseless patter of the Chief in a sort of breathless, terrifying +suspense. Would his own face recall to the fellow's mind that night in +the forest of Terranova and set his fears aflame? Blake's reason told +him that such a thing was beyond the faintest probability, yet the +flesh upon his back was crawling as if in anticipation of a knife-thrust. +Nevertheless, he lit a cigar and held the match between fingers which +did not tremble. He was fighting his usual, senseless battle, and he was +winning. When the proprietor set the bottle in front of him he filled both +glasses with a firm hand and then, still listening to Donnelly's words, he +settled back in his chair and let his eyes rove casually over the room. +He encountered Narcone's evil gaze when the glass was half-way to his +lips and returned it boldly for an instant. It filled him with an odd +satisfaction to note that not a ripple disturbed the red surface of the +wine. + +"Have you 'made' him?" Donnelly inquired under his breath. + +Blake nodded: "The tall fellow at the third table." + +"That's him, all right," agreed the Chief. "He doesn't remember you." + +"I didn't expect him to; I've changed considerably, and besides he +never saw me distinctly, as I told you before." + +"You've got the policeman's eye," declared Donnelly with enthusiasm. +"I wanted you to pick him out by yourself. We'll go, now, as soon as +we lap up this dago vinegar." + +Out in the street again, Blake heaved a sigh of relief, for even this +little harmless adventure had been a trial to his unruly nerves. + +"We'll drift past the Red Wing Club; it's a hang-out of mine and I +want to talk further with you," said Donnelly. + +They turned back towards the heart of the city, stopping a moment +while the Chief directed O'Connell to keep a close watch upon Narcone. + +The Red Wing Club was not really a club at all, but a small restaurant +which had become known for certain of its culinary specialties and had +gathered to itself a somewhat select clientele of bons vivants, who +dined there after the leisurely continental fashion. Thither the two +men betook themselves. + +"I can't see what real good those extradition papers are going to do +you, even now that you're sure of your man," said Norvin as soon as +they were seated. "It won't be difficult to arrest him, but to +extradite him will prove quite another matter. I'm not eager myself to +take the stand against him, for obvious reasons." Donnelly nodded his +appreciation. "I will do so, if necessary, of course, but my evidence +won't counterbalance all the testimony Sabella will be able to bring. +We know he's the man; his friends know it, but they'll unite to swear +he is really Vito Sabella, a gentle, sweet soul whom they knew in +Sicily, and they'll prove he was here in America at the time Martel +Savigno was murdered. If we had him in New York, away from his +friends, it would be different; he'd go back to Sicily, and once there +he'd hang, as he deserves." + +Donnelly swore under his breath. "It's the thing I run foul of every +time I try to enforce the law against these people. But just the same +I'm going to get this fellow, somehow, for he's one of the gang that +fired into the Pallozzos and killed Tony Alto. That's another thing I +know but can't prove. What made you ask if that letter was written by +a woman? Has Sabella a sweetheart?" + +"Not to my knowledge. I--" Norvin hesitated. "No, Sabella has no +sweetheart, but Savigno had. I haven't told you much of that part of +my story. It's no use my trying to give you an idea of what kind of +woman the Countess of Terranova was, or is--you wouldn't understand. +It's enough to say that she is a woman of extraordinary +character, wholly devoted to Martel's memory, and Sicilian to the +backbone. After her lover's death, when the police had failed, she +swore to be avenged upon his murderers. I know it sounds strange, but +it didn't seem so strange to me then. I tried to reason with her, but +it was a waste of breath. When I returned to Sicily after my mother +died, Margherita--the Countess--had disappeared. I tried every means +to find her--you know, Martel left her, in a way, under my care--but I +couldn't locate her in any Italian city. Then I learned that she had +come to the United States and took up the search on this side. It's a +long story; the gist of it is simply that I looked up every +possibility, and finally gave up in despair. That was more than four +years ago. I have no idea that all this has any connection with our +present problem." + +Donnelly listened with interest, and for a time plied Blake with +shrewd questions, but at length the subject seemed to lose its +importance in his mind. + +"It's a queer coincidence," he said. "But the letter was mailed in +this city and by some one familiar with Narcone's movements up to +date. If your Countess was here you'd surely know it. This isn't New +York. Besides, women don't make good detectives; they get discouraged. +I dare say she went back to Italy long ago and is married now, with a +dozen or more little counts and countesses around her." + +"I agree with you," said Blake, "that she can't be the 'One Who +Knows.' There are too many easier explanations, and I couldn't hope--" +He checked himself. "Well, I guess I've told you about all I know. +Call on me at any time that I can be of assistance." + +He left rather abruptly, struggling with a sense of self-disgust in +that he had been led to talk of Margherita unnecessarily, yet with a +curious undercurrent of excitement running through his mood. + + + + +X + +MYRA NELL WARREN + + + +Miss Myra Nell Warren seldom commenced her toilet with that feeling +of pleasurable anticipation common to most girls of her age. Not that +she failed to appreciate her own good looks, for she did not, but +because in order to attain the desired effects she was forced to +exercise a nice discrimination which can be appreciated only by those +who have attempted to keep up appearances upon an income never equal +to one's requirements. She had many dresses, to be sure, but they were +as familiar to her as family portraits, and even among her most +blinded admirers they had been known to stir the chords of +remembrance. Then, too, they were always getting lost, for Myra Nell +had a way of scattering other things than her affections. She had +often likened her dresses to an army of Central American troops, for +mere ragged abundance in which there lay no real fighting strength. +Having been molded to fit the existing fashions in ladies' clothes, +and bred to a careless extravagance, poverty brought the girl many +complexities and worries. + +To-night, however, she was in a very happy frame of mind as she began +dressing, and Bernie, hearing her singing blithely, paused outside her +door to inquire the cause. + +"Can't you guess, stupid?" she replied. + +"Um-m! I didn't know he was coming." + +"Well, he is. And, Bernie--have you seen my white satin slippers?" + +"How in the world should I see them?" + +"It isn't them, it is just him. I've discovered one under the bed, but +the other has disappeared, gone, skedaddled. Do rummage around and +find it for me, won't you? I think it's down-stairs--" + +"My dear child," her brother began in mild exasperation, "how can it +be down-stairs--" + +The door of Myra Nell's room burst open suddenly, and a very animated +face peered around the edge at him. + +"Because I left it there, purposely. I kicked it off--it hurt. At +least I think I did, although I'm not sure. I kicked it off +somewhere." + +Miss Warren's words had a way of rushing forth head over heels, in a +glad, frolicky manner which was most delightful, although somewhat +damaging to grammar. But she was too enthusiastic to waste time on +grammar; life forever pressed her too closely to allow repose of +thought, of action, or of speech. + +"Now, don't get huffy, honey," she ran on. "If you only knew how I've-- +Oh, goody! you're going out!" + +"I was going out, but of course--" + +"Now don't be silly. He isn't coming to see you." + +Bernie exclaimed in a shocked voice: + +"Myra Nell! You know I never leave you to entertain your callers +alone. It isn't proper." + +She sighed. "It isn't proper to entertain them on one foot, like a +stork, either. Do be a dear, now, and find my slipper. I've worn +myself to the bone, I positively have, hunting for it, and I'm in +tears." + +"Very well," he said. "I'll look, but why don't you take care of your +things? The idea--" + +She pouted a pair of red lips at him, slammed the door in his face, +and began singing joyously once more. + +"What dress are you going to wear?" he called to her. + +"That white one with all the chiffon missing." + +"What has become of the chiffon?" he demanded, sternly. + +"I must have stepped on it at the dance. I--in fact, I know I did." + +"Of course you saved it?" + +"Oh, yes. But I can't find it now. If you could only--" + +"No!" he cried, firmly, and dashed down the stairs two steps at a +time. From the lower hall he called up to her, "Wear the new one, and +be sure to let me see you before he comes." + +Bernie sighed as he hung up his hat, for he had looked forward through +a dull, disappointing day to an evening with Felicite Delord. She was +expecting him--she would be greatly disappointed. He sighed a second +time, for he was far from happy. Life seemed to be one long constant +worry over money matters and Myra Nell. Being a prim, orderly man, he +intensely disliked searching for mislaid articles, but he began a +systematic hunt; for, knowing Myra Nell's peculiar irresponsibility, +he was prepared to find the missing slipper anywhere between the +hammock on the front gallery and the kitchen in the rear. However, a +full half-hour's search failed to discover it. He had been under most +of the furniture and was both hot and dusty when she came bouncing in +upon him. Miss Warren never walked nor glided nor swayed sinuously as +languorous Southern society belles are supposed to do; she romped and +bounced, and she was chattering amiably at this moment. + +"Here I am, Bunny, decked out like an empress. The new dress is a duck +and I'm ravishing--perfectly ravishing. Eh? What?" + +He wriggled out from beneath the horsehair sofa, rose, and, wiping the +perspiration from his brow, pointed with a trembling finger at her +feet. + +"There! There it is," he said in a terrible tone. "That's it on your +foot." + +"Oh, yes. I found it right after you came downstairs." She burst +out laughing at his disheveled appearance. "I forgot you were looking. +But come, admire me!" She revolved before his eyes, and he smiled +delightedly. + +In truth, Miss Warren presented a picture to bring admiration into any +eye, and although she was entirely lacking in poise and dignity, her +constant restless vivacity and the witch-like spirit of laughter that +possessed her were quite as engaging. She was a madcap, fly-away +creature whose ravishing lace was framed by an unruly mop of dark +hair, which no amount of attention could hold in place. Little dancing +curls and wisps and ringlets were forever escaping in coquettish +fashion: + +Bernie regarded her critically from head to foot, absent-mindedly +brushing from his own immaculate person the dust which bore witness to +his sister's housekeeping. In his eyes this girl was more than a +queen, she was a sort of deity, and she could do no wrong. He was by +no means an admirable man himself, but he saw in her all the virtues +which he lacked, and his simple devotion was touching. + +"You didn't comb your hair," he said, severely. + +"Oh, I did! I combed it like mad, but the hairpins pop right out," she +exclaimed. "Anyway, there weren't enough." + +"Well, I found some on the piano," he said, "so I'll fix you." + +With deft fingers he secured the stray locks which were escaping, +working as skilfully as a hair-dresser. + +"Oh, but you're a nuisance," she told him, as she accepted his aid +with the fidgety impatience of a restless boy. "They'll pop right out +again." + +"They wouldn't if you didn't jerk and flirt around--" + +"Flirt, indeed! Bunny! Bunny! What an idea!" She kissed him with a +resounding smack, squarely upon the end of his thin nose, then +flounced over to the old-fashioned haircloth sofa. + +Now, Mr. Dreux abhorred the name of Bunny, and above all things he +abominated Myra Nell's method of saluting him upon the nose, but she +only laughed at his exclamation of disgust, saying: + +"Well, well! You haven't told me how nice I look." + +"There is no possible hope for him," he acknowledged. "The gown fits +very nicely, too." + +"Chloe did it--she cut it off, and sewed on the doodads--" + +"The what?" + +"The ruffly things." Myra Nell sighed. "It's hard to make a dressmaker +out of a cook. Her soul never rises above fried chicken and light +bread, but she did pretty well this time, almost as well as--Do you +know, Bunny, you'd have made a dandy dressmaker." + +"My dear child," he said in scandalized tones, "you get more slangy +every day. It's not ladylike." + +"I know, but it gets you there quicker. Lordy! I hope he doesn't keep +me waiting until I get all wrinkled up. Why don't you go out and have +a good time? I'll entertain him." + +"You know I wouldn't leave you alone." + +She made a little laughing grimace at him and said: + +"Well, then, if you must stay, I'll keep him out on the gallery all to +myself. It's a lovely night, and, besides, the drawing-room is getting +to smell musty. Mind you, don't get into any mischief." + +She bounced up from the sofa and gave his ear a playful tweak with her +pink fingers, then danced out into the drawing-room, where she rattled +off a part of a piano selection at breakneck speed, ending in the +middle with a crash, and finally flung open the long French blinds. +The next instant he heard her swinging furiously in the hammock. + +Bernie smiled fondly, as a mother smiles, and his pinched little face +was glorified, then he sighed for a third time, as he thought of +Felicite Delord, and regretfully settled himself down to a dull and +solitary evening. The library had long since been denuded of its +valuable books, in the same way that the old frame mansion had lost +its finer furniture, piece by piece, as some whim of its mistress made +a sacrifice necessary. In consequence, about all that remained now to +afford Bernie amusement were certain works on art which had no market +value. Selecting one of these, he lit a cigarette and lost himself +among the old masters. + +When Norvin Blake came up the walk beneath the live-oak and magnolia +trees, Myra Nell met him at the top of the steps, and her cool, fresh +loveliness struck him as something extremely pleasant to look upon, +after his heated, bustling day on the Exchange. + +"Bernie's in the library feasting on Spanish masters, so if you don't +mind we'll sit out here," she told him. + +"I'll be delighted," he assured her. "In that way I may be seen and so +excite the jealousy of certain fellows who have been monopolizing you +lately." + +"A little jealousy is a good thing, so I'll help you. But--they don't +have it in them. They're as calm and placid as bayou water." + +Blake was fond of mildly teasing the girl about her popularity, +assuming, as an old friend, a whimsically injured tone. She could +never be sure how much or little his speeches meant, but, being an +outrageous little coquette herself, she seldom put much confidence in +any one's words. + +"Tell me," he went on--"I haven't seen you for a week--who are you +engaged to now?" + +"The idea! I'm never really engaged; that is, hardly ever." + +"Then there is a terrible misapprehension at large!" + +"Oh, I'm always misapprehended. Even Bernie misapprehends me; he +thinks I'm frivolous and light-minded, but I'm not. I'm really very +serious; I'm--I'm almost morose." + +He laughed at her. "You don't mean to deny you have a bewildering +train of admirers?" + +"Perhaps, but I don't like to think of them. You see, it takes years +to collect a real train of admirers, and it argues that a girl is a +fixture. That's something I won't be. I'm beginning to feel like one +of the sights of the city, such as Bernie points out to his Northern +tourists. Of course, you're the exception. I don't think we've ever +been engaged, have we?" + +"Um-m! I believe not, I don't care to be considered eccentric, +however. It isn't too late." + +"Bernie wouldn't allow it for a moment, and, besides, you're too +serious. A girl should never engage herself to a serious-minded man +unless she's really ready to--marry him." + +"How true!" + +"By the way," she chattered on, "what in the world have you done to +Bernie? He has talked nothing but Mafia and murders and vendettas ever +since he saw you the other day." + +"He told you about meeting Donnelly in my office?" + +"Yes! He's become tremendously interested in the Italian question all +at once; he reads all the papers and he haunts the foreign quarter. He +tells me we have a fearful condition of affairs here. Of course I +don't know what he's talking about, but he's very much in earnest, and +wants to help Mr. Donnelly do something or other--kill somebody, I +judge." + +"Really! I didn't suppose he cared for such things." + +"Neither did I. But your story worked him all up. Of course, I read +about _you_ long ago, and that's how I knew you were a hero. When +you returned from abroad I was simply smothered with excitement until +I met you. The _idea_ of your fighting with bandits, and all +that! But tell me, did you discover that murderer creature?" + +"Yes. We identified him." + +"Oh-h!" The girl fairly wriggled with eagerness, and he had to smile +at her as she leaned forward waiting for details. "Bernie said you +asked him to go, but he was afraid. I--I wish you'd take me the next +time. Fancy! What did he do? Was he a tall, dangerous-looking man? Did +he grind his teeth at you?" + +"No, no!" Norvin briefly explained the very ordinary happenings of his +trip with the Chief of Police, to which she listened with her usual +intensity of interest in the subject of the moment. + +"You won't have to testify against him in those what-do-you-call-'em +proceedings?" she asked as soon as he had finished. + +"Extradition?" + +"Why! Why, they'll blow you up, or do something dreadful!" + +"I suppose I'll have to. Donnelly is bent on arresting him, and I owe +something to the memory of Mattel Savigno." + +"You mustn't!" she exclaimed with a gravity quite surprising in her. +"When Bernie told me what it might lead to, it frightened me nearly to +death. He says this Mafia is a perfectly awful affair. You won't get +mixed up in it, will you? Please!" + +The girl who was speaking now was not the Myra Nell he knew; her tone +of real concern struck him very agreeably. Beneath her customary mood +of intoxication with the joy of living he had occasionally caught +fleeting glimpses of a really unusual depth of feeling, and the +thought that she was concerned for his welfare filled him with a +selfish gladness. Nevertheless, he answered her, truly: + +"I can't promise that. I rather feel that I owe it to Martel" + +"He's dead! That sounds brutal, but--" + +"I owe something also to--those he left behind." + +"You mean that Sicilian woman--that Countess. I suppose you know I'm +horribly jealous of her?" + +"I didn't know it." + +"I am. Just think of it--a real Countess, with a castle, and dozens-- +thousands of gorgeous dresses! Was she--beautiful?" + +"Very!" + +"_Don't_ say it that way. Goodness! How I hate her!" + +Miss Warren flounced back into the corner of the hammock, and Norvin +said with a laugh: + +"No wonder you have a train of suitors." + +"I've never seen a really beautiful Italian woman--except Vittoria +Fabrizi, of course." + +"Your friend, the nurse?" + +"Yes, and she's not really Italian, she's just like anybody else. She +was here to see me again this afternoon, by the way; it's her day off +at the hospital, you know. I want you to meet her. You'll fall +desperately in love." + +"Really, I'm not interested in trained nurses, and I wouldn't want you +to hate her as you hate the Countess." + +"Oh, I couldn't hate Vittoria, she's such a dear. She saved my life, +you know." + +"Nonsense! You only had a sprained ankle." + +"Yes, but it was a perfectly odious sprain. Nobody knows how I +suffered. And to think it was all Bernie's fault!" + +"How so? You fell off a horse." + +"I did not," indignantly declared Miss Warren. "I was thrown, hurled, +flung, violently projected, and then I was frightfully trampled by a +snorting steed." + +Norvin laughed heartily at this, for he knew the rickety old family +horse very well by sight, and the picture she conjured up was amusing. + +"How do you manage to blame it on Bernie?" he inquired. + +"Well, he forbade me to ride horseback, so of course I had to do it." + +"Oh, I see." + +"I fixed up a perfectly ravishing habit. I couldn't ask Bernie to buy +me one, since he refused to let me ride, so I made a skirt out of our +grand-piano cover--it was miles long, and a darling shade of green. +When it came to a hat I was stumped until I thought of Bernie's silk +one. No mother ever loved a child as he loved that hat, you know. I +twisted his evening scarf around it, and the effect was really +stunning--it floated beautifully. Babylon and I formed a picture, I +can tell you. I call the horse Babylon because he's such an old ruin. +But I don't believe any one ever rode him before; he didn't seem to +know what it was all about. He was very bony, too, and he stuck out in +places. I suppose we would have gotten along all right if I hadn't +tried to make him prance. He wouldn't do it, so I jabbed him." + +"Jabbed him?" + +Myra Nell nodded vigorously. "With my hat-pin. I didn't mean to hurt +him, but--oh my! He isn't nearly so old as we think. I suppose the +surprise did it. Anyhow, he became a raging demon in a second, and +when they picked me up I had a sprained ankle and the piano cover was +a sight." + +"I suppose Babylon ran away?" + +"No, he was standing there, with one foot right through Bernie's high +hat. That was the terrible part of it all--I had to pretend I was +nearly killed, just to take Bernie's mind off the hat. I stayed in bed +for the longest time--I was afraid to get up--and he got Vittoria +Fabrizi to wait on me. So that's how I met her. You can't linger along +with your life in a person's hands for weeks at a time without getting +attached to her. I was sorry for Babylon, so I had Chloe put a +poultice on his back where I jabbed him. Now I'd like to know if that +isn't Bernie's fault. He should have allowed me to ride and then I +wouldn't have wanted to. Poor boy! he was the one to suffer after all. +He'd planned to take a trip somewhere, but of course he couldn't do +that and pay for a trained nurse, too." + +Myra Nell's allusion to her brother's financial condition reminded +Blake of the subject which had been uppermost in his mind all evening, +and he decided to broach it now. Subsequent to his last talk with +Dreux he had thought a good deal about that proffered loan and had +come to regard Bernie's refusal as unwarranted. To be Queen of the +Carnival was an honor given to but few young women, and one that would +probably never come to Miss Warren again, so even at the risk of +offending her half-brother he had decided to lay the matter before +Myra Nell herself. She ought at least to have in later years the +consoling thought that she had once refused the royal scepter. He +hoped, however, that her persuasion added to his own would bring Dreux +to a change of heart. + +"If you'll promise to make no scene, refrain from hysterics, and all +that," he began, warningly, "I'll tell you some good news." + +"How silly! I'm an iceberg! I never get excited!" she declared. + +"Well then, how would you like to be Queen of the next Mardi Gras?" + +Myra Nell gasped faintly in the darkness, and sat bolt-upright. + +"You--you're joking." + +"That's no answer." + +"I--I--Do you mean it? Oh!" She was out of the hammock now and poised +tremblingly before him, like a bird. "Honestly? You're not fooling? +Norvin, you dear duck!" She clapped her hands together gleefully and +began to dance up and down. "I-I'm going to scream." + +"Remember your promise." + +"Oh, but Queen! Queen! Why I'm dreaming, I _must_ scream." + +"I gather from these rapt incoherences that you'd like it." + +"_Like_ it! You silly! Like it? Haven't I lived for it? Haven't I +dreamed about it ever since T was a baby? Wouldn't any girl give her +eyes to be queen?" She seemed upon the verge of kissing him, perhaps +upon the nose, but changed her mind and went dancing around his chair +like some moon-mad sprite. He seized her, barely in time to prevent +her from crying the news aloud to Bernie, explaining hastily that she +must breathe no word to any one for the time being and must first win +her brother's consent. It was very difficult to impress her with the +fact that the Carnival was still a long way off and that Bernie was +yet to be reckoned with. + +"As if there could be any question of my accepting," she chattered. +"Dear, dear! Why shouldn't I? And it was lovely of you to arrange it +for me, too. Oh, I know you did, so you needn't deny it. I hope you're +to be Rex. Wouldn't that be splendid--but of course you wouldn't tell +me." + +"I can tell you this much, that I am not to be King. Now I have +already spoken to Bernie--" + +"The wretch! He never breathed a word of it." + +"He's afraid he can't afford it." + +"Oh, la, la! He'll have to. I'll die if he refuses--just die. You know +I will." + +"We'll bring him around, between us. You talk to him after I go, and +the next time I see him I'll clinch matters. You'll make the most +gorgeous of queens, Myra Nell." + +"You think so?" She blushed prettily in the gloom. "I'll have to be +very dignified; the train is as long as a hall carpet and I'll have to +walk this way." She illustrated the royal step, bowing to him with a +regal inclination of her dark head, and then broke out into rippling +life and laughter so infectious that he felt he was a boy once more. + +The girl's unaffected spontaneity was her most adorable trait. She was +like a dancing ray of sunshine, and underneath her blithesome +carelessness was a fine, clean, tender nature. Blake watched her with +his eyes alight, for all men loved Myra Nell Warren and it was +conceded among those who worshiped at her shrine that he who finally +received her love in return for his would be favored far above his +kind. She was closer to him to-night than ever before; she seemed to +reach out and take him into her warm confidence, while he felt her +appeal more strongly than at any time in their acquaintance. Of course +she did not let him do much talking, she never did that, and now her +head was full of dreams, of delirious anticipations, of splendid +visions. + +At last, when she had thanked him in as many ways as she could think +of for his kindness and the time drew near for him to leave, she fell +serious in a most abrupt manner, and then to his great surprise +referred once again to his affair with the Mafia. + +"It seems to me that my joy would be supreme to-night if I knew you +would drop that Italian matter," she said. "The consequences may be +terrible and--I--don't want you to get into trouble." + +"I'll be careful," he told her, but as she stood with her hand in his +she looked up at him with eyes which were no longer sparkling with +fun, but deep and dark with shadows, saying, gently: + +"Is there nothing which would induce you to change your mind?" + +"That's not a fair question." + +"I shall be worried to death--and I detest worry." + +"There's no necessity for the least bit of concern," he assured her. +But there was a plaintive wrinkle upon her brow as she watched him +swing down the walk to the street. + +As Blake strolled homeward he began to reflect that this charming +intimacy with Myra Nell Warren could not go much farther without doing +her an injustice. The time was rapidly nearing when he would have to +make up his mind either to have very much more or very much less of +her society. He was undeniably fond of her, for she not only +interested him, but, what is far rarer and quite as important, she +amused him. Moreover, she was of his own people; the very music of her +Southern speech soothed his ear in contrast with the harsh accents of +his Northern acquaintances. The thought came to him with a profound +appeal that she might grow to love him with that unswerving +faithfulness which distinguishes the Southern woman. And yet, +strangely enough, when he retired that night it was not with her +picture in his mind, but that of a splendid, tawny Sicilian girl with +lips as fresh as a half-opened flower and eyes as deep as the sea. + + + + +XI + +THE KIDNAPPING + + + +Bernie Dreux appeared at Blake's office on the following afternoon +with a sour look upon his face. Norvin had known he would come, but +hardly expected Myra Nell to win her victory so easily. Without +waiting for the little man to speak, he began: + +"I know what you're here for and I know just what you're going to tell +me, so proceed; run me through with your reproaches; I offer no +resistance." + +"Do you think you acted very decently?" Dreux inquired. + +"My dear Bernie, a crown was at stake." + +"A crown of thorns for me. It means bankruptcy." + +"Then you have consented? Good! I knew you would." + +"Of course you knew I would; that's what makes your trick so +abominable. I didn't think it of you." + +"That's because you don't know my depravity; few people do." + +"It would serve you right if I accepted your loan and never paid you +back." + +"It would indeed." Blake laughingly laid his hand upon his friend's +shoulder. "What's more, that is exactly what I would do in your place. +I'd borrow all I could and give my sister her one supreme hour, free +from all disturbing fears and embarrassments; then I'd tell the +impertinent meddler who was to blame for my trouble to go whistle for +his satisfaction. Of course Miss Myra Nell doesn't suspect?" + +"Oh, Heaven forbid!" piously exclaimed Dreuix. + +"Now how much will you need?" + +"I don't know; some fabulous sum. There will be gowns, and luncheons, +and carriages, and entertaining. I will have to figure it out." + +"Do. Then double it. And thanks awfully for coming to your senses." + +"That's just the point--I haven't come to them, I'm perfectly insane +to consider it," Bernie declared, savagely. "But what can I do when +she looks at me with her eyes like stars and--and--" He waved his +hands hopelessly. "It's mighty decent of you, but understand I +consider it a dastardly trick and I'm horribly offended." + +"Exactly, and I don't blame you, but your sister deserves a crown for +her royal gift of youth and sweetness. As for being offended, since +you are not one of the Mafia, I am not afraid." + +"Do you know," said Bernie, "I have been thinking about this Mafia +matter ever since I saw you. I'm tremendously interested and I--I'm +beginning to feel the dawning of a civic spirit. Remarkable, eh? You +know I haven't many interests, and I'd like to--to take a hand in +running down these miscreants. I've always had an ambition, ever since +I was a child, to be a--Don't laugh now. This is a confession. I've +always wanted to be a--detective." He looked very grave, and at the +same time a little shamefaced. "Do you suppose Donnelly could make me +one?" + +"Well! This is rather startling," said Blake, with difficulty +restraining a desire to laugh. + +"I--I can wear disguises wonderfully well," Bernie went on, wistfully. +"I learned when I was in college theatricals. I was really very good. +And you see I might earn a lot of money that way; I understand there +are tremendous rewards offered for train-robbers and that sort of +people. No one need know, of course, and no one would ever suspect me +of being a minion of the law." + +"That's true enough. But I'm afraid detectives in real life don't wear +false beards. It's a pretty mean occupation, I fancy. Do you seriously +think you are--er--fitted for it?" + +"Heavens! I'm no good at anything else, and I'm perfectly wonderful at +worming secrets out of people. This Mafia matter would give me a great +opportunity. I--think I'll try it." + +"These Italians have no sense of humor, you know. Something +disagreeable might happen if you went prowling around them." + +"Oh, of course I'd quit if they discovered my intentions--my game. +When we were talking of such things, the other day, I said I was a +coward, but really I'm not. I've a frightful temper when I'm roused-- +really fiendish. As a matter of fact, I've"--he smiled sheepishly and +tapped his slender, high-arched foot with his rattan cane--"I've +already begun." + +Blake settled back in his chair without a word. + +"I'm taking Italian lessons from Myra Nell's nurse, Miss Fabrizi. +She's a very superior woman, for a nurse, and she knows all about the +Mafia. Quite an inspiration, I call it, thinking of her. I'm working +her for informa--for a clue." He winked one eye gravely, and Norvin +gasped. Bernie suddenly seemed very secretive, very different from his +usual self. It was the first time Blake had ever seen him give this +particular facial demonstration, and the effect was much as if some +benevolent old lady had winked brazenly. + +"Well!" he exclaimed. "I don't know what to say." + +"There is nothing to say," Mr. Dreux answered in a vastly self-satisfied +tone. "I'm going to offer my services to Donnelly--in confidence, of +course. I'm glad you introduced us, for otherwise I'd have to arrange to +meet him properly. If he doesn't want me, I'll proceed unaided." + +When his caller had gone Blake gave way to the hearty laughter he had +been smothering, dwelling with keen enjoyment upon the probable result +of Bernie's interview with the Chief. Dan, he was sure, would not hurt +the little man's feelings, so he felt no obligation to interfere. + +Although he was expecting to hear from Donnelly at any moment +regarding the Narcone matter, it was not until two weeks after their +nocturnal excursion to the Italian quarter that the Chief came to see +him. He brought unexpected news. + +"We've had a run of luck," he began. "I've verified the information in +that letter and found that those extradition papers for Narcone are +really in New York. What's more, there's an Italian detective there on +another matter, and he's ready to take our man back to Sicily with +him." + +"Really!" + +"Narcone, it seems, was in New York for a year before he came here; +that's why steps were taken to extradite him. Then he evidently got +suspicious and came South. Anyhow, the plank is all greased, and if we +land him in that city he'll go back to Sicily." + +"I see. All that's necessary is to invite him to run up there and be +arrested. It seems to me you're just where you were two weeks ago, +Dan; unfortunately, this doesn't happen to be New York, and you've +still got to solve the important problem of getting him there." + +"I'm going to kidnap him," said the Chief, quietly. + +"What? You're joking!" + +"Not a bit of it." + +"But--kidnapping--it isn't done any more! It's not even considered the +thing in police circles, I believe. You'll be stealing children next, +like any Mafioso." + +Donnelly grinned. "That's where I got the idea. This same Narcone is +mixed up in the Domenchino case. The kid has been gone nearly a month, +now, but the father won't help us. He made a roar at the start, but +they evidently got to him and now he declares that the boy must have +strayed away to the river-front and been drowned. Well, it occurred to +me to treat that Quatrone gang to some of its own medicine by stealing +their ringleader." + +"There's poetic justice in the idea--that is, if Narcone was really +connected with the disappearance of the child." + +"Oh, he was connected with it all right. Ordinary blackmail was +getting too slow for the outfit, so they went after a good ransom. Now +that old Domenchino has kicked up such a row, they're afraid to come +through, and have probably murdered the child. That's what he fears, +at any rate, and that's why he won't help us." + +"It's shocking! But tell me, is this plan your own, or did Bernie +Dreux suggest it?" + +Donnelly laughed silently. + +"So you knew he'd turned fly cop? I thought I'd split when he came to +me." + +"I hope you didn't offend him." + +"Oh, not at all. Those little milliners are mighty sensitive. I told +him he had the makings of another Le Coq, but the force was full. I +suggested that he work on the outside, and set him to watching a +certain dago fruit-stand on Canal Street." + +"Why that particular stand?" + +"Because it's owned by one of our men and he can't come to any harm +there. He reports every day." + +"But Narcone--Are you really in earnest about this scheme?" + +"I am. It's our only chance to land him, and I've got to accomplish +something or quit drawing my salary. Here's the layout; the Pinkertons +have an operative who knew Sabella in New York; they were friends, in +fact. This fellow arrived here two hours ago--calls himself Corte. +He's to renew his acquaintance with our man and explain that he is +returning to New York in a week. The day he sails we grab Mr. Narcone, +hustle him aboard ship, and Corte will see to the rest. If it works +right nobody'll know anything about it until Narcone is at sea, when +it will be too late for interference. It's old stuff, but it'll work." + +From what he knew of the Sicilian bandit, Blake felt a certain doubt +as to the practicability of this plan, yet he was relieved to learn +that he would not be called upon to testify. He therefore expressed +himself as gratified at the change of procedure. + +"It was partly to spare you," the Chief replied, "that I decided on +this course. I want you to help me though." + +"In what way?" + +"Well, it will naturally take some force; Narcone won't go willingly. +I want you to help me take him." + +Instantly those fears which had been lulled in Norvin's breast leaped +into turmoil; the same sick surge of emotions rose, and he felt +himself quailing. After an instant's pause he said: + +"I'll act any part you cast me for, but don't you think it is work for +trained officers like you and this Corte?" + +"That's exactly the point. Narcone may put up a fight, and I have more +confidence in you, when it comes to a pinch, than in any man I know. +Corte's job is to get him down to the dock, and I can't ask any of my +men to take a hand with me, for it's--well, not exactly regular. +Besides, I may need a witness." Donnelly hesitated. "If I do need one, +I'll want some man whose word will carry more weight than that of a +policeman. You understand?" He leveled his blue eyes at Blake and they +looked particularly smoky and cold. + +"You mean the Quatrones may try to break you?" + +"Something like that." + +"Suppose Narcone--er--resists?" + +Donnelly shrugged, "We can't very well kill him, That's what makes it +hard. I knew you had as much at stake as I, so I felt sure you'd +help." + +Blake heard himself assuring the officer that he had not been +mistaken, but it was not his own voice that reached his ears, and when +his caller had gone he found himself sitting limply in his chair, numb +with horror at his own temerity. + +As he looked back upon it, blaming himself for his too ready +agreement, he realized that several mingling emotions had been at the +root of it. In the first place, he had said "yes" because his craven +spirit had screamed "no" so loudly. He felt that the project was not +only dangerous, but impracticable, yet something, which he chose to +term his over-will, had warned him that he must not upon any account +give way to fear lest he weaken his already insecure hold upon +himself. Again, Donnelly had appealed to him in a way hard to resist. +He was not only flattered by the Chief's high regard for his courage, +but grateful to him for having relieved him of the notoriety and +possible consequences of a public proceeding. Most of all, perhaps, +his final acquiescence had been an instinctive reaction of rage and +disgust at the part of his nature that he hated. He struck at it as a +man strikes at a snake. + +But now that he was irrevocably pledged, his reason broke and fled, +leaving him a prey to his imagination. + +What, he wondered, would Narcone do when he saw his life at stake-- +when he recognized in one of his captors the man he had craved to kill +in the forest of Terranova? There would in all probability be a +physical struggle--perhaps he would find his own flabby muscles pitted +against the mighty thews of the Sicilian butcher. At the thought he +felt again the melting horror which had weakened him on that +unspeakable night when Narcone had turned from wiping the warm blood +from his hands to glare into his face. Blake feared that the memories +would return to betray him at the last moment. That would mean that he +would be left naked of the reputation he had guarded so jealously--and +a far worse calamity--that his rebellious nature would finally +triumph. One defeat, he knew, implied total overthrow. + +He tried to reason that he was magnifying the danger--that Narcone +would be easily handled, that other criminals as desperate had been +taken without a struggle, but the instant such grains of comfort +touched the healed terrors in his mind they vanished like drops of +water sprinkled upon an incandescent furnace. + +Nevertheless, he was pledged, and he knew that he would go. + +He had barely gotten himself under a semblance of control, two days +later, when Donnelly called him up by telephone to advise him in +cautious terms that affairs were nearing a climax and to warn him to +make ready. + +This served to throw him into a renewed panic. It required a +tremendous effort to concentrate upon his business affairs, and it +took the genius of an actor to carry him through the inconsequent +details of his every-day life without betrayal. Alone, at home, upon +the crowded 'Change, in deadly-dull directors' meetings, that sinister +shadow overhung him. These long, leaden hours of suspense were doing +what nothing else had been able to do since he took himself definitely +in hand. They were harder to bear than any of those disciplinary +experiences which had turned his hair white and burned his youth to an +ash. + +At last Donnelly came. + +"Corte has framed it for to-morrow," he announced with evident +satisfaction. + +"To-morrow?" Norvin echoed, faintly. + +"Yes. He's sailing on the _Philadelphia_ at eleven o'clock--no +stops between here and New York. They'll be waiting for Narcone at +Quarantine." "I'm glad--it's time to do something." + +Donnelly rubbed his palms together and showed his teeth in a smile, +"Corte says he'll have him at the Cromwell Line docks without fail, so +that will save us grabbing him on the street and holding him until +sailing time. If we pull it off quietly, at the last minute, nobody'll +know anything about it. You'd better be at my office by nine, in case +anything goes wrong." + +"You may count on me," Blake answered in a tone that gave no hint of +his inward flinching. But once alone, he found that his nerves would +not allow him to work. He closed his desk and went home. When the heat +of the afternoon diminished he took out his saddle-horse and went for +a gallop, thinking in this way to blow some of the tortured fancies +out of his mind, but he did not succeed. + +Despite his agitation, he ate a hearty dinner--much as a condemned man +devours his last meal--but he could not sleep. All night he +alternately tossed in his bed or paced his room restlessly, his +features working, his body shivering. + +He ate breakfast, however, with an apparent appetite that delighted +his colored servant, and as the clock struck nine he walked into +Donnelly's office, smoking a cigar which he did not taste. + +"I haven't heard anything further from Corte, so we'll go down to the +dock," the Chief informed him. + +On the way to the river-front, Blake continued to smoke silently, +giving a careful ear to Donnelly's final directions. When they reached +their destination he waited while Dan went aboard the ship in search +of the captain. + +In those days, rail transportation had not developed into its present +proportions, and New Orleans was even more interesting as a +shipping-point than now. Along the levee stretched rows of craft from +every port, big black ocean liners, barques and brigantines, fruit +steamers from the tropics, and a tremendous flotilla of flat-nosed river +steamers with their huge tows of barges. The cavernous sheds that +lined the embankment echoed to a thunder of rumbling trucks, of +clanking winches, of stamping hoofs, while through and above it all +came the cries and songs of a multitude of roustabouts and deck-hands. +Down the gangways of the _Philadelphia_, a thin, continuous line +of dusky truckmen was moving. A growing chaos of trunks and smaller +baggage on the dock indicated that her passenger-list was heavy. + +Blake watched the shifting scene with little interest, now and then +casting an unseeing eye over the ramparts of cotton bales near by; but +although he was outwardly calm, his palms were cold and wet and his +mind was working with a panicky swiftness. + +Donnelly reappeared with the assurance that all was arranged with the +ship's master, and, taking their stand where they could observe what +went on, they settled themselves to wait. + +Again the moments dragged. Again Blake fought his usual weary battle. +He envied Donnelly his utter impassivity, for the officer betrayed no +more feeling than as if he were standing, rod in hand, waiting for a +fish to strike. An hour passed, bringing no sign of their men, +although a stream of passengers was filing aboard and the piles of +baggage were diminishing. Norvin struggled with the desire to voice +his misgivings, which were taking the form of hopes; Donnelly chewed +tobacco, and occasionally spat accurately at a knot-hole. His +companion watched him curiously. Then, without warning, the Chief +stirred, and there in the crowd Norvin suddenly saw the tall figure of +Gian Narcone, with another man, evidently a Sicilian, beside him. + +"That's Corte," Donnelly said, quietly. + +The two watchers mingled with the crowd, gradually drawing closer to +their quarry. But it seemed that Narcone refused to go aboard with his +friend--at any rate, he made no move in that direction. The +_Philadelphia_ blew a warning blast, the remaining passengers +quickened their movements, there was but little baggage left now upon +the deck, and still the two Italians stood talking volubly. Donnelly +waited stolidly near by, never glancing at his man. Blake held himself +with an iron grip, although his heart-throbs were choking him. It was +plain that Corte also was beginning to feel the strain, and Norvin +began to fear that Donnelly would delay too long. + +At last the Pinkerton man stooped and raised his valise, then extended +his hand to the Mafioso. Donnelly edged closer. + +Blake knew that the moment for action had come, and found that without +any exercise of will-power he too was closing in. His mind was working +at such high speed that time seemed to halt and wait. Donnelly was +within arm's-length of Narcone before he spoke; then he said, quietly, +"Going to leave the city, Sabella?" + +"Eh?" The Sicilian started, his eyes leaped to the speaker, and the +smile died from his heavy features. Recognizing the officer, however, +he pulled at the visor of his cap, and said, brokenly: "No, no, +Signore. My friend goes." + +"Come, now," the Chief said, grimly. "I want you to tell me something +about the Domenchino boy." + +Narcone recoiled, colliding with Blake, who instantly locked his arm +within his own. Simultaneously Donnelly seized the other wrist, +repeating, "You know who stole the little Domenchino." + +The tension which had leaped into the giant muscles died away; Narcone +shrugged his shoulders, crying, excitedly, in his native tongue: + +"Before God you wrong me." + +It was the instant for which his captor had planned; the ruse had +worked; there was a deft movement on Donnelly's part, something +snapped metallically, and the manacles of the law were upon the +murderer of Martel Savigno. + +It had all been accomplished quietly, quickly; even those standing +near by hardly noticed it, and those who did were unaware of the +significance of the arrest. But once his man was safely ironed, the +Chief's manner changed, and in the next instant the prisoner caught, +perhaps from the eye of Corte, the stool-pigeon, some fleeting hint +that he had been betrayed. Following that came the suspicion that he +had been seized not for complicity in the Domenchino affair, but for +something far more significant. With a furious, snarling cry he flung +himself backward and raised his manacled hands to strike. + +But it was too late for effective resistance. They took him across the +gang-plank, screaming, struggling, biting like a maddened animal, +while curious passengers rushed to the rails above and stared at them, +and another crowd yelled and hooted derisively from the dock. + +A moment later they were in Corte's stateroom, panting, grim, +triumphant, with their prisoner's back against the wall and their work +done. + +Now that Narcone realized the deception that had been practised upon +him he began to curse his betrayer with incredible violence and +fluency. As yet he had no idea whither he was being taken, nor for +which of his many crimes he had been apprehended. But it seemed as if +his rage would strangle him. With the unrestraint of a lifetime of +lawlessness he poured out his passion in a terrifying rush of +vilification, anathema, and threat. He hurled himself against the +walls of the stateroom as if to burst his way out, and they were +forced to clamp leg-irons upon him. When Donnelly had regained his +breath he savagely commanded the fellow to be silent, but Narcone only +shifted his fury from his betrayer to the Chief of Police. + +To the Pinkerton operative Donnelly said, gratefully: "That was good +work, Corte. Wire me from New York. We'll have to go now, for the ship +is clearing." + +"Wait!" said Blake; then pushing himself forward, he addressed the +captive in Italian, "Where is Belisario Cardi?" + +The question came like a gunshot, silencing the outlaw as if with a +gag. His bloodshot eyes searched his questioner's face; his lips, wet +with slaver, were snarling like those of a dog, but he said nothing. + +"Where is Belisario Cardi?" came the question for a second time. + +"I do not know him," said the Sicilian, sullenly. "I am Vito Sabella, +an honest man--" + +"You are Gian Narcone, the butcher, of San Sebastiano," said Blake. +"You are going back to Sicily to be hanged for the murder of Martel +Savigno, Count of Martinello, and his man Ricardo." + +"Bah!" cried the prisoner, loudly. "I am not this Narcone of which you +speak. I do not know him. I am Vito Sabella, a poor man, I swear it by +the body of Christ. I have never seen this Cardi. God will punish +those who persecute me." + +Blake leaned forward until his face was close to Narcone's. + +"Look closely," he said. "Have you ever seen me before?" + +They stared at each other, eye to eye, and the Sicilian nodded. + +"You were drinking chianti in the cafe on Royal Street, but I swear to +you I am an innocent man and I curse those who betray me." + +"Think! Do you recall a night four years ago? You were waiting beside +the road above Terranova. There was a feast of all the country people +at the castello, and finally three men came riding upward through the +darkness. One of them was singing, for it was the eve of his marriage, +and you knew him by his voice as the Count of Martinello. Do you +remember what happened then? Think! You were called Narcone the +Butcher, and you boasted loudly of your skill with the knife as you +dried your hands upon a wisp of grass. You left two men in the road +that night, but the third returned to Terranova. I ask you again if +you have ever seen my face." + +The effect of these words was extraordinary. The fury died from the +prisoner's eyes, his coarse lips fell apart, the blood receded from +his purple cheeks, he shrank and shivered loosely. In the silence they +could hear the breath wheezing hoarsely in his throat. Blake made a +final appeal. + +"They will take you back to Sicily, to Colonel Neri and his +carbineers, and you will hang. Before it is too late, tell me, where +is Belisario Cardi?" + +Narcone moistened his livid lips and glared malignantly at his +inquisitors. But he could not be prevailed upon to speak. + +"Well, that was easy," said Donnelly, when the _Philadelphia_ had +cast off and the two friends were once more back in the rush and +bustle of the water-front. + +Norvin agreed. "And yet it seemed a bit unfair," he remarked. "There +were three of us, you know. If he were not what he is, I'd feel +somewhat ashamed of my part in the affair." Donnelly showed his +contempt for such quixotic views by an expressive grunt. "You can take +the next one single-handed, if you prefer. Perhaps it may be your +friend Cardi." + +"Perhaps," said Norvin, gravely. "If that should happen, I should feel +that I had paid my debt in full." + +"I'd like a chance to sweat Narcone," growled the Chief, regretfully. +"I'd find Cardi, or I'd--" He heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, well, +we've done a good day's work as it is. I hope the papers don't get +hold of it." + +But the papers did get hold of it, and with an effect which neither +man had anticipated. Had they foreseen the consequences of this +morning's work, had they even remotely guessed at the forces they had +unwittingly set in motion, they would have lost something of their +complacency. Throughout the greater part of the city that night the +kidnapping of Vito Sabella became the subject of excited comment. In +the neighborhood of St. Phillip Street it was received in an ominous +silence. + + + + +XII + +LA MAFIA + + + +The surprising ease with which the capture of Narcone had been +effected gratified Norvin Blake immensely, for it gave him an +opportunity to jeer at the weaker side of his nature. He told himself +that the incident went to prove what his saner judgment was forever +saying--that fear depends largely upon the power of visualization, +that danger is real only in so far as the mind sees it. Moreover, the +admiration his conduct aroused was balm to his soul. His friends +congratulated him warmly, agreeing that he and Donnelly had taken the +only practical means to rid the community of a menace. + +In our Southern and Western States, where individual character stands +for more than it does in the over-legalized communities of the North +and East, men are concerned not so much with red-tape as with effects, +and hence there was little disposition to criticize. + +Blake was amazed to discover what a strong public sentiment the +Italian outrages had awakened. New Orleans, it seemed, was not only +indignant, but alarmed. + +His self-satisfaction received a sudden shock, however, when Donnelly +strolled into his office a few days later, and without a word laid a +letter upon his desk. It ran as follows: + +DANIEL DONNELLY, Chief of Police, + + NEW ORLEANS, LA. + +DEAR SIR,--God be praised that Gian Narcone has gone to his +punishment! But you have incurred the everlasting enmity of the Mala +Vita, or what you term La Mafia, and it has been decided that your +life must pay for his. You are to be killed next Thursday night at the +Red Wing Club. I cannot name those upon whom the choice has fallen, +for that is veiled in secrecy. + +I pray that you will not ignore this warning, for if you do your blood +will rest upon, ONE WHO KNOWS. + +P. S. Destroy this letter. + +The color had receded from Norvin's face when he looked up to meet the +smoke-blue eyes of his friend. + +"God!" he exclaimed. "This--looks bad, doesn't it?" + +"You think it's on the level?" + +"Don't you?" + +Donnelly shrugged. "I'm blessed if I know. It may have come from the +very gang I'm after. It strikes me that they wanted to get rid of +Narcone, but didn't know just how to go about it, so used me for an +instrument. Now they want to scare me off." + +"But--he names the very place; the very hour." "Sure--everything +except the very dago who is to do the killing! If he knew where and +when, why wouldn't he know how and who?" + +"I--that sounds reasonable, and yet--you are not going to the Red Wing +Club any more, are you?" + +"Why not? I've got until Thursday and--I like their coffee. Here is +the other letter, by the way." Donnelly produced the first +communication. The paper was identical and the type appeared to be the +same. Beyond this Norvin could make out nothing. + +"Well," Dan exclaimed, when they had exhausted their conjectures, +"they've set their date and I reckon they won't change it, so I'm +going to eat dinner to-night at the Red Wing Club as usual, just to +see what happens." + +After a brief hesitation Norvin said, "I'd like to join you, if you +don't mind." + +Donnelly shook his gray head doubtfully. "I don't think you'd better. +This may be on the square." + +"I think it is, and therefore I intend to see you through." + +"Suit yourself, of course. I'd like to have you go along, but I don't +want to get you into any fuss." + +Seven o'clock that evening found the two friends dining at the little +cafe in the foreign quarter, but they were seated at one of the corner +tables and their backs were toward the wall. + +"I've had my reasons for eating here, and it wasn't altogether the +coffee, either," the elder man confessed. + +"I suspected as much," Norvin told him. "At least I couldn't detect +anything remarkable about this Rio." + +"You see, it's a favorite hang-out of the better Italian class, and +I've been working it carefully for a year." + +"What have you discovered?" + +"Not much, and yet a great deal. I've made friends, for one thing, and +that's considerable. Here comes one now. You know him, don't you?" Dan +indicated a thick-necked, squarely built Italian who had entered at +the moment. "That's Caesar Maruffi." + +Norvin regarded the new-comer with interest, for Maruffi stood for +what is best among his Americanized countrymen. Moreover, if rumor +spoke true, he was one of the richest and most influential foreigners +in the city. In answer to the Chief's invitation he approached and +seated himself at the table, accepting his introduction to Blake with +a smile and a gracious word. + +"Ah! It is my first opportunity to thank you for the service you have +done us in arresting that hateful brigand," he began. + +"Did you know the fellow?" Norvin queried. + +"Very well indeed." + +"Maruffi knows a whole lot, if he'd only open up. He's a Mafioso +himself--eh, Caesar?" The Chief laughed. + +"No, no!" the other exclaimed, casting a cautious glance over his +shoulder. "I tell you everything I learn. But as for this Sabella--I +thought him a trifle sullen, perhaps, but an honest fellow." + +"You don't really think there has been any mistake?" + +"Eh? How could that be possible? Did not Signore Blake remember him?" +Norvin was about to disclaim his part in the affair, but the speaker +ran on: + +"I fear you must regard all us Italians as Mafiosi, Signore Blake, but +it is not so. No! We are honest people, but we are terrorized by a few +bad men. We do not know them, Signore. We are robbed, we are +blackmailed, and if we resist, behold! something unspeakable befalls +us. We do not know who deals the blow, we merely know that we are +marked and that some day we--are buried." Maruffi shrugged his square +shoulders expressively. + + "Do you suffer in your business?" Norvin asked. + +"Per Dio! Who does not? I have adopted your free country, Signore, but +it is not so free as my own. Maledetto! You have too damned many laws +in this free America." + +Maruffi spoke hesitatingly, and yet with intense feeling; his black +eyes glittered wickedly, and it was plain that he sounded the note of +revolt which was rising from the law-abiding Italian element. His +appearance bore out his reputation for leadership, for he was big and +black and dour, and he gave the impression of unusual force. + +"Your home is in Sicily, is it not?" Blake inquired. + +"Si! I come from Palermo." + +"I have been there." + +"I remember," said Maruffi, calmly. + +Donnelly broke in, "What do you hear regarding our capture of +Sabella?" + +"Eh?" + +"How do they take it?" + +Again Maruffi shrugged. "How can they take it? My good countrymen are +delighted; others, perhaps, not so well pleased." + +"But Sabella has friends. I suppose they've marked me for revenge?" + +"No doubt! But what can they do? You are the law. With a private +citizen, with me, for instance, it would be different. My wife would +prepare herself for widowhood." + +"How's that? You're not married," said Donnelly. + +"Not yet. But I have plans. A fine Sicilian girl." + +"Good! I congratulate you." + +"Speaking of Sabella," Blake interposed, curiously, "I had a hand in +taking him, and I'm a private citizen." + +"True!" Maruffi regarded him with his impenetrable eyes. + +"You predict trouble for me, then?" + +"I predict nothing. We say in my country that no one escapes the +Mafia. No doubt we are timid. You are an American, you are not easily +frightened. But tell me"--he turned to the Chief of Police--"who is to +follow this brigand? There are others quite as black as he, if they +were known." + +"No doubt! But, unfortunately, I don't know them. Why don't you help +me out, Caesar?" + +"If I could! You have no suspicions, eh?" + +"Plenty of suspicions, but no proofs." + +Maruffi turned back to Norvin, saying: "So, you identified the +murderer of your friend Savigno? Madonna mia! You have a memory! But +were you not--afraid?" + +"Afraid of what?" + +"Ah! You are American, as I said before; you fear nothing. But it was +Belisario Cardi who killed the Conte of Martinello." + +"Belisario Cardi is only a name," said Norvin, guardedly. + +"True!" Maruffi agreed. "Being a Palermitan myself, he is real to me, +but, as you say, nobody knows." + +He rose and shook hands cordially with both men. When he had joined +the group of Italians at a near-by table, Donnelly said: + +"There's the whitest dago in the city. I thought he might be the 'One +Who Knows,' but I reckon I was mistaken. He could help me, though, if +he dared." + +"Have you confided in him?" + +"Lord, no! I don't trust any of them. Say! The more I think about that +letter, the more I think it's a bluff." + +"You can't afford to ignore it." + +"Of course not. I'll plant O'Connell and another man outside on +Thursday night and see if anything suspicious turns up, but I'll take +my dinner elsewhere." + +The two men had finished their meal when Bernie Dreux strolled in and +took the seat which Maruffi had vacated. + +"Well, how goes your detecting, Bernie?" Norvin inquired. + +"_Hist_!" breathed the little man so sharply that his hearers +started. He winked mysteriously and they saw that he was bursting with +important tidings. "There's something doing!" + +"What is it?" demanded the Chief. But Mr. Dreux answered nothing. +Instead he lit a cigarette, and as he raised the match looked +guardedly into a mirror behind Donnelly's chair. + +"I'm glad you took this table," he began in a low voice. "I always sit +where I can get a flash." + +"A _what_?" queried the astonished Blake. + +"Pianissimo with that talk!" cautioned the speaker. "You'll tip him +off." + +"Tip who?" Donnelly breathed. + +"My man! He's one of the gang. Do you see that fellow--that wop next +to Caesar Maruffi?" Bernie did not lower his eyes from the mirror, +"the third from the left." + +"Sure!" + +"Well!" triumphantly. + +"Well?" + +"That is he." + +"That's who?" + +"I don't know." + +"What the--" + +"He's one of 'em, that's all I know. I've been on him for a week. I've +trailed him everywhere. He has an accomplice--a woman!" + +The Chief's face underwent a remarkable change. "Are you sure?" he +whispered, eagerly. + +"It's a cinch! He comes to the fruit-stand every day. I think he's +after blackmail, but I'm not sure." + +"Good!" Dan exclaimed. "I want you to trail him wherever he goes, and, +above all, watch the woman. Now tear back to your banana rookery or +you'll miss something. Better have a drink first, though." + +"I'll go you; it's tough work on the nerves. I'm all upset." + +"I thought you never drank whiskey," Norvin said, still amazed at the +extraordinary transformation in his friend. + +"I don't as a rule, it kippers my stomach; but it gives me the courage +of a lion." + +Donnelly nodded with satisfaction. "Don't get pickled, but keep your +nerve. Remember, I'm depending on you." + +Dreux's slender form writhed and shuddered as he swallowed the liquor, +but his eyes were shining when he rose to go. "I'm glad I'm making +good," said he. "If anything happens to me, keep your eye skinned for +that fellow; there's dirty work afoot." + +When he had gone Donnelly stuck his napkin into his mouth to still his +laughter. "'There's dirty work afoot,'" he quoted in a strangling +voice. "Can you beat that?" + +"I--can't believe my senses. Why, Bernie's actually getting tough! Who +is this fellow he's trailing?" + +"That? That's Joe Poggi, the owner of the fruit-stand. He's my best +dago detective, and I sent him here to-night in case anything blew +off. The woman is his wife--lovely lady, too. 'Blackmail!' Oh, Lord! +I'll have to tell Poggi about this. I'll have to tell him he's being +shadowed, too, or he'll stop suddenly on the street some day and +Bernie will run into him from behind and break his nose." + +Thursday night passed without incident. Donnelly set a watch upon the +Red Wing Club, but nothing occurred to give the least color to the +written warning. In the course of a fortnight he had well-nigh +forgotten it, and when a third letter came he was less than ever +inclined to believe it genuine. + +"You forestalled the first attempt upon your life," wrote the +informant, "but another will be made. You are to be shot at Police +Headquarters some night next week. Your desk stands just inside a +window which opens upon the street. A fight will occur at the corner +near by and during the disturbance an assassin will fire upon you out +of the darkness, then disappear in the confusion. Do not treat this +warning lightly or I swear that you will repent it. + + "ONE WHO KNOWS" + +Donnelly showed this to Blake, saying, sourly, "You see. It's just as +I told you. They're trying to run me out." + +"What are you going to do?" + +"I'm going to move my desk, for one thing, then I'm going to run down +this writer. O'Connell is going through the stationery-stores now, +trying to match the water-mark on the paper. The post-office is on the +lookout for the next letter and will try to find which mail-box it is +dropped into." + +"Then you think there will be other letters to follow this one?" + +"Certainly! When they see that I've moved away from that window +they'll think they've got me going, then I'll be warned of another +plot, and another, and another. It might work with some people." The +speaker's lips curled in a wintry smile. + +"You no longer think it came from one of the Pallozzo gang?" + +"No! There's nobody in the outfit who can write a letter like that. +It's from the Mafia." + +"How can you say that when the same writer betrayed Narcone?" + +"Oh, I've asked myself the same question," Donnelly answered with a +trace of exasperation, "and I can't answer it unless that was merely a +case of revenge. Take it from me, I'll get another letter inside of +ten days. See if I don't." + +True to his prediction, the tenth day brought another warning. The +writer advised him that his enemies had changed their plans once more, +but would strike, when the first opportunity offered. As to where or +when this would occur, no information was given. The Chief was merely +urged in the strongest terms to remove himself beyond the possibility +of danger. + +Naturally the recipient took this as proof positive that the whole +affair was no more than a weak attempt to frighten him. Unfortunately, +the postal authorities could not determine where the letter had been +mailed, and O'Connell reported that the paper on which it was written +was of a variety in common use. There seemed to be little hope of +tracing the matter back to its source, so Donnelly dismissed the whole +affair from his mind and went about his duties undisturbed. + +Norvin Blake, however, could not bring himself to take the same view. +As usual, he attributed his fears to imagination, yet they preyed upon +him so constantly that he was forced to heed them. His one frightful +experience with La Mafia had marked him, it seemed, like some prenatal +influence, and now the more he dwelt upon the subject, the more his +apprehension quickened. He was ashamed to confess to Donnelly, and at +the same time he was loath to allow the Chief to expose himself +unnecessarily. Therefore he made it a point to be with him as much as +possible. This, of course, involved a considerable risk to himself, +and he recalled with misgiving what Caesar Maruffi had said that night +in the Red Wing Club. Donnelly alone had been warned, but that did not +argue that vengeance would be confined to him. + +October had come; the lazy heat of summer had passed and New Orleans +was awakening under its magic winter climate. The piny, breeze-swept +Gulf resorts had emptied their summer colonies cityward, the social +season had begun. + +The preparations for the great February Carnival were nearing +completion, and Blake had the satisfaction of knowing that Myra Nell +Warren was to realize her heart's desire. He had forced a loan upon +Bernie sufficient to meet the requirements of any Queen, and had spent +several delightful evenings with the girl herself, amused by her plans +of royal conquest. + +It was like a tonic to be with her. Norvin invariably parted from her +with a feeling of optimism and a gayety quite reasonless; he had no +fears, no apprehensions; the universe was peopled with sprites and +fairies, the morrow was a glad adventure full of merriment and +promise. + +He was in precisely such a mood one drizzly Wednesday night after +having made an inexcusably long call upon her. Nothing whatever had +occurred to put him in this agreeable humor, yet he went homeward +humming as blithely as a barefoot boy in springtime. + +As he neared the neighborhood in which Donnelly lived he decided to +drop in on him for a few moments and smoke a cigar. Business had +lately kept him away from the Chief, and he felt a bit guilty. + +But Donnelly had either retired early or else he had not returned from +Headquarters, for his windows were dark, and Norvin retraced his +steps, a trifle disappointed. In front of a cobbler's shop, across the +street, several men were talking, and as he glanced in their direction +the door behind them opened, allowing a stream of light to pour forth. +He recognized Larubio, the old Italian shoemaker himself, and he was +on the point of inquiring if Donnelly had come home, but thought +better of it. + +Larubio and his companions were idling beneath the wooden awning or +shed which extended over the sidewalk, and in the open doorway, +briefly silhouetted against the yellow light, Blake noted a man clad +in a shining rubber coat. Although the picture was fleeting, it caught +his attention. + +The thought occurred to him that these men were Italians, and +therefore possible Mafiosi, but his mood was too optimistic to permit +of silly suspicions. To-night the Mafia seemed decidedly unreal and +indefinite. + +He found himself smiling again at the memory of an argument in which +he had been worsted by Myra Nell. He had taken her a most elaborate +box of chocolates and she had gleefully promised to consume at least +half of them that very night after retiring. He had remonstrated at +such an unhygienic procedure, whereupon she had confessed to a secret, +ungovernable habit of eating candy in bed. He had argued that the +pernicious practice was sure to wreck her digestion and ruin her +teeth, but she had confounded him utterly by displaying twin rows as +sound as pearls, as white and regular as rice kernels. Her digestion, +he had to confess, was that of a Shetland pony, and he had been forced +to fall back upon an unconvincing prophecy of a toothless and +dyspeptic old age. He pictured her at this moment propped up in the +middle of the great mahogany four-poster, all lace and ruffles and +ribbons, her wayward hair in adorable confusion about her face, as she +pawed over the sweets and breathed ecstatic blessings upon his name. + +Near the corner he stumbled over a boy hiding in the shadows. Then as +he turned north on Rampart Street he ran plump into Donnelly and +O'Connell. + +"I just came from your house," he told Dan. "I thought I'd drop in and +smoke one of your bad cigars. Is there anything new?" + +"Not much! I've had a hard day and there was a Police Board meeting +to-night. I'm fagged out." + +"No more letters, eh?" + +"No. But I've heard that Sabella is safe in Sicily. That means his +finish. I'll have something else to tell you in a day or so; something +about your other friend, Cardi." + +"No! Really?" + +"If what I suspect is true, it'll be a sensation. I can't credit the +thing myself, that's why I don't want to say anything just yet. I'm +all up in the air over it." + +A moment later the three men separated, Donnelly and O'Connell turning +toward their respective homes, Blake continuing his way toward the +heart of the city. + +But the Chief's words had upset Norvin's complacency. His line of +thought was changed and he found himself once more dwelling upon the +tragedy which had left such a mark upon his life. Martel had been the +finest, the cleanest fellow he had ever known; his life, so full of +promise, had just begun, and yet he had been ruthlessly stricken down. +Norvin shuddered at the memory. He saw the road to Martinello +stretching out ahead of him like a ghost-gray canyon walled with +gloom; he heard the creaking of saddles, the muffled thud of hoofs in +the dust of the causeway, the song of a lover, then-- + +Blake halted suddenly, listening. From somewhere not far away came the +sound again; it was a gunshot, deadened by the blanket of mist and +drizzle that shrouded the streets. He turned. It was repeated for a +third time, and as he realized whence it came he cried out, +affrightedly: + +"Donnelly! Donnelly! Oh, God!" + +Then he began to run swiftly, as he had run that night four years +before, with the lights of Terranova in the distance, and in his heart +was that same sickening, horrible terror. But this time he ran, not +away from the sound, but towards it. + +As he raced along the slippery streets the night air was ripped again +and again with those same loud reverberations. He saw, by the +flickering arc-lamp above the crossing where he had just left +Donnelly, another figure flying towards him, and recognized O'Connell. +Together they turned into Girod Street. + +They were in time to see a flash from the shed that stood in front of +Larubio's shop, then an answering spurt of flame from the side of the +street upon which they were. The place was full of noise and smoke. At +the farther crossing a man in a shining rubber coat knelt and fired, +then rose and scurried into the darkness beyond. Figures broke out +from the shadows of the wooden awning in front of Larubio's shop and +followed, some turning towards the left at Basin Street, others +continuing on through the area lighted by the sputtering street light +and into the night. One of them paused and looked back as if loath to +leave the spot until certain of his work. + +Side by side Blake and O'Connell raced towards the Chief, whom they +saw lurching uncertainly along the banquette ahead of them. The +detective was cursing; Blake sobbed through his tight-clenched teeth. + +Donnelly was down when they reached him, and his empty revolver lay by +his side. Norvin raised him with shaking arms, his whole body sick +with horror. + +"Are you badly--hit, old man?" he gasped. + +"I'm--done for!" said the Chief, weakly. "And the dagos did it." + +From an open window above them a woman began to scream loudly: + +"Murder! Murder!" + +The cry was taken up in other quarters and went echoing down the +street. + +Doors were flung wide, gates slammed, men came hurrying through the +wet night, hurling startled questions at one another, but the powder +smoke which hung sluggishly in the dark night air was sufficient +answer. It floated in thin blue layers beneath the electric lights, +gradually fading and melting as the life ebbed from the mangled body +of Dan Donnelly. + +It was nearing dawn when Norvin Blake emerged from the hospital +whither Donnelly had been taken. The air was dead and heavy, a +dripping winding-sheet of fog wrapped the city in its folds; no sound +broke the silence of the hour. He was sadly shaken, for he had watched +a brave soul pass out of the light, and in his ears the words of his +friend were ringing: + +"Don't let them get away with this, Norvin. You're the only man I +trust." + + + + +XIII + +THE BLOOD OF HIS ANCESTORS + + + +At the Central Station Norvin found a great confusion. City officials +and newspaper men were coming and going, telephones were ringing, +patrolmen and detectives, summoned from their beds, were reporting and +receiving orders; yet all this bustling activity affected him with a +kind of angry impatience. It seemed, somehow, perfunctory and +inadequate; in the intensity of his feeling he doubted that any one +else realized, as he did, the full significance of what had occurred. + +As quickly as possible he made his way to O'Neil, the Assistant +Superintendent of Police, who was deep in consultation with Mayor +Wright. For a moment he stood listening to their talk, and then, at +the first pause, interposed without ceremony: + +"Tell me--what is being done?" + +O'Neil, who had not seemed to note his approach, answered without a +hint of surprise at the interruption: + +"We are dragging the city." + +"Of course. Have you arrested Larubio, the cobbler?" + +"No!" Both men turned to Blake now with concentrated attention. + +"Then don't lose a moment's time. Arrest all his friends and +associates. Look for a man in a rubber coat. I saw him fire. There's a +boy, too," he added, after a moment's pause, "about fourteen years +old. He was hiding at the corner. I think he must have been their +picket; at any rate, he knows something." + +The Assistant Superintendent noted these directions, and listened +impassively while Norvin poured forth his story of the murder. Before +it was fairly concluded he was summoned elsewhere, and, turning away +abruptly, he left the room, like a man who knows he must think of but +one thing at a time. The young man, wiping his face with uncertain +hand, turned to the Mayor. + +"Dan was the second friend I've seen murdered by these devils," he +said. "I'd like to do something." + +"We'll need your help, if it was really the dagoes." + +"What? There's no doubt on that score. Donnelly was warned." + +"Well, we ought to have them under arrest in short order." + +"And then what? They've probably arranged their alibis long ago. The +fellows who did the shooting are not the only ones, either. We must +get the leaders." + +"Exactly. O'Neil understands." + +"But he'll fail, as Donnelly failed." + +"What would you have us do?" + +Blake spoke excitedly, his emotions finding a vent. + +"Do? I'd rouse the people. Awaken the city. Create an uprising of the +law-abiding. Strip the courts of their red tape and administer justice +with a rope. Hang the guilty ones at once, before delay robs their +execution of its effect and before there is time to breed doubts and +distrust in the minds of the people." + +"You mean, in plain words--lynch them?" + +"Well, what of that? It's the only--" + +"But, my dear young man, the law--" + +"Oh, I know what you're going to say, well enough, yet there are times +when mob law is justified. If these men are not destroyed quickly they +will live to laugh at our laws and our scheme of justice. We must +strike terror into the heart of every foreign-born criminal; we must +clean the city with fire, unless we wish to see our institutions +become a mockery and our community overridden by a band of cutthroats. +The killing of Dan Donnelly is more than a mere murder; it is an +attack on our civilization." + +"You are carried away by your personal feelings." + +"I think not. If this thing runs through the regular channels, what +will happen? You know how hard it is to convict those people. We must +fight fire with fire." + +"Personally, I agree with a good deal you say; officially, of course. +I can't go so far. You say you want to help. Will you assume a large +responsibility? Will you take the lead in a popular movement to help +the enforcement of the law--organize a committee?" + +"If you think I'm the right man?" + +"Good! Understand"--the Mayor spoke now with determined earnestness-- +"we must have no lynchings; but I believe the police will need help in +the search, and I think you are the man to stir up the public +conscience and secure that aid. If you can help in apprehending the +criminals we shall see that the courts do their part. I can trust you +in so delicate a matter where I couldn't trust--some others." + +O'Neil appeared at that moment with two strange objects in his hands. + +"See what we've just found on the Basin Street banquette." + +He displayed a pair of sawed-off shotguns the stocks of which were +hinged in such a manner that the weapons could be doubled into a +length of perhaps eighteen inches and thus be concealed upon the +person. Blake examined them with mingled feelings. Having seen the +body of the Chief ripped and torn in twenty places by buckshot, slugs, +and scraps of iron, he had tried to imagine what sort of firearms had +been used. Now he knew, and he began to wonder whether death would +come to him in the same ugly form. + +"Have you sent for Larubio?" he asked. + +"The men are just leaving." + +"I'll go with them." + +O'Neil intercepted the officers at the door, and a moment later Norvin +was hurrying with them toward Girod Street. Mechanically his mind +began to review the events leading up to the murder, dwelling on each +detail with painful and fruitless persistence. He repictured the +scene that his eye had so swiftly and so carelessly recorded; he saw +again the dark shed, the dumb group of figures idling beneath it, the +open door and the flood of yellow light behind. But when he strove to +recall a single face or form, or even the precise number of persons, +he was at a loss. Nothing stood out distinctly but the bearded face +of Larubio, the silhouette of a man in a gleaming rubber coat, and, a +moment later, a slim stripling boy crouched in the shadows near the +corner. + +As the party turned into Girod Street he saw by the first streaks of +dawn that the curious had already begun to assemble. A dozen or more +men were morbidly examining the scene, re-enacting the assassination +and tracing the course of bullets by the holes in wall and fence--no +difficult matter, since the ground where Donnelly had given battle had +been swept by a fusillade. + +Larubio's shop was dark. + +The officers tried the door quietly, then at a signal from Norvin they +rushed it. The next instant the three men found themselves in an +evil-smelling room furnished with a bench, some broken chairs, a +litter of tools and shoes and leather findings. It was untenanted, +but, seeing another door ahead of him, Blake stumbled toward it over +the debris. Like the outer door, it was barred, but yielded to his +shoulder. + +It was well that the policemen were close upon his heels, for they +found him locked in desperate conflict with a huge, half-naked +Sicilian, who fought with the silent wickedness of a wolf at bay. + +The chamber was squalid and odorous; a tumbled couch, from which the +occupant had leaped, showed that he had been calmly sleeping upon the +scene of his crime. Through the dim-lit filth of the place the cobbler +whirled them, struggling like a man insane. A table fell with a crash +of dishes, a stove was wrecked, a chair smashed, then he was pinned +writhing to the bed from which he had just arisen. + +"Close the front door--quick!" Norvin panted. "Keep out the crowd!" + +One of the policemen dashed to the front of the hovel barely in time +to bar the way. + +Larubio, as he crouched there in the half-light, manacled but defiant, +made a striking figure. He was a patriarchal man. His hairy, naked +chest rose and fell as he fought for his breath, a thick beard grew +high upon his cheeks, lending dignity to his fierce aquiline features, +a tangled mass of iron-gray hair hung low above his eyes. He looked +more like an Arab sheik than a beggarly Sicilian shoemaker. + +"Why are you here?" he questioned, in a deep voice. + +Blake answered him in his own language: + +"You killed the Chief of Police." + +"No. I had no part--" + +"Don't lie!" + +"As God is my judge, I am innocent. I heard the shooting; I looked out +into the night and saw men running about. I was frightened, so I went +to bed. That is all." + +Norvin undertook to stare him down. + +"You will hang for this, Larubio," he said. + +The fierce gray eyes met his unflinchingly. + +"You had a hand in the killing, for I saw you. But you acted against +your will. Am I right?" + +Still the patriarch flung back his glance defiantly. + +"You were ordered to kill and you dared not disobey. Where is +Belisario Cardi?" + +The old man started. Into his eyes for the briefest instant there +leaped a look of terror, then it was gone. + +"I do not know what you are talking about," he answered. + +"Come! The man with the rubber coat has confessed." + +Larubio's gaze roved uncertainly about the squalid quarters; but he +shook his head, mumbling: + +"God will protect the innocent. I know nothing, your Excellency." + +They dragged him, still protesting, from his den as dogs drag an +animal from its burrow. But Norvin had learned something. That +momentary wavering glance, that flitting light of doubt and fear, had +told him that to the cobbler the name of Cardi meant something real +and terrible. + +Back at headquarters O'Neil had further information for him. + +"We've got Larubio's brother-in-law, Caspardo Cressi. It was his son, +no doubt, whom you saw waiting at the corner." + +"Have you found the boy?" + +"No, he's gone." + +"Then make haste before they have time to spirit him away. These men +won't talk, but we might squeeze something out of the boy. He's the +weakest link in the chain, so you _must_ find him." + +The morning papers were on the street when Norvin went home. New +Orleans had awakened to the outrage against her good name. Men were +grouped upon corners, women were gossiping from house to house, the +air was surcharged with a great excitement. It was as if a public +enemy had been discovered at the gates, as if an alien foe had struck +while the city slept. That unformed foreign prejudice which had been +slowly growing had crystallized in a single night. + +To Norvin the popular clamor, which rose high during the next few +days, had a sickening familiarity. At the time of Martel Savigno's +murder he had looked upon justice as a thing inevitable, he had felt +that the public wrath, once aroused, was an irresistible force; yet he +had seen how ineffectually such a force could spend itself. And the +New Orleans police seemed likely to accomplish little more than the +Italian soldiers. Although more than a hundred arrests were made, it +was doubtful if, with the exception of Larubio and Cressi, any of the +real culprits had been caught. He turned the matter over in his mind +incessantly, consulted with O'Neil as to ways and means, conferred +with the Mayor, sounded his friends. Then one morning he awoke to find +himself at the head of a Committee of Justice, composed of fifty +leading business men of the city, armed with powers somewhat vaguely +defined, but in reality extremely wide. He set himself diligently to +his task. + +There followed through the newspapers an appeal to the Italian +population for assistance, and offers of tremendous rewards. This +resulted in a flood of letters, some signed, but mostly anonymous, a +multitude of shadowy clues, of wild accusations. But no sooner was a +promising trail uncovered than the witness disappeared or became +inspired with a terror which sealed his lips. It began to appear that +there was really no evidence to be had beyond what Norvin's eyes had +photographed. And this, he knew, was not enough to convict even +Larubio and his brother-in-law. + +While thus baffled and groping for the faintest clue, he received a +letter which brought him at least a ray of sunshine. He had opened +perhaps half of his morning's mail one day when he came upon a truly +remarkable missive. It was headed with an amateurish drawing or a +skull; at the bottom of the sheet was a dagger, and over all, in +bright red, was the life-size imprint of a small, plump hand. + +In round, school-girl characters he read as follows: + +"Beware! You are a traitor and a deserter, therefore you are doomed. +Escape is impossible unless you heed this warning. Meet me at the old +house on St. Charles Street, and bring your ransom. + "THE AVENGER." + +At the lower left-hand corner, in microscopic characters, was written: + + "I love chocolate nougat best." + +Norvin laughed as he re-read this sanguinary epistle, for he had to +admit that it had given him a slight start. Being a man of action, he +walked to the telephone and called a number which had long since +become familiar. + +"Is this the Creole Candy Kitchen? Send ten pounds of your best +chocolate nougat to Miss Myra Nell Warren at once. This is Blake +speaking. Wait! I have enough on my conscience without adding +another sin. Perhaps you'd better make it five pounds now and five +pounds a week hereafter. Put it in your fanciest basket, with lots of +blue ribbon, and label it 'Ransom!'" + +Next he called the girl himself, and after an interminable wait heard +a breathless voice say: + +"Hello, Norvin! I've been out in the kitchen making cake, so I +couldn't get away. It's in the oven now, cooking like mad." + +"I've just received a threatening letter," he told her. + +"Who in the world could have sent it?" + +"Evidently some blackmailing wretch. It demands a ransom." + +"Heavens! You won't be cowardly enough to yield?" + +"Certainly. I daren't refuse." + +He heard her laughing softly. "Why don't you tell the police?" + +"Indeed! There's an army of men besieging the place now." + +"Then you must expect to catch the writer?" + +"I've been trying to for a long time." + +"I'm sure I don't know what you are talking about," she said, +innocently. + +"Could I have sent the ransom to the wrong address?" + +He pretended to be seized with doubt, whereupon Myra Nell exclaimed, +quickly: + +"Oh, not necessarily." Then, after a pause, "Norvin, how does a person +get red ink off of her hands?" + +"Use a cotton broker. Let him hold it this evening." + +"I'd love to, but Bernie wouldn't allow it. It was his ink, you know, +and I spilled it all over his desk. Norvin--is it really nougat?" + +"It is, the most unhealthy, the most indigestible--" + +"You _duck_! You _may_ hold my gory hand for--Wait!" Blake +heard a faint shriek. "Don't ring off. Something terrible--" Then the +wire was dead. + +"Hello! Hello!" he called. "What's wrong, Myra Nell?" He rattled the +receiver violently, and getting no response, applied to Central. After +some moments he heard her explaining in a relieved tone: + +"Oh, _such_ a fright as I had." + +"What was it? For Heaven's--" + +"The cake!" + +"You frightened me. I thought--" + +"It's four stories high and pasted together with caramel." + +"You should never leave a 'phone in that way without--" + +"Bernie detests caramel; but I'm expecting a 'certain party' to call +on me to-night. Norvin, do you think red ink would hurt a cake?" + +"Myra Nell," he said, severely, "didn't you wash your hands before +mixing that dough?" + +"Of course." + +"I have my doubts. Will you really be at liberty this evening?" + +"That depends entirely upon you. If I am, I shall exact another +ransom--flowers, perhaps." + +"I'll send them anyhow, Marechal Neils." + +"Oh, you are a--Wait!" + +For a second time Miss Warren broke off; but now Norvin heard her cry +out gladly to some one. He held the receiver patiently until his arm +cramped, then rang up again. + +"Oh, I forgot all about you, Norvin dear," she chattered. "Vittoria +has just come, so I can't talk to you any more. Won't you run out and +meet her? I know she's just dying to--She says she isn't, either! Oh, +fiddlesticks! You're not so busy as all that. Very well, we'll +probably eat the cake ourselves. Good-by!" + +"Good-by, Avenger," he laughed. + +As he turned away smiling he found Bernie Dreux comfortably ensconced +in an office chair and regarding him benignly. + +"Hello, Bernie! I didn't hear you come in." + +"Wasn't that Myra Nell talking?" inquired the little man. + +"Yes." + +"You called her 'Avenger.' What has she been up to now?" + +Blake handed him the red-hand letter. To his surprise Bernie burst out +angrily: + +"How dare she?" + +"What?" + +"It's most unladylike--begging a gentleman for gifts. I'll see that +she apologizes." + +"If you do I'll punch your head. She couldn't do anything unladylike +if she tried." + +"I don't approve--" + +"Nonsense!" + +"I'll see that she gets her chocolates." + +"Oh, I've sent 'em--a deadly consignment--enough to destroy both of +you. And I've left a standing order for five pounds a week." + +"But that letter--it's blackmail." Bernie groaned. "She holds me up in +the same way whenever she feels like it. She's getting suspicious of +me lately, and I daren't tell her I'm a detective. The other day she +set Remus, our gardener, on my trail, and he shadowed me all over the +town. Felicite thinks there's something wrong, too, and she's taken to +following me. Between her and Remus I haven't a moment's privacy." + +"It's tough for a detective to be dogged by his gardener and his +sweetheart," Norvin sympathized. He began to run through his mail, +while his visitor talked on in his amusing, irrelevant fashion. + +"I'm rather offended that I wasn't named on that Committee of Fifty," +Bernie confessed, after a time. "You know how the Chief relied on me?" + +"Exactly." + +"Well, I'm full of Italian mysteries now. What I haven't discovered by +my own investigations, Vittoria Fabrizi has told me. For instance, I +know what became of the boy Gino Cressi." + +"You do?" Blake looked up curiously from a letter he had been eagerly +perusing. + +"He's in Mobile." + +"Are you sure?" + +"Certainly." + +"I think you're wrong." + +"Why am I wrong?" + +"Read this. My mail is full of anonymous communications." He +passed over the letter in his hand, and Mr. Dreux read as follows: + +NORVIN BLAKE, + + NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA. + +The Cressi boy is hidden at 93 1/2 St. Phillip Street. Go personally +and in secret, for there are spies among the police. + + ONE WHO KNOWS. + +"Good Lord! Do you believe it?" + +"I shall know in an hour." In reality Norvin had no doubt that his +informant told the truth. On the contrary, he found that he had been +waiting subconsciously for a hint from this mysterious but reliable +source, and now that it had come he felt confident and elated. "A leak +in the department would explain the maddening series of checkmates up +to date." After a moment's hesitation he continued: "If Gino Cressi +proves to be the boy I saw that night, we will put the rope around his +father's and his uncle's necks, for he is little more than a child, +and they evidently knew he would confess if accused; otherwise they +wouldn't have been so careful to hide him." He rose and, eying Dreux +intently, inquired, "Will you go along and help me take him?" + +Bernie fell into a sudden panic of excitement. His face paled, he +blinked with incredible rapidity, his lips twitched, and he clasped +his thin, bloodless hands nervously. + +"Why--are you--really--going--and alone?" + +Norvin nodded. "If they have spies among our own men the least +indiscretion may give the alarm. Besides, there is no time to lose; it +would be madness to go there after dark. Will you come?" + +"You--b-b-bet," Mr. Dreux stuttered. After a painful effort to control +himself he inquired, with rolling eyes, "S-say, Norvin, will there be +any fighting--any d-d-danger?" + +Blake's own imagination had already presented that aspect of the +matter all too vividly. + +"Yes, there may be danger," he confessed. "We may have to take the boy +by force." His nerves began to dance and quiver, as always before +every new adventure. + +"Perhaps, after all, you'd better not go. I--understand how you feel." + +The little man burst out in a forceful expletive. + +"_Pudding!_ I _want_ to fight. D-don't you see?" + +"No. I don't." + +"I've never been in a row. I've never done anything brave or +desperate, like--like you. I'm aching for trouble. I go looking for it +every night." + +"Really!" Blake looked his incredulity. + +"Sure thing! Last night I insulted a perfectly nice gentleman just to +provoke a quarrel. I'd never seen him before, and ordinarily I +hesitate to accost strangers; but I felt as if I'd have hysterics if I +couldn't lick somebody; so I walked up to this person and told him his +necktie was in rotten taste." + +"What did he say?" + +"He offered to go home and change it. I was so chagrined that I-- +cursed him fearfully." + +"Bernie!" + +Dreux nodded with an expression of the keenest satisfaction. "I could +have cried. I called him a worm, a bug, a boll-weevil; but he said he +had a family and didn't intend to be shot up by some well-dressed +desperado." + +"I suppose it's the blood of your ancestors." + +"I suppose it is. Now let's go get this dago boy. I'm loaded for +grizzlies, and if the Mafia cuts in I'll croak somebody." He drew a +huge rusty military revolver from somewhere inside his clothes and +flourished it so recklessly that his companion recoiled. + +Together the two set out for St. Phillip Street. Blake, whose +reputation for bravery had become proverbial, went reluctantly, preyed +upon by misgivings; Dreux, the decadent, overbred dandy, went gladly, +as if thirsting for the fray. + + + + +XIV + +THE NET TIGHTENS + + + +Number 93 1/2 St. Phillip Street proved to be a hovel, in the front +portion of which an old woman sold charcoal and kindling. Leaving +Bernie on guard, Blake penetrated swiftly to the rooms behind, paying +no heed to the crone's protestations. In one corner a slender, dark-eyed +boy was cowering, whom he recognized at once as the lad he had +seen on the night of Donnelly's death. + +"You are Gino Cressi," he said, quietly. + +The boy shook his head. + +"Oh, yes, you are, and you must come with me, Gino." + +The little fellow recoiled. "You have come to kill me," he quavered. + +"No, no, my little man. Why should I wish to do that?" + +"I am a Sicilian; you hate me." + +"That is not true. We hate only bad Sicilians, and you are a good +boy." + +"I did not kill the Chief." + +"True. You did not even know that those other men intended to kill +him. You were merely told to wait at the corner until you saw him come +home. Am I right?" + +"I do not know anything about the Chief," Gino mumbled. + +But it was plain that some of his fear was vanishing under this +unexpected kindness. Blake had a voice which won dumb animals, and a +smile which made friends of children. At last the young Sicilian came +forward and put his hand into the stranger's. + +"They told me to hide or the Americans would kill me. Madonna mia! I +am no Mafioso! I--I wish to see my father." + +"I will take you to him now." + +"You will not harm me?" + +"No. You are perfectly safe." + +But the boy still hung back, stammering: + +"I--am afraid, Si'or. After all, you see, I know nothing. Perhaps I +had better wait here." + +"But you will come, to please me, will you not? Then when you find +that the policemen will not hurt you, you will tell us all about it, +eh, carino?" + +He led his shrinking captive out through the front of the house, +whence the crone had fled to spread the alarm, and lifted him into the +waiting cab. But Bernie Dreux was loath to acknowledge such a tame +conclusion to an adventure upon which he had built high hopes. + +"L-let's stick round," he shivered. "It's just getting g-g-good." + +"Come on, you idiot." Blake fairly dragged him in and commanded the +driver to whip up. "That old woman will rouse the neighborhood, and +we'll have a mob heaving bricks at us in another minute." + +"That'll be fine!" Dreux declared, his pride revolting at what he +considered a cowardly retreat. He had come along in the hope of doing +deeds that would add luster to his name, and he did not intend to be +disappointed. It required a vigorous muscular effort to keep him from +clambering out of the carriage. + +"I don't understand you at all," said Norvin, with one hand firmly +gripping his coat collar, "but I understand the value of discretion at +this moment, and I don't intend to take any chances on losing our +little friend Gino before he has turned State's evidence." + +Dreux sank back, gloomily enough, continuing for the rest of the +journey to declaim against the fate that had condemned him to a life +of insipid peace; but it was not until they had turned out of the +narrow streets of the foreign quarter into the wide, clean stretch of +Canal Street that Blake felt secure. + +Little Gino Cressi was badly frightened. His wan, pinched face was +ashen and he shivered wretchedly. Yet he strove to play the man, and +his pitiful attempt at self-control roused something tender and +protective in his captor. Laying a reassuring hand upon his shoulder, +Blake said, gently: + +"Coraggio! No harm shall befall you." + +"I--do not wish to die, Excellency." + +"You will not die. Speak the truth, figlio mio, and the police will be +very kind to you. I promise." + +"I know nothing," quavered the child. "My father is a good man. They +told me the Chief was dead, but I did not kill him. I only hid." + +"Who told you the Chief was dead?" + +"I--do not remember." + +"Who told you to hide?" + +"I do not remember, Si'or." Gino's eyes were like those of a hunted +deer, and he trembled as if dreadfully cold. + +It was a wretched, stricken child whom Blake led into O'Neil's office, +and for a long time young Cressi's lips were glued; but eventually he +yielded to the kind-faced men who were so patient with him and his +lies, and told them all he knew. + +On the following morning the papers announced three new arrests in the +Donnelly case, resulting from a confession by Gino Cressi. On the +afternoon of the same day the friendly and influential Caesar Maruffi +called upon Blake with a protest. + +"Signore, my friend," he began, "you and your Committee are doing a +great injustice to the Italians of this city." + +"How so?" + +"Already everybody hates us. We cannot walk upon your streets without +insult. Men curse us, children spit at us. We are not Jews; we are +Italians. There are bad people among my countrymen, of course, but, +Signore, look upon me. Do you think such men as I--" + +"Oh, you stand for all that is best in your community. Mr. Maruffi. I +only wish you'd help us clean house." + +The Sicilian shrugged. "Help? How can I help?" + +"Tell what you know of the Mafia so that we can destroy it. At every +turn we are thwarted by the secrecy of your people." + +"They know what is good for them. As for me, my flesh will not turn +the point of a knife, Signore. Life is an enjoyable affair, and if I +die I can never marry. What would you have me tell?" + +"The name of the Capo-Mafia, for instance." + +"You think there is a Capo-Mafia?" + +"I know it. What's more, I know who he is." + +"Belisario Cardi? Bah! Few people believe there is such a man." + +"You and I believe it." + +"Perhaps. But what if I could lay hands upon him? Think you that I, or +any Sicilian, would dare? All the police of this city could never take +Belisario Cardi. It is to make laugh! Our friend Donnelly was unwise, +he was too zealous. Now--he is but a memory. He took a life, his life +was taken in return. This affair will mean more deaths. Leave things +as they are, my friend, before you too are mourned." + +Norvin eyed his caller curiously. + +"That sounds almost as much like a threat as a warning." + +"God forbid! I simply state the truth for your own good and for the +good of all of us. Wherever Sicilians are found there your laws will +be ignored. For my own part, naturally, I do not approve--I am an +American now--but the truth is what I tell you." + +"In other words, you think we ought to leave your countrymen alone?" + +"Ah, I do not go so far. The laws should be enforced, that is certain. +But in trying to do what is impossible you stir up race hatred and +make it hard for us reputable Sicilians, who would help you so far as +lies in our power. You cannot stamp out the Mafia in a day, in a week; +it is Sicilian character. Already you have done enough to vindicate +the law. If you go on in a mad attempt to catch this Cardi--whose +existence, even, is doubtful--the consequences may be in every way +bad." + +"We have five of the murderers now, and we'll have the other man soon-- +the fellow with the rubber coat. The grand jury will indict them. But +we won't stop there. We're on a trail that leads higher up, to the +man, or men, who directed Larubio and the others to do their work." + +Maruffi shook his head mournfully. "And the Cressi boy--it was you who +found him?" + +"It was." + +"How did you do it?" + +Norvin laughed. "If you'd only enlist in the cause I'd tell you all my +secrets gladly." + +"Eh! Then he was betrayed!" + +For the life of him Norvin could not tell whether the man was pleased +or chagrined at his secrecy, but something told him that the Sicilian +was feeling him out for a purpose. He smiled without answering. + +"Betrayed!" said Maruffi. "Ah, well, I should not like to be in the +shoes of the betrayer." He seemed to lose himself in thought for a +moment. "Believe me, I would help you if I could, but I know nothing, +and besides it is dangerous. I am a good citizen, but I am not a +detective. You American-born," he smiled, "assume that all we +Sicilians are deep in the secrets of the Mafia. So the people in the +street insult us, and you in authority think that if we would only +tell--bah! Tell what? We know no more than you, and it is less safe +for us to aid." He rose and extended his hand. "Of course, if I learn +anything I will inform you; but there are times when it is best to let +sleeping dogs lie." + +Norvin closed the door behind him with a feeling of relief, for he was +puzzled as to the object of this visit and wanted time to think it out +undisturbed. The upshot of his reflection was that Donnelly had been +right and that Caesar was indeed the author of the warning letters. As +to his want of knowledge, the Sicilian protested rather like a man who +plays a part openly. On the other hand, his fears for his own safety +seemed genuine enough. What more natural, then, than that he should +"wish to test Donnelly's successor with the utmost care before +proceeding with his disclosures?" Blake was glad that he had been +secretive, for if Maruffi were the unknown friend he would find such +caution reassuring. + +As if to confirm this view of the case, there came, a day or two +later, another communication, stating that the assassin who was still +at large (he, in fact, who had worn the rubber coat) was a laborer in +the parish of St. John the Baptist, named Frank Normando. The letter +went on to say that in escaping from the scene of the crime the man +had fallen on the slippery pavement, and the traces of his injury +might still be found upon his body. + +Norvin lost no time in consulting O'Neil. + +"Jove! You're the best detective we have," said the Acting Chief, +admiringly. "I'd do well to turn this affair over to you entirely." + +"Have you learned anything more from your prisoners?" + + "Nothing. They refuse to talk. We're giving them the third degree; +but it's no use. There was another murder on St. Phillip Street last +night. The old woman who guarded the Cressi boy was found dead." + +"Then they think she betrayed the lad?" Norvin recalled Maruffi's hint +that it would go hard with the traitor. + +"Yes; we might have expected it. How many men will you need to take +this Normando?" + +"I? You--think I'd better do the trick?" Blake had not intended to +take any active part in the capture. He was already known as the head +of the movement to avenge Donnelly; he had apprehended Larubio and the +Cressi boy with his own hand. Inner voices warned him wildly to run no +further risks. + +"I thought you'd prefer to lead the raid," O'Neil said. + +"So I would. Give me two or three men and we'll bring in Normando, +dead or alive." + +Six hours later the last of Donnelly's actual assassins was in the +parish prison and the police were in possession of evidence showing +his movements from early morning on the day of the murder up to the +hour of the crime. His identification was even more complete than that +of his accomplices, and the public press thanked Norvin Blake in the +name of the city for his efficient service. + +The anonymous letters continued to come to him regularly, and each one +contained some important clue, which, followed up, invariably led to +evidence of value. Slowly, surely, out of nothing as it were, the +chain was forged. Now came the names of persons who had seen or had +talked with some of the accused upon the fatal day, now a hint which +turned light upon some dark spot in their records. Again the letters +aided in the discovery of important witnesses, who, under pressure, +confessed to facts which they had feared to make public--until at last +the history of the six assassins lay exposed like an open sheet before +the prosecuting attorney. + +The certainty and directness with which the "One Who Knows" worked was +a matter of ever-increasing amazement to Blake. He himself was little +more than an instrument in these unseen hands. Who or what could the +writer be? By what means could he remain in such intimate touch with +the workings of the Mafia, and what reason impelled him to betray its +members? Hour after hour the young man speculated, racking his head +until it ached. He considered every possibility, he began to look with +curiosity at every face. At length he came to feel an even greater +interest in the identity of this hidden friend than in the result of +the struggle itself. But investigations--no matter how cautious-- +invariably resulted in a prompt and imperative warning to desist upon +pain of ruining everything. + +Gradually in his mind the conviction assumed certainty that the +omniscient informer could be none other than Caesar Maruffi. He +frequented the Red Wing Club as Donnelly had done, and the more he saw +of the fellow the more firm became his belief. He had recognized at +their first meeting that Caesar was unusual--there was something +unfathomable about him--but precisely what this peculiarity was he +could never quite determine. + +As for Maruffi, he met Norvin's advances half-way; but although he was +apparently more than once upon the verge of some disclosure, the +terror of the brotherhood seemed always to intervene. Feeling that he +could not openly voice his suspicions until the other was ready to +show his hand, Blake kept a close mouth, and thus the two played at +cross-purposes. Maruffi--if he were indeed the author of those +letters--had not shrunk from betraying the unthinking instruments of +the Mafia. Would he ever bring himself to implicate the man, or men, +higher up? Blake doubted it. A certain instinctive distrust of the +Sicilian was beginning to master him when a letter came which put a +wholly different face upon the matter. + +"The men who really killed Chief Donnelly," it read, "are Salvatore di +Marco, Frank Garcia, Giordano Bolla, and Lorenzo Cardoni." Blake +gasped; these were men of standing and repute in the foreign +community. "Larubio and his companions were but parts of the machine; +these are the hands which set them in motion. These four men dined +together on the evening of October 15th, at Fabacher's, then attended +a theater where they made themselves conspicuous. From there they +proceeded to the lower section of the city and were purposely arrested +for disturbing the peace about the time of Donnelly's murder, in order +to establish incontestable alibis. Nevertheless, it was they who laid +the trap, and they are equally guilty with the wretches who obeyed +their orders. It was they who paid over the blood money, and with +their arrest you will have all the accessories to the crime, save one. +Of him I can tell you nothing. I fear I can never find him, for he +walks in shadow and no man dares identify him." + +The importance of this information was tremendous, for arrests up to +date had been made only among the lower element. An accusation against +Di Marco, Garcia, Bolla, and Cardoni would set the city ablaze. O'Neil +was aghast at the charge. The Mayor was incredulous, the Committee of +Fifty showed signs of hesitation. But Blake, staking his reputation on +the genuineness of the letter, and urging the reliability of the +writer as shown on each occasion in the past, won his point, and the +arrests were made. + +The Italian press raised a frightful clamor, the prisoners themselves +were righteously indignant, and Norvin found that he had begun to lose +that confidence which the public had been so quick to place in him. +Nevertheless, he pursued his work systematically, and soon the +mysterious agent proceeded to weave a new web around the four +suspected men, while he looked on fascinated, doing as he was bid, +keeping his own counsel as he had been advised, and turning over the +results of his inquiries to the police as they were completed. + +Then came what he had long been dreading--a warning like those which +had foreshadowed Donnelly's death--and he began to spend sleepless +nights. His daylight hours were passed in a strained expectancy; he +fought constantly to hold his fears in check; he began sitting with +his face to doors; he turned wide corners and avoided side streets. He +became furtive and watchful; his eyes were forever flitting here and +there; he chose the outer edges of the sidewalks, and he went nowhere +after nightfall unattended. The time was past when he could doubt the +constancy of his purpose; but he did fear a nervous breakdown, and +even shuddered at the thought of possible insanity. Being in fact as +sane a man as ever lived, his irrational nerves alarmed him all the +more. He could not conceive that an event was immediately before him +which, without making his position safer, would rouse him from all +thought of self. + +Our lives are swayed by trifles; a feather's weight may alter the +course of our destinies. A man's daily existence is made up of an +infinite series of choices, every one of which is of the utmost +importance, did he but know it. We follow paths of a million forkings, +none of which converge. A momentary whim, a passing fancy, a broken +promise, turns our feet into trails that wind into realms undreamed +of. + +It so happened that Myra Nell Warren yielded to an utterly reasonless +impulse to go calling at the utterly absurd hour of 10 A.M. Miss +Warren followed no set rules in her conduct, her mind reacted +according to no given formula, and, therefore, when it suddenly +occurred to her to visit a little old creole lady in the French +quarter, she went without thoughtful consideration or delay. + +Madame la Branche was a distant cousin on Bernie's side--so distant, +in fact, that no one except herself had ever troubled to trace the +precise relationship; but she employed a cook whose skill was +celebrated. Now Myra Nell's appetite was a most ungovernable affair, +and when she realized that her complete happiness depended upon a +certain bouillabaisse, in the preparation of which Madame la Branche's +Julia had become famous, she whisked her hair into a knot, jammed her +best and largest hat over its unruly confusion, and went bouncing away +in the direction of Esplanade Street. + +It was in the early afternoon that Norvin Blake received a note from a +coal-black urchin, who, after many attempts, had finally succeeded in +penetrating to his inner office. + +Recognizing the writing, Norvin tore open the envelope eagerly, ready +to be entertained by some fresh example of the girl's infinite +variety. He read with startled eyes: + +"I send this by a trusted messenger, hoping that it will reach you in +time. I am a prisoner. I am in danger. I fear my beauty is destroyed. +If you love me, come. + "Your wretched + + "MYRA NELL." + +The address was that of a house on Esplanade Street. + +"How did you get this?" he demanded, harshly, of the pickaninny. + +"A lady drap it from a window." + +"Where? Where was she?" + +"In a gre't big house on Esplanade Street. She seemed mighty put out +about something. Then a man run me away with a club." + +A moment later Blake was on the street and had hailed a carriage. The +driver, reading urgency in the set face of his fare, whipped the +horses into a gallop and the vehicle tore across town, leaping and +rocking violently. The thought that Myra Nell was in danger filled +Blake with a physical sickness. Her beauty gone! Could it be that the +Mafia had taken this means of attacking him, knowing of his affection +for the girl? Of a sudden she became very dear, and he was smothered +with fury that any one should cause her suffering. + +His heart was pounding madly as the carriage slowed into Esplanade +Street, threatening to upset, and he saw ahead of him the house he +sought. With a sharp twinge of apprehension he sighted another man +approaching the place at a run, and leaping from his conveyance, he +raced on with frantic speed. + + + + +XV + +THE END OF THE QUEST + + + +Evidently the alarm had spread, for there were others ahead of Blake. +Several men were grouped beneath an open window. They were strangely +excited; some were panting as if from violent exertion; a young French +Creole, Lecompte Rilleau, was sprawled at full length upon the grassy +banquette, either badly injured or entirely out of breath. He raised a +listless hand to the newcomer, as if waving him to the attack. Norvin +recognized them all as admirers of Myra Nell--cotton brokers, +merchants, a bank cashier--a great relief surged over him. + +"Thank God! You're here--in time," he gasped. "What's happened to-- +her?" + +Raymond Cline started to speak, but just then Blake heard the girl +herself calling to him, and saw her leaning from a window, her piquant +beauty framed with blushing roses which hung about the sill. + +"Myra Nell! You're safe!" he cried, shakingly. "What have they done to +you?" + +She smiled piteously and shook her dark head. + +"You were good to come. I am a prisoner." + +"A prisoner!" Norvin stared at the young men about him. "Come on," he +said, "let's get her out!" + +But Murray Logan quieted him. "It's no use, old man." + +"What d'you mean?" + +"You can't go in." + +"Can't--go--in?" As Blake stared uncomprehendingly at the speaker he +heard rapid footsteps approaching and saw Achille Marigny coming on +the wings of the wind. It was he who appeared in the distance as +Norvin rounded the corner, and it was plain now that he was well-nigh +spent. + +Rilleau reared himself on one elbow and cried with difficulty: + +"Welcome, Achille." + +"Take it easy, Marigny," called Cline; "we've saved her." + +Some one laughed, and the suspicion that he had been hoaxed swept over +Blake. + +"What's the joke?" he demanded. "I was frightened to death." + +"The house is quarantined." + +"I never dreamed you'd _all_ come," Miss Warren was saying, +sweetly. "It was very gallant, and I shall _never_ forget it-- +never." + +"She says her--beauty is--gone," wildly panted Marigny, who had run +himself blind and as yet could hear nothing but the drumming in his +ears. + +"Judge for yourself." Cline steadied him against the low iron fence +and pointed to the girl's bewitching face embowered in the leafy +window above. + +From where he lay flat on his back, idly flapping his hands, Rilleau +complained: "I have a weak heart. Will somebody get me a drink?" + +"It was _splendid_ of you," Myra Nell called down to the group. +"I love you for it. Please get me out, right away." + +Norvin now perceived a burly individual seated upon the steps of the +La Branche mansion. He approached with a view to parleying, but the +man forestalled him" saying warningly: + +"You can't go in. They've got smallpox in there." + +"Smallpox!" + +"Go away from that door!" screamed Myra Nell; but the fellow merely +scowled. + +"I hate to offend the lady," he explained to Norvin, in a hoarse +whisper; "but I can't let her out." + +Miss Warren repeated in a fury: + +"Go away, I tell you. These are friends of mine. If you were a +gentleman you'd know you're not wanted. Norvin, make him skedaddle." + +Blake shook his head. "You've scared us all blue. If you're +quarantined I don't see what we can do." + +"The idea! You can at least come in." + +"If you go in, you can't come out," belligerently declared the +watchman. "Them's orders." + +"_Oh-h!_ You monster!" cried his prisoner. + +"She says herself she's got it," the man explained. + +"I never did!" Myra Nell wrung her hands. "Will you stand there and +let me perish? Do you refuse to save me?" + +"Where is Madame la Branche?" Norvin asked. + +"Asleep. And Cousin Montegut is playing solitaire in the library." + +"Then who has the smallpox?" + +"The cook! They took her screaming to the pest-house an hour after I +came. I shall be the next victim; I feel it. We're shut up here for a +_week_, maybe longer. Think of that! There's nothing to do, +nobody to talk to, nothing to look at. We need another hand for whist. +I--I supposed somebody would volunteer." + +"I'd love to," Rilleau called, faintly, from the curb, "but I wouldn't +survive a week. My heart is beating its last, and besides--I don't +play whist." + +Mr. Cline called the attention of his companions to two figures which +had appeared in the distance, and began to chant: + + "The animals came in two by two, + The elephant and the kangaroo," + +"Gentlemen, here come the porpoise and the antelope. We are now +complete." + +The new arrivals proved to be Bernie Dreux and August Kulm, the latter +a fat Teutonic merchant whose place of business was down near the +river. Mr. Kulm had evidently run all the way, for he was laboring +heavily and his gait had long since slackened into a stumbling trot. +His eyes were rolling wildly; his fresh young cheeks were purple and +sheathed in perspiration. + +Miss Warren exclaimed, crossly: + +"Oh, dear! I didn't send for Bernie. I'll bet he's furious." + +And so it proved. When her half-brother's horrified alarm had been +dispelled by the noisy group of rescuers it was replaced by the +blackest indignation. He thanked them stiffly and undertook to +apologize for his sister, in the midst of which Rilleau, who had now +managed to regain his feet, suggested the formation of "The Myra Nell +Contagion Club." + +"Its object shall be the alleviation of our lady's distress, and its +membership shall be limited to her rejected suitors," he declared. +"We'll take turns amusing her. I'll appoint myself chairman of the +entertainment committee and one of us will always be on guard. We'll +sing, we'll dance, we'll cavort beneath the window, and help to while +the dreary hours away." + +His suggestion was noisily accepted, then after an exchange of views +Murray Logan confessed that he had bolted a directors' meeting, and +that ruin stared him in the face unless he returned immediately. +Achille Marigny, it appeared, had unceremoniously fled from the trial +of an important lawsuit, and Raymond Cline was needed at the bank. +Foote, Delavan, and the others admitted that they, too, must leave +Miss Warren to her fate, at least until after 'Change had closed. And +so, having put themselves at her service with extravagant +protestations of loyalty, promising candy, books, flowers, a choir to +sing beneath her window, they finally trooped off, half carrying the +rotund Mr. Kulm, who had sprinted himself into a jelly-like state of +collapse. + +Rilleau alone maintained his readiness to brave the perils of +smallpox, leprosy, or plague at Miss Warren's side, until Bernie +informed him that the very idea was shocking, whereupon he dragged +himself away with the accusation that all his heart trouble lay at her +door. + +"Oh, you spoiled it all!" Myra Nell told her brother, indignantly. +"You might at least have let _him_ come in. Cousin Althea would +have chaperoned us." + +"The idea! Why _did_ you do such an atrocious thing?" + +"Where you frightened, Norvin?" The girl beamed hopefully down upon +him. + +"Horribly. I'm not over it yet. I'm half inclined to act on Lecompte's +suggestion and break in." + +She clapped her hands gleefully, whereupon the watchman arose, saying: + +"No you don't!" + +"I wouldn't allow such a thing," said Bernie, firmly. "It would mean a +scandal." + +"I--I can't stay here _alone_, for a whole _week_. I'll +die." + +"Then I'll join you myself," her brother offered. + +Myra Nell looked alarmed. "Oh, not _you_! I want some one to +nurse me when I fall ill." + +"What makes you think you'll catch it? Were you exposed?" + +"Exposed! Heavens! I can feel the disease coming on this very minute. +The place is full of germs; I can spear 'em with a hat-pin." She +shuddered and managed to counterfeit a tear. + +"I've an idea," said Norvin. "I'll get that trained nurse who saved +you when you fell off the horse." + +"Vittoria? She might do. But, Norvin, the horse threw me." She warned +him with a grimace which Bernie did not see. "He's a frightful beast." + +"I can't afford a trained nurse," Dreux objected, "and you don't need +one, anyhow." + +"All right for you, Bernie; if you don't care any more for my life +than that, I'll sicken and die. When a girl's relatives turn against +her it's time she was out of the way." + +"Oh, all right," said her brother, angrily. "It's ruinous, but I +suppose you must have it your way." + +Myra Nell shook her head gloomily. "No--not if you are going to feel +like that. Of course, if she were here she could cut off my hair when +I take to my bed; she could bathe my face with lime-water when my +beauty goes; she could listen to my ravings and understand, for she is +a--woman. But no, I'm not worth it. Perhaps I can get along all right, +and, anyhow, I'll have to teach school or--or be a nun if I'm all +pock-marks." + +"Good Lord!" Bernie wiped his brow with a trembling hand. "D'you think +that'll happen, Norvin?" + +"It's bound to," the girl predicted, indifferently. "But what's the +odds?" Suddenly a new thought dilated her eyes with real horror. "Oh!" +she cried. "_Oh!_ I just happened to remember. I'm to be Queen of +the Carnival! Now, I'll be scarred and hideous, even if I happen to +recover; but I won't recover. You shall have my royal robe, Bunny. +Keep it always. And Norvin shall have my hair." + +"Here! I--don't want your hair," Blake asserted, nervously. "I mean +not without--" + +"It is all I have to give." + +"You may not catch the smallpox, after all." + +"We'll--have Miss Fabrizi b-by all means," Bernie chattered. + +"You stay here and talk to her while I go," Norvin suggested, quickly. +"And, Myra Nell, I'll fetch you a lot of chocolates. I'll fetch you +anything, if you'll only cheer up." + +"Remember, It's against my wishes," the girl said. "But she's not at +the hospital now; she's living in the Italian quarter." She gave him +the street, and number, and he made off in all haste. + +On his way he had time to think more collectedly of the girl he had +just left. Her prank had shocked him into a keen realization of his +feeling for her, and he began to understand the large part she played +in his life. Many things inclined him to believe that her regard for +him was really deeper than her careless levity indicated, and it +seemed now that they had been destined for each other. + +It was dusk when he reached his destination. A nondescript Italian +girl ushered him up a dark stairway and into an old-fashioned +drawing-room with high ceiling, and long windows which opened out +upon a rusty overhanging iron balcony. The room ran through to a +court in the rear, after the style of so many of these foreign-built +houses. It had once been the home of luxury and elegance, but had +long since fallen into a state of shabby decay. He was still lost in +thoughts of the important step which he contemplated when he heard +the rustle of a woman's garment behind him and rose as a tall figure +entered the room. + +"Miss Fabrizi?" he inquired. "I came to find you--" + +He paused, for the girl had given a smothered cry. The light was poor +and the shadows played tricks with his eyes. He stepped forward, +peering strangely at her, then halted. + +"Margherita!" he whispered; then in a shaking voice, "My God!" + +"Yes," she said, quietly, "it is I." + +He touched her gently, staring as if bereft of his senses. He felt +himself swept by a tremendous excitement. It struck him dumb; it shook +him; it set the room to whirling dizzily. The place was no longer ill-lit +and shabby, but illumined as if by a burst of light. And through his +mad panic of confusion he saw her standing there, calm, tawny, +self-possessed. + +"Caro Norvin! You have found me, indeed," he heard her say. "I +wondered when the day would come." + +"You--you!" he choked. His arms were hungry for her, his heart was +melting with the wildest ecstasy that had ever possessed it. She was +clad as he often remembered her, in a dress which partook of her +favorite and inseparable color, her hair shone with that unforgettable +luster; her face was the face he had dreamed of, and there was no +shock of readjustment in his recognition of her. Rather, her real +presence made the cherished mental image seem poor and weak. + +"I came to see Miss Fabrizi. Why are _you_ here?" He glanced at +the door as if expecting an interruption. + +"I am she." + +"Contessa!" + +"Hush!" She laid her fingers upon his lips. "I am no longer the +Contessa Margherita. I am Vittoria Fabrizi." + +"Then--you have been here--in New Orleans for a long time?" + +"More than a year." + +"Impossible! I--You--It's inconceivable! Why have we never met?" + +"I have seen you many times." + +"And you didn't speak? Why, oh, why, Margherita?" + +"My friend, if you care for me, for my safety and my peace of mind, +you must not use that name. Collect yourself. We will have +explanations. But first, remember, I am Vittoria Fabrizi, the nurse, a +poor girl." + +"I shall remember. I don't understand; but I shall be careful. I don't +know what it all means, why you--didn't let me know." In spite of his +effort at self-control he fell again into a delicious bewilderment. +His spirits leaped, he felt unaccountably young and exhilarated; he +laughed senselessly and yet with a deep throbbing undernote of +delight. "What are names and reasons, anyhow? What are worries and +hopes and despairs? I've found you. You live; you are safe; you are +young. I feared you were old and changed--it has seemed so long and-- +and my search dragged so. But I never ceased thinking and caring--I +never ceased hoping--" + +She laid a gentle hand upon his arm. "Come, come! You are upset. It +will all seem natural enough when you know the story." + +"Tell me everything, all at once. I can't wait." He led her to a low +French _lit de repos_ near by, and seated himself beside her. Her +nearness thrilled him with the old intoxication, and he hardly heeded +what he was saying. "Tell me how you came to be Vittoria Fabrizi +instead of Margherita Ginini; how you came to be here; how you knew of +my presence and yet--Oh, tell me everything, for I'm smothering. I'm +incoherent. I--I--" + +"First, won't you explain how you happened to come looking for me?" + +He gathered his wits to tell her briefly of Myra Nell, feeling a +renewed sense of strangeness in the fact that these two knew each +other. She made as if to rise. + +"Please!" he cried; "this is more important than Miss Warren's +predicament. She's really delighted with her adventure, you know." + +"True, she is in no danger. There is so much to tell! That which has +taken four years to live cannot be told in five minutes. I--I'm afraid +I am sorry you came." + +"Don't destroy my one great moment of gladness." + +"Remember I am Vittoria Fabrizi--" + +"I know of no other name." + +"Lucrezia is here, also, and she, too, is another. You have never seen +her. You understand?" + +He nodded. "And her name?" + +"Oliveta! We are cousins." + +"I respect your reasons for these changes. Tell me only what you +wish." + +"Oh, I have nothing to conceal," she said, relieved at his growing +calmness. "They are old family names which I chose when I gave up my +former life. You wonder why? It is part of the story. When Martel died +the Contessa Margherita died also. She could not remain at Terranova +where everything spoke of him. She was young; she began a long quest. +As you know, it was fruitless, and when in time her ideas changed she +was born to a new life." + +"You have--abandoned the search?" + +"Long ago. You told me truly that hatred and revenge destroy the soul. +I was young and I could not understand; but now I know that only good +can survive--good thoughts, good actions, good lives." + +"And is the Donna Teresa here?" + +Vittoria shook her head. "She has gone--back, perhaps, to her land of +sunshine, her flowers, and her birds and her dream-filled mountain +valleys. It was two years ago that we lost her. She could not survive +the change. I have--many regrets when I think of her." + +"You know, of course, that I returned to Sicily, and that I followed +you?" + +"Yes. And when I learned of it I knew there was but one thing to do." + +"I was unwise--disloyal there at Terranova." She met his eyes frankly, +but made no sign. "Is that why you avoided me?" + +"Ah, let us not speak of that old time. When one severs all +connections with the past and begins a new existence, one should not +look back. But I have not lost interest in you, my friend, I have +learned much from Myra Nell; seeing her was like seeing you, for she +hardly speaks of any one else. Many times we nearly met--only a moment +separated us--you came as I went, or I came in time barely to miss +you. You walked one street as I walked another; we were in the same +crowds, our elbows touched, our paths crossed, but we never chanced to +meet until this hour. Now I am almost sorry--" + +"But why--if you have forgiven me; how could you be so indifferent? +You must have known how I longed for you." + +Her look checked him on the brink of a passionate avowal. + +"Does my profession tell you nothing?" she asked. + +"You are a--nurse. What has that to do with it?" + +"Do you know that I have been with the Sisters of Mercy? I--I am one +of them." + +"Impossible!" + +"In spirit at least. I shall be one in reality, as soon as I am better +fitted." + +"A nun!" He stared at her dumbly, and his face paled. + +"I have given all I possess to the Order excepting only what I have +settled upon Oliveta. This is her house, I am her guest, her +pensioner. I am ready to take the last step--to devote my life to +mercy. Now you begin to understand my reason for waiting and watching +you in silence. You see it is very true that Margherita Ginini no +longer exists. I have not only changed my name, I am a different +woman. I am sorry," she said, doing her best to comfort him--"yes, and +it is hard for me, too. That is why I would have avoided this +meeting." + +"If you contemplate this--step," he inquired, dully, "why have you +left the hospital?" + +"I am not ready to take Orders. I have much to--overcome. Now I must +prepare Oliveta to meet you, for she has not changed as I have, and +there might be consequences." + +"What consequences?" + +"We wish to forget the past," she said, non-committally. When she +returned from her errand she saw him outlined blackly against one of +the long windows, his hands clasped behind his back, his head low as +if in meditation. He seemed unable to throw off this spell of silence +as they drove to the La Branche home, but listened contentedly to her +voice, so like the low, soft music of a cello. + +After he left her it was long before he tried to reduce his thoughts +to order. He preferred to dwell indefinitely upon the amazing fact +that he at last had found her, that he had actually seen and touched +her. Finally, when he brought himself to face the truth in its +entirety, he knew that he was deeply disappointed, and he felt that he +ought to be hopeless. Yet hope was strong in him. It blazed through +his very veins, he felt it thrill him magically. + +When he fell asleep that night it was with a smile upon his lips, for +hope had crystallized into a baseless but none the less assured belief +that he would find a way to win her. + + + + +XVI + +QUARANTINE + + + +Blake arose like a boy on Christmas morning. He thrilled to an +extravagant gladness. At breakfast the truth came to him--he was +young! For the first time he realized that he had let himself grow up +and lose his illusions; that he had become cynical, tired, prosaic, +while all the time the flame of youth was merely smouldering. Old he +was, but only as a stripling soldier is aged by battle; as for the +real, rare joys of living and loving, he had never felt them. Myra +Nell had appealed to his affection like a dear and clever child, and +helped to keep some warmth in his heart. But this was magic. The sun +had never been so bright, the air so sweet to his nostrils, the +strength so vigorous in his limbs. + +He had become so accustomed to the mysterious letters by this time +that he had grown to look for them as a matter of course, and he was +not disturbed when, on arriving at his office, he found one in his +mail. Heretofore the writer had been positive in his statements, but +now came the first hint of uncertainty. + +"I cannot find Belisario Cardi," he wrote. "His hand is over all, and +yet he is more intangible than mist. I am hedged about with +difficulties and dangers which multiply as the days pass. I can do no +more, hence the task devolves upon you. Be careful, for he is more +desperate than ever. It is your life or his. + + "ONE WHO KNOWS." + +It was as daunting a message as he could have received--the withdrawal +of assistance, the authoritative confirmation of his fears--yet +Blake's spirit rose to meet the exigency with a new courage. It +occurred to him that if Maruffi, or whoever the author was, had +exhausted his usefulness, perhaps Vittoria could help. She had spent +much time in her search for this very Cardi, and might have learned +something of value concerning him. Oliveta, too, could be of +assistance. He felt sure that the knowledge of his own peril would be +enough to enlist their aid, and he gladly seized upon the thought that +a common interest would draw him closer to the woman he loved. + +He arrived at the La Branche house early that afternoon, and found +young Rilleau sitting on a box beneath Myra Nell's window, with the +girl herself embowered as before in a frame of roses. + +"Any symptoms yet?" Norvin inquired, agreeably. + +"Thousands! I'm slowly dying." + +Lecompte nodded dolefully. "Look at her color." + +"No doubt it's the glow from those red roses that I see in her +cheeks." + +"It's fever," Miss Warren exclaimed, indignantly. She took a hand-glass +from her lap and regarded her vivid young features. "Smallpox attacks +people differently. With me the first sign is fever." She had parted her +abundant hair and swept it back from her brow in an attempt to make +herself look ill, but with the sole effect of enhancing her appearance of +abounding health. Madame la Branche's best black shawl was drawn +about her plump and dimpled shoulders. Assuming a hollow tone, she +inquired: "Do you see any other change in me?" + +"Yes. And I rather like that way of doing your hair." + +"Vittoria says I look like a picture of Sister Dolorosa, or +something." + +"Is Miss Fabrizi in?" + +"In? How could she be out? Isn't she a dear, Norvin? I knew you'd meet +some day." + +"Does she play whist?" + +"Of course not, silly. She's--nearly a nun. But we sat up in bed all +night talking. Oh, it's a comfort to have some one with you at the +last, some one in whom you can confide. I can't bear to--to soar aloft +with so much on my conscience. I've confessed _everything_." + +"What's to prevent her from catching the disease and soaring away with +you?" + +"She's a nurse. They're just like doctors, you know, they never catch +anything. Is that hideous watchman still at his post?" + +"Yes. Fast asleep, with his mouth open." + +"I hope a fly crawls in," said the girl, vindictively; then, in an +eager whisper: "Couldn't you manage to get past him? We'd have a +lovely time here for a week." + +Rilleau raised his voice in jealous protest. + +"And leave me sitting on my throne? Never! I'm giving this box-party +for you, Myra Nell." + +"Oh, you could come, too." + +"I respect the law," Norvin told her; but Lecompte continued to +complain. + +"I don't see what you're doing here at this time of day, anyhow, +Blake, Have you no business responsibilities?" + +"I'm a member of the Contagion Club; I've a right to be here." + +"We were discussing rice, old shoes, and orange blossoms when you +interrupted," the languid Mr. Rilleau continued. "Frankly, speaking as +a friend, I don't see anything in your conversation so far to interest +a sick lady. Why don't you talk to the yellow-haired nurse?" + +"I intend to." + +"Vittoria is back in the kitchen preparing my diet," said Myra Nell. +"She's making fudge, I believe. I--I seem to crave sweet things. Maybe +it's another symptom." + +"It must be," Blake acknowledged. "I'll ask her what she thinks of +it." With a glance at the slumbering guard he vaulted the low fence +and made his way around to the rear of the house. + +He heard Vittoria singing as he came into the flower-garden, a +low-pitched Sicilian love-song. He called to her, and she came to a +window, smiling down at him, spotless and fresh in her stiff uniform. + +"Do you know that you're trespassing and may get into trouble?" she +queried. + +"The watchman is asleep, and I had to speak to you." + +"No wonder he sleeps. Myra Nell holds the poor fellow responsible for +all her troubles, and those young men have nearly driven him insane." + +"Is there any danger of smallpox, really?" + +"Not the slightest. This quarantine is merely a matter of form. But +that child--" She broke into a frank, sweet laugh. "She pretends to be +horribly frightened. All the time she is acting--the little fraud!" + +Norvin flushed a bit under her gaze. + +"I had no chance to talk to you last night." + +"And you will have no chance now." Vittoria tipped her chin the +slightest bit. + +"I must see you, alone." + +"Impossible!" + +"To-night. You can slip away on some pretext or other. It is really +important." + +She regarded him questioningly. "If that is true I will try, but--I +cannot meet you at Oliveta's house. Besides, you must not go into that +quarter alone at night." + +"What do you mean?" he inquired, wondering how she could know of his +danger. + +"Because--no American is safe there now. Perhaps I can meet you on the +street yonder." + +"I'll be waiting." + +"It may be late, unless I tell Myra Nell." + +"Heaven above! She'd insist on coming, too, just because it's +forbidden." + +"Very well. Now go before you are discovered." + +During the afternoon his excitement increased deliciously, and that +evening he found himself pacing the shaded street near the La Branche +home, with the eager restlessness of a lover. + +It was indeed late when Vittoria finally appeared. + +"Myra Nell is such a chatterbox," she explained, "that I couldn't get +her to bed. Have you waited long?" + +"I dare say. I'm not sure." + +"This is very exciting, is it not?" She glanced over her shoulder up +the ill-lighted street. Rows of shade trees cast long inky blots +between the corner illuminations; the houses on either side sat well +back in their yards, increasing the sense of isolation. "It is quite a +new experience for me." + +"For me, too." + +"I hope we're not seen. Signore Norvin Blake and a trained nurse! Oh, +the comment!" + +"There's a bench near by where we can sit. Passers-by will take us for +servants." + +"You are the butler, I am the maid," she laughed. + +"I am glad you can laugh," he told her. "You were very sad, there at +Terranova." + +"I've learned the value of a smile. Life is full of gladness if we can +only bring ourselves to see it. Now tell me the meaning of this. I +knew it must be important or I would not have come." Back of the bench +upon which she had seated herself a jessamine vine depended, filling +the air with perfume; the night was warm and still and languorous; +through the gloom she regarded him with curiosity. + +"I hate to begin," he said. "I dread to speak of unpleasant things--to +you. I wish we might just sit here and talk of whatever we +pleased." + +"We cannot sit here long on any account. But let me guess. It is your +work against--those men." + +"Exactly. You know the history of our struggle with the Mafia?" + +"Everything." + +"I am leading a hard fight, and I think you can help me." + +"Why do you think so?" she asked, in a low voice. "I have given up my +part. I have no desire for revenge." + +"Nor have I. I do not wish to harm any man; but I became involved in +this through a desire to see justice done, and I have reached a point +where I cannot stop or go back. It started with the arrest of Gian +Narcone. You know how Donnelly was killed. They took his life for +Narcone's, and he, too, was my--dear friend." + +"All this is familiar to me," she said, in a strained tone. + +"I will tell you something that no one knows but myself, I have a +friend among the Mafiosi, and it is he, not I, who has brought the +murderers of Mr. Donnelly to an accounting." + +"You know him?" + +"Yes. At least I think I do." + +"His--name?" She was staring at him oddly. + +"I feel bound not to reveal it even to you. He has told me many +things, among them that Belisario Cardi is alive, is here, and that it +is he who worked all this evil." + +"What has all this to do with me?" she inquired. "Have I not told you +that I gave my search into other hands?" + +"It was Cardi who killed--one whom we both loved, one for whose life I +would have given my own; it was Cardi who destroyed my next-best +friend, a simple soul who lived for nothing but his duty. Now he has +threatened my life also--does that count for nothing with you?" + +She leaned forward, searching his face earnestly. "You are a brave +man. You should go away where he cannot harm you." + +"I would like very much to," he confessed, "but I am too great a +coward to run away." + +"And why do you tell me this?" + +"I need your help. My mysterious friend can do no more; he has said +so. I'm not equal to it alone." + +"Oh," she cried, as if yielding to a feeling long suppressed, "I did +so want to be rid of it all, and now you are in danger--the greatest +danger. Won't you give it up?" + +He shook his head, puzzled at her vehemence. "I don't wish to drag you +into it against your will, but Oliveta lives there among her +countrypeople. She must know many things which I, as an outsider, +could never learn. I--need help." + +There was a long silence before the girl said: + +"Yes, I will help, for I am still the same woman you knew in Sicily. I +am still full of hatred. I would give my life to convict Martel's +assassins; but I am fighting myself. That is why I have gone to live +with Oliveta until I have conquered and am ready to become a Sister." + +"Please don't say that." + +"Oliveta, you know, is alone," she went on, with forced composure, +"and so I watch over her. She is to be married soon, and when she is +safe, then I think I can return to the Sisters and live as I long to. +It will be a good match, much better than I ever hoped for, and she +loves, which is even more blessed to contemplate." Vittoria laid her +hands impulsively upon his arm. "Meanwhile I cannot refuse such aid as +I can give you, for you have already suffered too much through me. You +_have_ suffered, have you not?" + +"It has turned my hair gray," he laughed, trying not to show the depth +of his feeling. "But now that I know you are safe and well and happy, +nothing seems to matter. Does Myra Nell know who you are?" + +"No one knows save you and Oliveta. If that child even dreamed--" She +lifted her slender hands in an eloquent gesture. "My secret would be +known in an hour. Now I must go, for even housemaids must observe the +proprieties." + +"It's late. I think I had better see you safely home." + +"I dare say our watchman has found himself a comfortable bed--" + +"The slumbers of night-watchmen are notoriously deep." + +"And Papa La Branche has finished his solitaire. There is no danger." + +No one was in sight as they stole in through the driveway to the +servants' door. She gave him her hand, and he pressed it closely, +whispering: + +"When shall I see you again?" + +"After the quarantine. I can do nothing until then." + +"You will go back to Oliveta's house?" + +"Yes, but you must never come there, even in daylight." She thought +for a moment while he still retained her hand. "I will instruct you +later--" She broke off suddenly, and at the same instant Blake heard a +stir in the darkness behind him. + +Vittoria drew him quickly into the black shadows of the rear porch, +where they stood close together, afraid to move until the man had +passed. The kitchen gallery was shielded by a latticework covered with +vines, and Blake felt reasonably safe within its shelter. He was +beginning to breathe easier when a voice barely an arm's-length away +inquired, gruffly: + +"Who's there?" + +He would have given something handsome to be out of this foolish +predicament, which he knew must be very trying to his companion. But +the fates were against him. To his horror, the man struck a match and +mounting the steps to the porch flashed it directly into his face. + +"Good evening," said Blake, with rather a weak attempt at assurance. + +"What are you doing here?" the guard demanded. "Don't you know that +this house is quarantined?" + +"I do. Kindly lower your voice; there are people asleep." + +The fellow's eyes took in the girl in her stiffly starched uniform +before the match burned out and darkness engulfed them once more. + +"I'm not a burglar." + +"Humph! I don't know whether you are or not." + +"I assure you," urged Vittoria. + +"Strike another match and I'll prove to you that I'm not dangerous." +When the light flared up once more Norvin selected a card from his +case and handed it to the watchman. "I am Norvin Blake, president of +the Cotton Exchange." + +But this information failed of the desired effect. + +"Oh, I know you, but this ain't exactly the right time to be calling +on a lady." + +Vittoria felt her companion's muscles stiffen. + +"I will explain my presence later," he said, stiffly; then, turning to +Vittoria, "I am sorry I disturbed this estimable man. Good night." + +"Just a minute," the watchman broke in. "You needn't say good night." + +"What do you mean?" + +"This house is quarantined for smallpox." + +"Well?" + +"Nobody can come or go without the doctor's permission." + +"I understand that." + +"Now that you're here, I reckon you'll stay." + +Miss Fabrizi uttered a smothered exclamation. + +"You're crazy!" said Blake, angrily. + +"Yes? Well, that's my instructions." + +"I haven't been inside." + +"That don't make any difference; the lady has." + +"It's absurd. You can't force--" + +"'Sh-h!" breathed Vittoria. + +Some one had entered the kitchen at their back. A light flashed +through the window, the door opened, and Mr. La Branche, clad in a +rusty satin dressing-gown and carpet slippers, stood revealed, a lamp +in his hand. + +"I thought I heard voices," he said. "What is the trouble?" + +"There's no trouble at all, sir," Blake protested, then found himself +absurdly embarrassed. + +Vittoria and the guard both began to speak at once, and at length she +broke into laughter, saying: + +"Poor Mr. Blake, I fear he has been exposed to contagion. It was +necessary for him to talk with me on a matter of importance, and now +this man tells him he cannot leave." + +But from Papa La Branche's expression it was evident that he saw +nothing humorous in the situation. + +"To talk with you! At this hour!" + +"I'm working for the Board of Health, and those are my orders," +declared outraged authority. + +"It was imperative that I see Miss Fabrizi; the blame for this +complication is entirely mine," Norvin assured the old creole. + +The representative of the Board of Health inquired, loudly: "Didn't +the doctors tell you that nobody could come or go, Mr. La Branche?" + +"They did." + +"But, my dear man, this is no ordinary case. Now that I have +explained, I shall go, first apologizing to Mr. La Branche for +disturbing him." + +"No, you won't" + +The master of the house stepped aside, holding his light on high. + +"Miss Fabrizi is my guest," he said, quietly, "so no explanations are +necessary. This man is but doing his duty, and, therefore, Mr. Blake, +I fear I shall have to offer you the poor hospitality of my roof until +the law permits you to leave." + +"Impossible, sir! I--" + +"I regret that we have never met before; but you are welcome, and I +shall do my best to make you comfortable." He waved his hand +commandingly toward the open door. + +"Thank you, but I can't accept, really." + +"I fear that you have no choice." + +"But the idea is ridiculous, preposterous! I'm a busy man; I can't +shut myself up this way for a week or more. Besides, I couldn't allow +myself to be forced upon strangers in this manner." + +"If you are a good citizen, you will respect the law," said La +Branche, coldly. + +"Bother the law! I have obligations! Why--the very idea is absurd! +I'll see the health officers and explain at once--" + +The old gentleman, however, still waited, while the watchman took his +place at the top of the steps as if determined to do his duty, come, +what might. + +Norvin found Vittoria's eyes upon him, and saw that beneath her +self-possession she was intensely embarrassed. Evidently there was +nothing to do now but accept the situation and put an end to the painful +scene at any sacrifice. Once inside, he could perhaps set himself right; +but for the present no explanations were possible. He might have braved +the Board of Health, but he could not run away from Papa La Branche's +accusing eye. Bowing gravely, he said: + +"You are quite right, sir, and I thank you for your hospitality. If +you will lead the way, I will follow" + +The two culprits entered the big, empty kitchen, then followed the +rotund little figure which waddled ahead of them into the front part +of the house. + + + + +XVII + +AN OBLIGATION IS MET + + + +Montegut La Branche paused in the front hall at the foot of the +stairs. + +"It is late" he said; "no doubt Mademoiselle wishes to retire." + +"I would like to offer a word of explanation," Norvin ventured, but +Vittoria interposed, quietly: + +"Mr. La Branche is right--explanations are unnecessary." Bowing +graciously to them both, she mounted the stairs into the gloom above, +followed by the old Creole's polite voice: + +"A pleasant sleep, Mademoiselle, and happy dreams." Leading the way +into the library, he placed the lamp upon a table, then, turning to +his unbidden guest, inquired, coldly, "Well?" + +His black eyes were flashing underneath his gray brows, and he +presented a fierce aspect despite his gown, which resembled a Mother +Hubbard, and his slippers, which flapped as he walked. + +"I must apologize for my intrusion," said Norvin. "I wish you to +understand how it came about." + +"In view of your attentions to my wife's cousin, it was unfortunate +that you should have selected this time, this place, for your--er-- +adventure." + +"Exactly! I'm wondering how to spare Miss Warren any annoyance." + +"I fear that will be impossible. She must know the truth." + +"She must not know; she must not guess." + +"M'sieu!" exclaimed the old man. "My wife and I can take no part in +your intrigues. Myra Nell is too well bred to show resentment at your +conduct, no matter what may be her feelings." + +Norvin flushed with exasperation, then suddenly felt ashamed of +himself. Surely he could trust this chivalrous old soul with a part of +the truth. Once his scruples were satisfied, the man's very sense of +honor would prevent him from even thinking of what did not concern +him. + +"I think you will understand better," he said, "when you have heard me +through. I can't tell you everything, for I am not at liberty to do +so. But you know, perhaps, that I am connected with the Committee of +Justice." + +"I do." + +"You don't know the full extent of the task with which I am charged, +however." + +"Perhaps not." + +"Its gravity may be understood when you know that I have been marked +for the same fate as Chief Donnelly." + +The old man started. + +"My labors have taken me into many quarters. I seek information +through many channels. It was upon this business, in a way, that I +came to see Miss Fabrizi." + +"I do not follow you." + +"She is a Sicilian. She knows much which would be of value to the +Committee and to me. It was necessary for me to see her alone and +secretly. If the truth were known it would mean her--life, perhaps." + +The Creole's bearing altered instantly. + +"Say no more. I believe you to be a man of honor, and I apologize for +my suspicions." + +"May I trust you to respect this confidence?" + +"It is sealed." + +"But this doesn't entirely relieve the situation. I can't explain to +Madame La Branche or to Miss Myra Nell even as much as I've explained +to you." + +"Some day will you relieve me from my promise of secrecy?" queried the +old man, with an eager, bird-like glance from Ms bright eyes. + +"Assuredly. As soon as we have won our fight against the Mafia." + +"Then I will lie for you, and confess later. I have never lied to my +wife, M'sieu--except upon rare occasions," Mr. La Branche chuckled +merrily. "And even then only about trifles. So, the result? Absolute +trust; supreme confidence on her part. A happy state for man and wife, +is it not? Ha! I am a very good liar, an adept, as you shall see, for +I am not calloused by practice and therefore liable to forgetfulness. +With me a lie is always fresh in my mind; it is a matter of absorbing +interest, hence I do not forget myself. Heaven knows the excitement of +nursing an innocent deceit and of seeing it grow and flower under my +care will be most welcome, for the monotony of this abominable +confinement--But I must inquire, do you play piquet?" + +"I am rather good at it," Norvin confessed, whereat Papa La Branche +seemed about to embrace him. + +"You are sent from heaven!" he declared. "You deliver me from +darkness. Thirty-seven games of Napoleon to-day! Think of it! I was +dealing the thirty-eighth when you came. But piquet! Ah, that is a +game, even though my angel wife abominates it. We have still five days +of this hideous imprisonment, so let us agree to an hour before lunch, +an hour before dinner, then--um-,--perhaps two hours in the evening at +a few cents a game, eh? You agree, my friend?" The little man peered +up timidly. "Perhaps--but no, I dare say you are sleepy, and it +_is_ late." + +"I should enjoy a game or two right now," Norvin falsified. "But +first, don't you think we'd better rehearse our explanation of my +presence?" + +"A good idea. You came to see me upon business. I telephoned, and you +came like a good friend, then--let me see, I was so overjoyed to see a +new face that I rushed forth to greet you, and behold! that scorpion, +that loathsome reptile outside pronounced you infected. He forced you +to enter, even against my protestations. It was all my fault. I am +desolated with regrets. Eh? How is that? You see nature designed me +for a rogue." + +"Excellent! But what is our important business?" + +"True. Since I retired from active affairs I have no business. That is +awkward, is it not? May I ask in what line you are engaged?" + +"I am a cotton factor." + +"Then I shall open an account with you. I shall give you money to +invest. Come, there need be no deceit about that; I shall write you a +check at once." + +"That's hardly necessary, so long as we understand each other." + +But Mr. La Branche insisted, saying: + +"One lie is all that I dare undertake. I have told two at the same +time, but invariably they clashed and disaster resulted. There! I +trust you to make use of the money as you think best. But enough! What +do women know of business? It is a mysterious word to them. Now-- +piquet!" He dragged Norvin to a seat at a table, then trotted away in +search of cards, his slippers clap-clapping at every step as if in +gleeful applause. "Shall we cut for deal, M'sieu? Ah!" He sighed +gratefully as he won, and began to shuffle. "With four hours of piquet +every day, and a lie upon my conscience, I feel that I shall be happy +in spite of this execrable smallpox." + +Myra Nell's emotions may be imagined when, on the following morning, +she learned who had broken through the cordon while she slept. + +"Lordy! Lordy!" she exclaimed, with round eyes. "He said he'd do it; +but I didn't think he really would." + +She had flounced into Vittoria's room to gossip while she combed her +hair. + +"Mr. La Branche says it's all his fault, and he's terribly grieved," +Miss Fabrizi told her. "Now, now! Your eyes are fairly popping out." + +"Wouldn't your eyes pop out if the handsomest, the richest, the +bravest man in New Orleans deliberately took his life in his hands to +see you and be near you?" + +"But he says it was important business which brought him." Vittoria +smiled guiltily. + +"Tell that to your granny! You don't know men as I do. Have you really +seen him? I'm not _dreaming_?" + +"I have seen him, with these very eyes, and if you were not such a +lazy little pig you'd have seen him, too. Shall you take your +breakfast in your room, as usual?" Vittoria's eyes twinkled. + +"Don't tease me!" Miss Warren exclaimed, with a furious blush. "I--I +love to tease other people, but I can't stand it myself. Breakfast in +my room, indeed! But of course I shall treat him with freezing +politeness." + +"Why should you pretend to be offended?" + +"Don't you understand? This is bound to cause gossip. Why, the idea of +Norvin Blake, the handsomest, the richest--" + +"Yes, yes." + +"The idea of his getting himself quarantined in the same house with +_me_, and our being here together for days--maybe for _months!_ Why, +it will create the loveliest scandal. I'll never dare hold up my head again +in public, _never_. You see how it must make me feel. I'm +compromised." Myra Nell undertook to show horror in her features, but +burst into a gale of laughter. + +"Do you care for him very much?" + +"I'm crazy about him! Why, dearie, after _this_--we're--we're +almost married! Now watch me show him how deeply I'm offended." + +But when she appeared in the dining-room, late as usual, her frigidity +was not especially marked. On the contrary, her face rippled into one +smile after another, and seizing Blake by both hands, she danced +around him, singing: + +"You did it! You did it! You did it! Hurrah for a jolly life in the +pest-house!" + +Madame La Branche was inclined to be shocked at this behavior, but +inasmuch as Papa Montegut was beaming angelically upon the two young +people, she allowed herself to be mollified. + +"I couldn't believe Vittoria," Myra Nell told Norvin. "Don't you know +the danger you run?" + +Mr. La Branche exclaimed: "I am desolated at the consequences of my +selfishness! I did not sleep a wink. I can never atone." + +"Quite right," his wife agreed." You must have been mad, Montegut. It +was criminal of you to rush forth and embrace him in that manner." + +"But, delight of my soul, the news he bore! The joy of seeing him! It +unmanned me." The Creole waved his hands wildly, as if at a loss for +words. + +"Oh, you fibber! Norvin told me he'd never met you," said Myra Nell. + +"Eh! Impossible! We are associates in business; business of a most +important--But what does that term signify to you, my precious +ladybird? Nothing! Enough, then, to say that he saved me from +disaster. Naturally I was overjoyed and forgot myself." + +His wife inquired, timidly, "Have your affairs gone disastrously?" + +"Worse than that! Ruin stared us in the face until _he_ came. Our +deliverer!" + +Blake flushed at this fulsome extravagance, particularly as he saw +Myra Nell making faces at him. + +"Fortunately everything is arranged now," he assured his hostess. But +this did not satisfy Miss Warren, who, with apparent innocence, +questioned the two men until Papa La Branche began to bog and flounder +in his explanations. Fortunately for the men, she was diverted for the +moment by discovering that the table was set for only four. + +"Oh, we need another place," she exclaimed, "for Vittoria!" + +The old lady said, quietly: "No, dear. While we were alone it was +permissible, but it is better now in this way." + +Myra Nell's ready acquiescence was a shock to Norvin, arguing, as it +did, that these people regarded the Countess Margherita as an +employee. Could it be that they were so utterly blind? + +He was allowed little time for such thoughts, however, since Myra Nell +set herself to the agreeable task of unmasking her lover and +confounding Montegut La Branche. But Cousin Althea was not of a +suspicious nature, and continued to beam upon her husband, albeit a +trifle vaguely. Then when breakfast was out of the way the girl added +to Norvin's embarrassment by flirting with him so outrageously that he +was glad to flee to Papa Montegut's piquet game. + +At the first opportunity he said to Vittoria: "I feel dreadfully about +this. Why, they seem to think you're a--a--servant! It's unbearable!" + +"That is part of my work; I am accustomed to it." She smiled. + +"Then you _have_ changed. But if they knew the truth, how +differently they'd act!" + +"They must never suspect; more depends upon it than you know." + +"I feel horribly guilty, all the same." + +"It can make no difference what they think of me. I'm afraid, however, +that you have--made it--difficult for Myra Nell." + +"So it appears. I didn't think of her when I entered this delightful +prison." + +"You had no choice." + +"It wasn't altogether that. I wanted to be near you, Vittoria." + +Her glance was level and cool, her voice steady. "It was chivalrous to +try to spare me the necessity of explaining. The situation was trying; +but we were both to blame, and now we must make the best of it. Myra +Nell's misunderstanding is complete, and she will be unhappy unless +you devote yourself to her." + +"I simply can't. I think I'll keep to myself as much as possible." + +"You don't know that girl," Vittoria said. "You think she is frivolous +and inconsequent, that she has the brightness of a sunbeam and no more +substance; but you are mistaken. She is good and true and steadfast +underneath, and she can feel deeply." + +Blake found that it was impossible to isolate himself. Mr. La Branche +clung to him like a drowning man; his business affairs called him +repeatedly to the telephone; Myra Nell appropriated him with all the +calm assurance of a queen, and Madame La Branche insisted upon seeing +personally to his every want. The only person of whom he saw little +was Vittoria Fabrizi. + +His disappearance, of course, required much explaining and long +conversations with his office, with his associates, and with police +headquarters, where his plight was regarded as a great joke. This was +all very well; but there were other and unforeseen consequences. + +Bernie Dreux heard of the affair with blank amazement, which turned +into something resembling rage. His duty, however, was plain. He +packed a valise and set out for the quarantined house like a man +marching to his execution; for he had a deathly horror of disease, and +smallpox was beyond compare the most loathsome. + +But the Health Department had given strict orders, and he was turned +away; nay, he was rudely repulsed. Crushed, humiliated, he retired to +his club, and there it was that Rilleau found him, steeped in +melancholy and a very insidious brand of Kentucky Bourbon. + +When Lecompte accused Blake of breaking the rules of the game, the +little bachelor rose resolutely to his sister's defense. + +"Norvin's got a perfect right to protect her," he lied, "and I honor +him for it." + +"You mean he's engaged to her?" Rilleau inquired, blankly. + +Bernie nodded. + +"Well, so am I, so are Delevan and Mangny, and the others." + +"Not this way." Mr. Dreux's alcoholic flush deepened. "He thought she +was in danger, so he flew to her side. Mighty unselfish to sacrifice +his business and brave the disease. He did it with my consent, +y'understand? When he asked me, I said, 'Norvin, my boy, she needs +you.' So he went. Unselfish is no word for it; he's a man of honor, a +hero." + +Mr. Rilleau's gloom thickened, and he, too, ordered the famous +Bourbon. He sighed. + +"I'd have done the same thing; I offered to, and I'm no hero. I +suppose that ends us. It's a great disappointment, though. I hoped-- +during Carnival week that she'd--Well, I wanted her for my real +queen." + +Bernie undertook to clap the speaker on the shoulder and admonish him +to buck up; but his eye was wavering and his aim so uncertain that he +knocked off Mr. Rilleau's hat. With due apologies he ran on: + +"She couldn't have been queen at all, only for him. He made it +possible." + +"I had as much to say about it as he did." + +Bernie whispered: "He lent me the money, y'understand? It was all +right, under the circumstances, everything being settled but the date, +y'understand?" + +Rilleau rose at last, saying: "You're all to be congratulated. He is +the best fellow in New Orleans, and there's only one man I'd rather +see your sister marry than him; that's me. Now I'm going to select a +present before the rush commences. What would you think of an onyx +clock with gold cupids straddling around over it?" + +"Fine! I'm sorry, old man--I like you, y'understand?" Bernie upset his +chair in rising to embrace his friend, then catching sight of August +Kulm, who entered at the moment, he made his way to him and repeated +his explanations. + +Mr. Kulm was silent, attentive, despairing, and spoke vaguely of +suicide, whereupon Dreux set himself to the task of drowning this +Teutonic instinct in the flowing bowl. + +"I don't know what has happened to the boys," Myra Nell complained to +Norvin, on the second day after his arrival. "Lecompte was going to +read me the Rubaiyat, and Raymond Cline promised me a bunch of +orchids; but nobody has shown up." + +"It's jealousy," he said, lightly. + +"I suppose so. Of course it was nice of you to compromise me this way-- +it's delicious, in fact--but I didn't think it would scare off the +others." + +"You think I have compromised you?" + +"You know you have, _terribly_. I'm engaged to all of them-- +everybody, in fact, except you--" + +"But they know my presence here is unintentional." + +"Oh! _Is_ it, really?" She laughed. + +"Don't you believe it is?" + +"Goodness! Don't spoil all my pleasure. If ever I saw two cringing, +self-conscious criminals, it's you and Papa Montegut. Men are so +deceitful. Heigh-ho! I thought this was going to be splendid, but you +play cards all day with Mr. La Branche while I die of loneliness." + +"What would you like me to do?" he faltered. + +"I don't know. It's very dull. Couldn't you sally forth and drag in +Lecompte or Murray or Raymond?" She looked up with eyes beaming. +"Bernie was furious, wasn't he?" + +Mr. La Branche came trotting in with the evening newspaper in his +hand. "It's in the paper," he chuckled. "Those reporters get +everything." + +"What's in the paper?" Myra Nell snatched the sheet from his hand and +read eagerly as he went trotting out again with his slippers +applauding every step. "Oh, Lordy!" + +Blake read over her shoulder, and his face flushed. + +"Norvin, we're really, truly engaged, now. See!" After a pause, "And +you've never even asked me." + +There was only one thing to say. + +"Myra Nell," he began, "I want you--Will you--" + +"Oh, you goose, you're not taking a cold shower!" + +"Will you do me the honor to be my wife?" + +She burst into delightful laughter. "So you actually have the courage +to propose? Shall I take time to think it over, or shall I answer +now?" + +"Now, by all means." + +"Very well, of course I--won't." + +"Why not?" he exclaimed, with a start. + +"The idea! You don't mean it!" + +"I do." + +"Why, Norvin, you're old enough to be my father." + +"Oh, no, I'm not." + +"Do you think I could marry a man with gray hair?" + +"It all gets gray after a while." + +"No. I'll be engaged to you, but I'll never marry any one, never. That +would spoil all the fun. This very thing shows how stupid it must be; +the mere rumor has scared the others away," + +"You're a Mormon." + +"I'm not. I'll tell you what I'll do; if I ever marry any one, I'll +marry you." + +"That's altogether too indefinite." + +"I don't see it. Meanwhile we're engaged, aren't we?" + +"If that's the case--" He reached uncertainly for her hand, and +pressed it. "I--I'm very happy!" + +She waited an instant, watching him shyly, then said: "Now I must show +this to Vittoria. But--please don't look so frightened." + +The next instant she was gone. When Miss Fabrizi entered her room, a +half-hour later, it was to find her with her eyes red from weeping. + +As for Norvin, he had risen to the occasion as best he could. He loved +Myra Nell sincerely, tenderly, in a big-brotherly way; he would have +gone to any lengths to serve her, yet he could not feel toward her as +he felt toward Vittoria Fabrizi. He nerved himself to stand by his +word, even though it meant the greatest sacrifice. But the thought +agonized him. + +Nor was he made more easy as time went on, for Mr. and Mrs. La Branche +took it for granted that he was their cousin's affianced lover; and +while the girl herself now bewildered him with her shy, inviting +coquetry, or again berated him for placing her in an unwelcome +position, he could never determine how much she really cared. + +When the quarantine was finally lifted he walked out with feelings +akin to those of a prisoner who has been reprieved. + + + + +XVIII + +BELISARIO CARDI + + + +After his enforced idleness Blake was keen to resume his task, yet +there was little for him to do save study the one big problem which +lay at the root of the whole matter. + +The evidence against the prisoners was in good shape; they were +indicted, and the trial date would soon be set. They had hired +competent lawyers and were preparing for a desperate fight. Where the +necessary money came from nobody seemed to know, although it was +generally felt that a powerful influence was at work to free them. The +district attorney expressed the strongest hopes of obtaining +convictions; but there came disturbing rumors of alibis for the +accused, of manufactured evidence, and of overwhelming surprises to be +sprung at the last moment. Detectives were shadowed by other +detectives, lawyers were spied upon, their plans leaked out; witnesses +for the State disappeared. Opposing the authorities was a master hand, +at once so cunning and so bold as to threaten a miscarriage of +justice. + +This could be none other then Belisario Cardi, yet he seemed no nearer +discovery than ever. Norvin had no idea how to proceed. He could only +wait for some word from his new ally, Vittoria Fabrizi. It might be +that she would find a clue, and he feared to complicate matters by any +premature or ill-judged action. Meanwhile, he encountered the results +of Bernie Dreux's garrulity. He found himself generally regarded as +Myra Nell's accepted suitor, and, of course, could make no denial. +But when he telephoned to the girl herself and asked when he might +call he was surprised to hear her say: + +"You can't call at all Why, you've ruined all my enjoyment as it is! +There hasn't been a man in this whole neighborhood since I came home. +Even the policeman takes the other side of the street." + +"All the more reason why I should come." + +"I won't have you hanging around until I get my Carnival dresses +fitted. Oh, Norvin, you ought to see them. There's one-white brocaded +peau de soie, all frills and rosebuds; the bodice is trimmed with +pearl passementerie, and it's a dear." After a moment's hesitation she +added: "Norvin dear, what does it cost to rent the front page of a +newspaper?" + +"I don't know. I don't think it can be done." + +"I wondered if you couldn't do it and--deny our engagement." + +"Do you want to break it?" He could hardly keep the eagerness out of +his voice. + +"Oh, no! But I'd like to deny it until after the Carnival. Now don't +be offended. I'll never get my dances filled if I'm as good as married +to you. Imagine a queen with an empty programme. I just love you to +pieces, of course, but I can't allow our engagement to interfere with +the success of the Carnival, can I?" + +"Don't you know this is a thing we can't joke about?" + +"Of course I do. It has taught me a good lesson." + +"What?" + +"I'll never be engaged to another man." + +"Well! I should hope not. Do you intend to marry me, Myra Nell?" + +"I don't know. Sometimes I think I will, then again I'm afraid +nobody'd ever come to see me if I did. I'll get old, like you." + +"I'm not old." + +"We'd both have gray hair and--I can't talk any more. Here comes +Bernie with an armful of dresses and a mouthful of pins. If he coughs +I'll be all alone in the world. No, you can't see me for a week. I +don't even want to hear from you except--" + +"What?" + +"Well, the strain of dress-fitting is tremendous. I'm nearly always +hungry--ravenous for nourishment." + +"You mean you're out of candy, I suppose?" + +"Practically. There's hardly a whole piece left. They've all been +nibbled." + +Blake did not know whether to feel amused or ashamed. He was relieved +at the girl's apparent carelessness, yet this half-serious engagement +had put Myra Nell in a new light. He could not think of their +relations as really unchanged, and this was inevitable since his +sentiment for her was genuine. The grotesqueness of the affair--even +Myra Nell's own attitude toward it--seemed a violation of something +sacred. + +But nothing could subdue the joy he felt in his growing intimacy with +Vittoria, whom he managed to see frequently, although she never +permitted him to come to Oliveta's house. Little by little her reserve +melted, and more and more she seemed to forget her intention of +devoting herself to a religious life, while fears for her friend's +safety appealed to the deep mother instinct which had remained latent +in her. + +She was unable, however, even with Oliveta's assistance, to put any +information in his way, and Blake could think of no better plan than +to try once more to sound Caesar Maruffi. If Caesar had really written +the letters, it would be strange if he could not be induced to go +farther, despite his obvious fear of Cardi. It was unbelievable that a +man who knew so much about the Mafia was really in ignorance of its +leader's identity, and Blake was convinced that if he acted +diplomatically and seized the right occasion he could bring the fellow +to unbosom himself. + +Discarding all thought of his own safety, he went often to the Red +Wing Club. But he found Caesar wary, and he dared not be too abrupt. +Time and again he was upon the verge of speaking out, but something +invariably prevented, some inner voice warned him that the man's mood +was unpropitious, that his extravagant caution was not yet satisfied. +He allowed the Sicilian to feel him out to his heart's content, and, +at last, seeing that he made no real progress, he set out one evening +resolved to risk all in an effort to reach some definite +understanding. + +He was delayed in reaching the foreign quarter, and the dinner-hour +was nearly over when he arrived at the cafe. Maruffi was there, as +usual, but he had finished his meal and was playing cards with some of +his countrymen, swarthy, eager-faced, voluble fellows whose chatter +filled the place. They greeted Norvin politely as he seated himself +near by, then went on with their amusement as he ordered and ate his +dinner. He was near enough to hear their talk, and to catch an +occasional glimpse of the game, so that he was not long in finding +that they played for considerable stakes. They were as earnest as +school-boys, and he watched their ever-changing expressions with +interest, particularly when he discovered that Maruffi was in hard +luck. The big Sicilian sat bulked up in a corner, black, silent, and +sinister, his scowling brows bespeaking his rage. Occasionally he +growled a curse, then sent the waiter scurrying with an order. Other +Italians were drawn to the scene and crowded about the players. + +When Norvin had finished his meal he sat back to smoke and idly sip +his claret, thinking he would wait until the game broke up, so that he +might get Caesar to himself and perhaps put the issue to the test. He +began to study the fellow's face, thinking what force, what passion +lay in it, puzzling his brain for some means of enlisting that energy +upon his side. But as fortune continued to run against Maruffi, he +began to fear that the time was not favorable. + +What a picture those laughing, hawk-like men formed, surrounding the +black, resentful merchant! Martel Savigno could have drawn a group +like that, he mused, for he had a rare appreciation of his own people, +no matter what might be said of his talent. He had done some very +creditable Sicilian sketches; in fact, Norvin had one framed in his +room. What a pity the Count had been stricken in the first years of +his promise! What a ruthless hand it was that had destroyed him! What +a giant mind it was which had kept all Sicily in terror and scaled its +lips! + +In that very group yonder there probably was more than one who knew +the evil genius in person, and yet they were held in a thralldom of +fear which no offer of riches could break. What manner of man was this +Cardi? What hellish methods did he follow to wield such despotism? +Those card-players were impudent, unscrupulous blades, as ready to +gamble with death as with their jingling coins, and yet they dared not +lift a hand against him. + +Blake saw that the game had reached a point of unusual intensity; the +players were deeply engrossed; the spectators had fallen silent, with +bright eyes fixed upon the mounting stakes. When the tension broke +Norvin saw that Caesar had lost again, and smiled at the excited +conversation which ensued. There was a babble of laughter, of curses, +of expostulation, shafts of badinage flew at the Sicilian merchant. In +the midst of it he raised a huge, hairy fist and brought it down, +smiting the table until the coins, the cards, and the glasses leaped. +His face was distorted; his voice was thick with passion. + +[Illustration: "SILENZIO" HE GROWLED, "I PLAY MY OWN GAME, AND I +LOSE"] + +"_Silenzio!_" he growled, with such imperative fury that the +others fell silent; then hoarsely: "I play my own game, and I lose. +That is all! You are like old wives with your advice. It is my +accursed luck, which will some day bring me to the gallows. Now deal!" + +That same nausea which invariably seized Norvin Blake in moments of +extreme excitement swept over him now. His whole body went cold, the +knot of figures faded from his vision, he heard the noisy voices as if +from a great distance. A giant hand had reached forth and gripped him, +halting his breath and his heart-beats. The room swam dizzily, in a +haze. + +He found, an instant later, that he had risen and was gripping the +table in front of him as if for support. He had upset his goblet of +wine, and a wide red stain was spreading over the white cloth. To him +it was the blood of Martel Savigno. He stared down at it dazedly, his +eyes glazed with horror and surprise. + +As the crimson splotch widened his heart took up its halting labors, +then began to race, faster and faster, until he felt himself +smothering; his frame was swept with tremors. Then the raucous voices +grew louder and louder, mounting into a roar, as if he were coming out +from a swoon, and all the time that red blotch grew until he could see +no other color; it blurred the room and the quarreling gamblers; it +steeped the very air. He was still deathly sick, as only those men are +whose blood sours, whose bones and muscles disintegrate at the touch +of fear. + +He did not remember leaving the place, but found the cool night air +fanning fresh upon his face as he lurched blindly down the dark +street, within his eyes the picture of a scowling, black-browed +visage; in his ears that hoarse, unforgettable command, +_"Silenzio!"_ + +A single word, burdened with rage and venom, had carried him back over +the years to a certain moment and a certain spot on a Sicilian +mountain-side. The peculiar arrogance, the harsh vibrations of that +voice permitted no mistake. He saw again a ghost-gray road walled in +with fearful shadows, and at his feet two silent, twisted bodies dimly +outlined against the dust. A match flared and Ricardo Ferara grinned +up into the night beneath his grizzled mustache, Narcone, the butcher, +his hands still wet, was whining for the blood of the American. He +heard Martel Savigno call, heard the young Count's voice rise and +break in a shriek, heard a thunder of hoofs retreating into the +blackness. Sicilian men were peering into his face, talking excitedly; +through their chatter came that same voice, imperative, furious, +filled with rage, and it cried: + +"_Silenzio!_" + +There was no mistaking it. The veil was ripped at last. + +Blake recalled the dim outlines of that burly, bull-necked figure as +it had leaped into brief silhouette against the glare of the blazing +match, that night so long ago, and then he cried out aloud in the +empty street as he realized how complete was the identification. He +remembered Donnelly's vague prediction five minutes before he was +stricken: + +"If what I suspect is true, it will cause a sensation," + +A sensation indeed! The surprise, the realization of consequences, was +too overpowering to permit coherent thought. This Maruffi, or Cardi, +or whoever he might prove to be, was tremendous. No wonder he had been +hard to uncover. No wonder his power was absolute. He had the genius +of a great general, a great politician, and a great criminal, all in +one, and he was as pitiless as a panther, more deadly than a moccasin. +What influence had perverted such intellect into a weapon of iniquity? +What evil of the blood, what lesion of the brain, had distorted his +instincts so monstrously? + +Caesar Maruffi, rich, respected, honored! It was unbelievable. + +Blake halted after a time and took note of the surroundings into +which his feet had led him. He was deep in the foreign quarter, and +found, with a start, that he had been heading for Vittoria Fabrizi's +dwelling as if guided by some extraneous power. By a strong exercise +of will he calmed himself. What he needed above all things was +counsel, some one with whom he could share this amazing discovery. +Perhaps his presence here was a sign; at any rate, he decided to +follow his first impulse, so hastened onward. + +Inside the house his brain cleared in a measure, as he waited; but his +agitation must have left plain traces, for no sooner had Vittoria +appeared than she exclaimed: + +"My friend! Something has happened." + +He rose and met her half-way. "Yes. Something tremendous, something +terrible." + +"It was unwise of you to come here--you may be followed. Tell me +quickly what has made you so indiscreet?" + +"I have found Belisario Cardi." + +She paled; her eyes flamed. + +"Yes--it's incredible." His voice shook. "I know the man well, that's +the marvel of it. I've trusted him; I've rubbed shoulders with him; I +went to him to-night to enlist his aid." He paused, realizing for the +first time that the mystery of those letters was now deeper than ever. +If Maruffi had not written them, who then? "He's the best and richest +Italian in the city. God! The thing is appalling." + +"He must go to justice," said Vittoria, quietly. "His name?" + +"Caesar Maruffi!" + +The girl's eager look faded into one of blank dismay. + +"No!" she said, strangely. "No!" + +"Do you know him?" + +In a daze she nodded; then cast a hurried, frightened look over her +shoulder. + +"Madonna mia! Caesar Maruffi!" Disbelief and horror leaped into her +eyes. "You are mad! Not Caesar. I do not believe it." + +"Caesar, _Caesar_." he cried." Why do you call him that? Why do you +doubt? What is he to you?" + +She drew away with a look that brought him to his senses. + +"There is no mistake," he mumbled." He is Cardi. I know it. I--" + +"Wait, wait; don't tell me." She went groping uncertainly to the door. +"Don't tell me yet." + +A moment later he heard her call: + +"Oliveta! Come quickly, sorella mia. A friend. Quickly!" + +Oliveta--recognizably the same girl that he had known in Sicily-- +entered with her black brows lifted in anxious inquiry, her dark eyes +wide with apprehension. + +"Some evil has befallen; tell me!" she said, wasting no time in +greeting. + +"No. Nothing evil," Blake assured her. + +"Our friend has made a terrible discovery," said Vittoria, in a faint +voice. "I cannot believe--I--want you to hear, carina." She motioned +to Norvin. + +"I have been seeking our enemy, Belisario Cardi, and--I have found +him." + +Oliveta cried out in fierce triumph: "God be praised! He lives; that +is enough. I feared he had cheated us." + +"Listen!" exclaimed Vittoria, in such a tone that the peasant girl +started. "You don't understand." + +"I understand nothing except that he lives. His blood shall wash our +blood. That is what we swore, and I have never forgotten, even though +you have. He shall go to meet his dead, and his soul shall be +accursed." She spoke with the same hysterical ferocity as when she had +cursed her father's murderer in the castello of Terranova. + +"He calls himself Caesar Maruffi," Blake told her. + +There was a pause, then she said, simply: "That is a lie." + +"No, no! I saw him that night. I saw him again to-night." + +"It cannot be." + +"That is what I have said," concurred Vittoria, with strange +eagerness. "No, no--it would be too dreadful." + +Mystified and offended, Blake defended his statement forcibly. +"Believe it or not, as you please, it is true. That night in Sicily he +came among the brigands who held me prisoner. They were talking +excitedly. He cried, 'Silenzio!' in a voice I can never forget. To-night +he was gambling, and he lost heavily. He was furious; his friends +began to chatter, and he cried that word again! I would know it a +thousand years hence. I saw it all in a flash. I saw other things I had +failed to grasp--his size, his appearance. I tell you he is Belisario +Cardi." + +"God help me!" whispered the daughter of Ferara, crossing herself with +uncertain hand. She was staring affrightedly at Vittoria. "God help +me!" She kept repeating the words and gesture. + +Blake turned inquiringly to the other woman and read the truth in her +eyes. + +"Good Lord!" he cried. "He is her--" + +She nodded. "They were to be married." + +Oliveta began speaking slowly to her foster sister. "Yes, it is indeed +true. I have suspected something, but I dared not tell you all--the +things he said--all that I half learned and would not ask about. I was +afraid to know. I closed my eyes and my ears. Body of Christ! And all +the time my father's blood was on his hands!" + +Vittoria appealed helplessly to Blake. "You see how it is. What is to +be done?" + +But his attention was all centered upon Oliveta, whose face was +changing curiously. + +"His blood!" she exclaimed. "I have loved that infamous man. His +hands--" She let her gaze fall to her own, as if they too might be +stained from contact. + +"Does Maruffi know who you really are?" he asked. + +Vittoria answered; "No. She would have told him soon; we were waiting +until we had run down those men. You see, it was largely through her +that I worked. Those things which I could not discover she learned +from--him. It was she who secured the names of Di Marco and Garcia and +the others." + +Sudden enlightenment brought a cry from him. + +"You! Then you wrote those letters! You are the 'One Who Knows'?" + +Vittoria nodded; but her eyes were fixed upon the girl. + +Oliveta was whispering through white lips: "It is the will of God! He +has been delivered into my hands." + +"I am beginning to--" + +"Wait!" Vittoria did not withdraw her anxious gaze. After an instant +she inquired, gently, "Oliveta, what shall we do?" + +"There is but one thing to do." + +"You mean--" + +"I have been sent by God to betray him." Her face became convulsed, +her voice harsh. "I curse him, living and dead, in the name of my +father, in the name of Martel Savigno, who died by his hand. May he +pray unheard, may he burn in agony for a thousand thousand years. Take +him to the hangman, Signore. He shall die with my curse in his ears." + +"I can't bring him to justice," Blake confessed. "I know him to be the +assassin, but my mere word isn't enough to convict him. I have no way +of connecting him with the murder of Chief Donnelly, and that is what +he must answer for." + +Oliveta's lips writhed into a tortured smile. "Never fear, I shall +place the loop about his neck where my arms have lain. He has told me +little, for I feared to listen. But wait! Give me time." + +Vittoria cried in a shocked voice: "Child! Not--that," + +"It was from him I learned of Gian Narcone and his other friends; now +I shall learn from his own mouth the whole truth. He shall weave the +rope for his own destruction. Oh, he is like water in my hands, and I +shall lie in his arms--" + +"Lucrezia! You can't touch him--knowing--" + +"I will have the truth, if I give myself to him in payment, if I am +damned for eternity. God has chosen me!" + +She broke down into frightful sobs. With sisterly affection the other +woman put her arms about her and tried to soothe her. At length she +led her away, but for a long time Norvin could hear sounds of the +peasant girl's grief. When Vittoria reappeared her face was still pale +and troubled. + +"I can do nothing with her. She seems to think we are all divine +instruments." + +"Poor girl! She is in a frightful position. I'm too amazed to talk +sensibly. But surely she won't persist." + +"You do not know her; she is like iron. Even I have no power over her +now, and I--fear for the result. She is Sicilian to the core, she will +sacrifice her body, her soul, for vengeance, and that--man is a +fiend." + +"It's better to know the truth now than later." + +"Yes, the web of chance has entangled our enemies and delivered them +bound into our hands. We cannot question the wisdom of that power +which wove the net. Oliveta is perhaps a stronger instrument than I; +she will never rest until her father is avenged." + +"The strangest part is that you are the 'One Who Knows,' You told me +you had given up the quest." + +"And so I had. I was weary of it. My life was bleak and empty. I could +not return to Sicily, because of the memories it held. We came South +in answer to the call of our blood, and I took up a work of love +instead of hate, while Oliveta found a new interest in this man, who +was wonderful and strong and fierce in his devotion to her. I attained +to that peace for which I had prayed. Then, when I was nearly ready +for my vows, my foster sister learned of Gian Narcone and came to me. +We talked long together, and I finally yielded to her demands--she is +a contadina, she never forgets--and I wrote that first letter to Mr. +Donnelly. I feared you might see and recognize my handwriting, so I +bought one of those new machines and learned to use it. What followed +you know. When we discovered that the Mafia had vowed to take Chief +Donnelly's life in payment for Narcone's, we were forced to go on or +have innocent blood upon our hands. + +"The Chief was killed in spite of our warnings, and then you appeared +as the head of his avengers--you--my truest friend, the brother of +Martel. I knew that the Mafia would have your life unless you crushed +it, and in a sense I was responsible for your danger. It seemed my +duty to help break up this accursed brotherhood, much as I wished that +the work might fall to other hands. Oliveta was eager for the +struggle, and while she fought for her vengeance, I--I fought to save +you." + +"You did this for _me!_" he cried, falteringly. + +"Yes. My position at the hospital, my occupation made it easy for me +to learn many things. It was I who discovered the men who actually +killed Chief Donnelly; for Normando, after his injury, was brought +there and I attended him. I learned of his accomplices, where the boy, +Gino Cressi, was concealed, and other things. Lucrezia was a spy here +among her countrypeople, and Caesar was forever dropping bits of +information, though we never dreamed who he was." + +She went to the long French window, and, shading her eyes with her +hands, peered down into the dark street. + +"Then you have--thought of me," he urged. "You thought of me even +before we were drawn together by this net of chance?" + +"You have seldom been out of my thoughts," she told him, quietly." You +were my only friend, and I live a lonely life." Turning with a wistful +smile, she asked: "And have you now and then remembered that Sicilian +girl you knew so long ago?" + +His voice was unruly; it broke as he replied: "Your face is always +before me, Contessa. I grew very tired of waiting, but I always felt +that I would find you." + +She gave him her two hands. "The thought of your affection and loyalty +has meant much to me; and it will always mean much. When I have +entered upon my new life and know that you are happy in yours--" + +"But I never shall be happy," he broke out, hoarsely. + +She stopped him with a grave look. + +"Please! You must go now. I will show you a way. So long as Cardi is +at liberty you must not return; the risks are too great for all of us. +As Oliveta learns the truth I shall advise you. Poor girl, she needs +me tonight. Come!" + +She led him through the house, down a stairway into the courtyard, and +directed him into a narrow passageway which led out to the street +behind. "Even this is not safe, for they may be waiting." She laid her +hand upon his arm and said, earnestly, "You will be careful?" + +"I will." + +He fought down the wild impulse to take her in his arms. As he skulked +through the gloom, searching the darkest shadows like a criminal, his +fear was gone, and in his heart was something singing joyously. + + + + +XIX + +FELICITE + + + +"You're just the man I'm looking for," Bernie Dreux told Norvin, whom +he chanced to meet on the following morning. "I've made a discovery." + +"Indeed! What is it?" + +"Hist! The walls have ears." Bernie cast a glance over his shoulder at +the busy, sunlit street and the hurrying crowds. "Come!" With a +melodramatic air he led Blake into a coffee-house near by. "You can't +guess it!" he exclaimed, when they were seated. + +"And what's more, I won't try. You're getting too mysterious, Bernie." + +"I've found him." + +"Whom?" + +"The bell-cow; the boss dago; the chief head-hunter; Belisario Cardi!" + +Blake started and the smile died from his lips. Dreux ran on with some +heat: + +"Oh, don't look so skeptical. Any man with intelligence and courage +can become as good a detective as I am. I've found your Capo-Mafia, +that's all." + +"Who is he?" + +"You won't believe me; but he's well thought of. You know him; O'Neil +knows him. He's generally trusted." + +Norvin began to suspect that by some freak of fortune his little +friend had indeed stumbled upon the truth. Dreux was leaning back in +his chair and beaming triumphantly. + +"Come, come! What's his name?" + +"Joe Poggi." + +"Poggi? He's the owner of that fruit-stand you've been watching." + +"Exactly! Chief Donnelly suspected him." + +"Nonsense!" Norvin's face was twitching once more. "Poggi is on the +force; he's a detective, like you." + +"Come off!" Bernie was shocked and incredulous. + +"Have you shadowed him for months without learning that he's an +officer?" + +"I--I--He's the fellow, just the same." + +"Oh, Bernie, you'd better stick to the antique business." + +Mr. Dreux flushed angrily. "If he isn't one of the gang," he cried, +"what was he doing with Salvatore di Marco and Frank Garcia the night +after Donnelly's murder? What's he doing now with Caesar Maruffi if he +isn't after him for money?" + +Blake's amusement suddenly gave place to eagerness. + +"Maruffi!" he exclaimed. "What's this?" + +"Joe Poggi is blackmailing Caesar Maruffi out of the money to defend +his friends. He was at di Marco's house an hour before Salvatore's +arrest. I saw him with Garcia and Bolla and Cardoni more than once." + +"Why didn't you tell this to O'Neil?" + +"I tried to, but he wouldn't listen. When I said I was a detective he +laughed in my face, and we had a scene. He told me I couldn't find a +ham at a Hebrew picnic. Since then I've been working alone. Poggi has +been lying low lately, but--" Bernie hesitated, and a slight flush +stole into his cheeks. "I've become acquainted with his wife--we're +good friends." + +"And what have you learned from her?" + +"Nothing directly; but I think she's acting as her husband's agent, +collecting blackmail to hire lawyers for the defense. Poor Caesar! +he's rich, and Poggi is bleeding him. Since Joe is on the police force +he knows every thing that goes on. No wonder you can't break up the +Mafia!" + +"By Jove!" said Norvin. "I was warned of a leak in the department. But +it couldn't be Poggi!" + +He began to question Bernie with a peremptoriness and rapidity that +made the little man blink. Mingled with much that was grotesque and +irrelevant, he drew out a fairly credible story of nocturnal meetings +between the Italian detective and Caesar Maruffi, which, taken in +connection with what he already knew, was most disturbing. + +"How did you come to meet Mrs. Poggi?" he inquired, at last. + +The question brought that same flush to Mr. Dreux's cheeks. + +"She found I was following her one day," he explained, "so I told her +I was smitten by her beauty. I got away with it, too. Rather clever, +for an amateur, eh?" + +"Is she good-looking?" + +Bernie nodded. "She's an outrageous flirt, though, and--oh, what a +temper!" He shuddered nervously. "Why, she'd stick a knife into me or +bite my ears off if she suspected. She's insanely jealous." + +"It's not a nice position for you." + +"No. But I've something far worse than her on my hands--Felicite. +She's more to be feared than the Mafia." + +"Surely Miss Delord isn't dangerous." + +"Isn't she?" mocked the bachelor. "You ought to see--" He started, his +eyes fixed themselves upon the entrance to the cafe with a look of +horror, he paled and cast a hurried glance around as if in search of a +means of escape. "Here she is now!" + +Norvin turned to behold Miss Delord approaching them like an arrow. +She was a tiny creature, but it was plain that she was out in all her +fighting strength. Her pretty face was dark with passion, her eyes +were flashing, and they pierced her lover with a terrible glance as +she paused before him, crying furiously: + +"Well? Where is she?" + +"Felicite," stammered Dreux, "d-don't cause a scene." + +Miss Delord stamped a ridiculously small foot and cried again, +oblivious of all save her black jealousy: + +"Where is she, I say? Eh? You fear to answer. You shield her, +perhaps." A plump brown hand darted forth and seized Bernie by the +ear, giving it a tweak like the bite of a parrot. + +"Ouch!" he exclaimed, loudly. "Felicite, you'll ruin us!" + +A waiter began to laugh in smothered tones. + +"Tell me," stormed the diminutive fury. "It is time we had a +settlement, she and I. I will lead you to her by those ass's ears of +yours and let her hear the truth from your own mouth." + +"Miss Delord, you do Bernie an injustice," Norvin said, placatingly. + +She turned swiftly. "Injustice? Bah! He is a flirt, a loathsome +trifler. What could be more abominable?" + +"Felicite! D-don't make a scene," groaned the unhappy Dreux, nursing +his ear and staring about the cafe with frightened, appealing eyes. + +"Bernie was just--" + +"You defend him, eh?" stormed the creole girl. "You are his friend. +Beware, M'sieu, that I do not pull your ears also. I came here to +unmask him." + +"Please sit down. You're attracting attention." + +"Attention! Yes! But this is nothing to what will follow. I shall make +known his depravity to the whole city, for he has sweethearts like +that King Solomon of old. It is his beauty, M'sieu! Listen! He loves a +married woman! Imagine it!" + +"Felicite! For Heaven's sake--" + +"A dago woman by the name of Piggy. But wait, I shall make her squeal. +Piggy! A suitable name, indeed! He follows her about; he meets her +secretly; he adores her, the scoundrel! Is it not disgusting? But I am +no fool. I, too, have watched; I have followed them both, and I shall +scratch her black face until it bleeds, then I shall tell her husband +the whole truth." + +Miss Delord paused, out of breath for the moment, while Bernie pawed +at her in a futile manner. Beads of perspiration were gathering upon +his brow and he seemed upon the verge of swooning. As if from habit, +however, he reached forth a trembling hand and deftly replaced a loose +hairpin, then tucked in a stray lock which Felicite's vehemence had +disarranged. + +"Y-your hat's on one side, my dear," he told her. + +She tossed her head and drew away, saying, "Your touch contaminates +me--monster!" + +Blake drew out a chair for her; his eyes were twinkling as he said, +"Won't you allow him to explain?" + +"There is nothing to explain, since I know everything. See! His tongue +cleaves to the roof of his mouth. He quails! He cannot even lie! But +wait until I have told the Piggy's husband--that big, black ruffian-- +then perhaps he will find his voice. Ah, if I had found that woman +here there would have been a scene, I promise you." + +"Help me--out," gasped Mr. Dreux, and Norvin came willingly to his +friend's rescue. + +"Bernie loves no one but you," he said. + +"So? I glory in the fact that I loathe him." + +"Please sit down." + +"No!" Miss Delord plumped herself down upon the edge of the proffered +seat, her toes bardy touching the floor. + +"I'm--working Mrs. Poggi," Bernie explained. "I'm a--detective." + +"What new falsehood is this?" + +"No falsehood at all," Norvin told her. "He is a detective--a very +fine one, too--and he has been working on the Mafia case for a long +time. It has been part of his work to follow the Poggis. Please don't +allow your jealousy to ruin everything." + +"I am not jealous. I merely will not let him love another, that is +all--But what is this you say?" Her velvet eyes had lost a little of +their hardness; they were as round as buttons and fixed inquiringly +upon the speaker. + +"You must believe me," he said, impressively, "though I can't tell you +more. Even of this you mustn't breathe a word to any one. Mr. Dreux +has had to permit this misunderstanding, much against his will, +because of the secrecy imposed upon him." + +With wonderful quickness the anger died out of Felicite's face, to be +replaced by a look of sweetness. + +"A detective!" she cried, turning to Bernie. "You work for the public +good, at the risk of your life? And that dago woman is one of the +Mafia? What a noble work! You forgive me?" + +Instantly Mr. Dreux's embarrassment left him and he assumed a chilling +haughtiness. + +"Forgive you? After such a scene? My dear girl, that's asking a good +deal." + +Felicite's lips trembled, her eyes, as they turned to Norvin, held +such an appeal that he hastened to reassure her. + +"Of course he forgives you. He's delighted that you care enough to be +jealous." + +Bernie grinned, whereupon his peppery sweetheart exploded angrily: + +"You delight in my unhappiness, villain! You enjoy my sufferings! Very +well! You have flirted; I shall flirt You drive me to distraction; I +shall behave accordingly. That Antoine Giroux worships me and would +buy a ring for me to-morrow if I would consent." + +"I'll murder him!" exclaimed Dreux, with more savagery than his friend +believed was in him. + +"Now, don't start all over again," Blake cautioned them. "You are mad +about each other--" + +"Nothing of the sort," declared Felicite. + +"At least Bernie worships you." + +The girl fell silent and beamed openly upon her lover. + +"Why don't you two end this sort of misunderstanding and--marry?" + +Miss Delord paled at this bold question. Dreux gasped and flushed +dully, but seemed to find no words. + +"That is impossible," he said, finally. + +"It's nothing of the sort," urged Blake. "You think you're happy this +way, but you're not and never will be. You're letting the best years +of your lives escape. Why care what people say if you're happy with +each other and unhappy when apart?" + +To his surprise, the girl turned upon him fiercely. "Do not torture +Bernie so," she cried. "There are reasons why he cannot marry. I love +him, he adores me; that is enough." Two tears gathered and stole down +her smooth cheeks. "You are cruel to hurt him so, M'sieu." + +"Bernie, you're a coward!" Blake said, with some degree of feeling, +but the girl flew once more to her lover's defense. + +"Coward, indeed! His bravery is unbelievable. Does he not risk his +life for this miserable Committee of yours? He has the courage of a +thousand lions." + +"I admire your loyalty--and of course it's really not my affair, +although--Why don't you go out to the park where the birds are +singing, and talk it all over? Those birds are always glad to welcome +lovers. Meanwhile I'll look into the Poggi matter." + +Bernie was glad enough to end the scene, and he arose with alacrity; +but his face was very red and he avoided the eye of his friend. As for +Miss Delord, now that her doubts were quelled, she was as sparkling +and as cheerful as an April morning. + +If Bernie Dreux supposed that his troubles for the day had ended with +that stormy scene in the cafe, he was greatly mistaken. He had +promised Felicite that he would fly to her with the coming of dusk, +and that neither the claims of duty nor of family should keep him from +her side. But that evening Myra Nell seized upon him as he was +cautiously tiptoeing past her door on his way out. The tone of her +greeting gave him an unpleasant start. + +"I want to talk with you, young man," she said. + +Now nobody, save Myra Nell, ever assumed the poetic license of calling +Bernie "young man," and even she did so only upon momentous occasions. +A quick glance at her face confirmed his premonition of an +uncomfortable half-hour. + +"I haven't a cent, really," he said, desperately. + +"This isn't about money." She was very grave. "It is something far +more serious." + +"Then what can it be?" he inquired, in a tone of mild surprise. + +But she deigned no explanation until she had led him into the library, +waved him imperiously to a seat upon the hair-cloth sofa, and composed +herself on a chair facing him. Reflecting that he was already late for +his appointment, he wriggled uncomfortably under her gaze. + +"Well?" she said, after a pause. Something in her bearing caused his +spirits to continue their downward course. Her brow was furrowed with +a somber portent. + +"Yes'm," he said, nervously, quite like a small schoolboy whose eyes +are fixed upon the sunshine outside. + +"I've heard the truth." + +"Yes'm," he repeated, vaguely. + +"Needless to say I'm crushed," + +Bernie slowly whitened as the meaning of his sister's words sank in. +He seemed to melt, to settle together, and his eyes filled with a +strange, hunted expression. + +"What are you talking about?" he demanded, thickly. + +"You know, very well." + +"Do I?" + +She nodded her head. + +"This is the first disgrace which has ever fallen upon us, and I'm +heartbroken." + +"I don't understand," he protested, in a voice so faint she could +scarcely hear him. But his pallor increased; he sat upon the edge of +the couch, clutching it nervously as if it had begun to move under +him. He really felt dizzy. Myra Nell had a bottle of smelling-salts in +her room, and he thought of asking her to fetch it. + +"Even yet I can't believe it of you," she continued. "The idea that +you, my protector, the one man upon whom I've always looked with +reverence and respect; you, my sole remaining relative.... The idea +that you should be entangled in a miserable intrigue.... Why, it's +appalling!" Her lips quivered, tears welled into her eyes, seeing +which the little man felt himself strangling. + +"Don't!" he cried, miserably. "I didn't think you'd ever find it out." +"I seem to be the only one who doesn't know all about it." Myra Nell +shuddered. + +"I simply couldn't help it," he told her. "I'm human and I've been in +love for years." + +"But think what people are saying." + +He passed a shaking hand over his forehead, which had grown damp. "One +never realizes the outcome of these things until too late. I hoped +you'd never discover it. I've done everything I could to conceal it." + +"That's the terrible part--your double life. Don't you know it's +wrong, wicked, vile? I can't really believe it of you. Why, you're my +own brother! The honor of our name rests upon you. The--the idea that +you should fall a victim to the wiles of a low, vulgar--" + +Bernie stiffened his back and his colorless eyes flashed. + +"Myra Nell, she's nothing like that!" he declared. "You don't know +her." + +"Perhaps. But didn't you think of me?" He nodded his head. "Didn't you +realize it meant my social ruin?" Again he nodded, his mind in a whirl +of doubts and fears and furious regrets. "Nobody'll care to marry me +now. What do you think Lecompte will say?" + +"What the devil has Lecompte to do with it? You're engaged to Norvin +Blake." + +"Oh, yes, among the others." + +Bernie was too miserable to voice the indignation which such flippancy +evoked in him. He merely said: + +"Norvin isn't like the others. It's different with him; he compromised +you," + +"Yes. It was rather nice of him, but do you think he'll care to +continue our engagement after this?" + +"Oh, he's known about Felicite for a long time. Most of the fellows +know. That's what makes it so hard." + +This intelligence entirely robbed Myra Nell of words; she stared at +her half-brother as if trying to realize that the man who had made +this shocking admission was he. + +"Do you mean to tell me that your friends have known of this +disgrace?" she asked at length. + +Bernie nodded. "Of course it seems terrible to you, Myra Nell, for +you're innocent and unworldly, and I'm rather a dissipated old chap. +But I'm awfully lonely. The men of my own age are successful and busy +and they've all left me behind; the young ones don't find me +interesting. You see, I don't know anything, I can't do anything, I'm +a failure. Nobody cares anything about me, except you and Felicite I +found a haven in her society; her faith in me is splendid. To her I'm +all that's heroic and fine and manly, so when I'm with her I begin to +feel that I'm really all she believes, all that I hoped to be once +upon a time. She shares my dreams and I allow myself to believe in her +beliefs." + +"And yet you must realize that your conduct is shocking?" + +"I suppose I do." + +"You must know that you're an utterly immoral person?" He nodded. +"You're my protector, Bernie; you're all I have. I'm a poor motherless +girl and I lean upon you. But you must appreciate now that you're +quite unfit to act as my guardian." + +The little man wailed his miserable assent. His half-sister's +reproachful eyes distracted him; the mention of her defenseless +position before the world touched his sorest feeling. It was almost +more than he could stand, He was upon the verge of hysterical +breakdown, when her manner suddenly changed. + +Her eyes brightened, and, rising swiftly, she flung herself down +beside him upon the sofa, where he still sat clutching it as if it +were a bucking horse. Then, curling one foot under her, she bent +toward him, all eagerness, all impulsiveness. With breathless +intensity she inquired: + +"Tell me, Bunnie, is she pretty?" + +"Very pretty, indeed," he said, lamely. + +"What's she like? Quick! Tell me all about her. This is the wickedest +thing I ever heard of and I'm _perfectly_ delighted." + +It was Bernie's turn to look shocked. He arose indignantly. "Myra +Nell! You paralyze me. Have you no moral--" + +"Rats!" interrupted Miss Warren, inelegantly. "I've let you preach to +me in the past, but never again. We've the same blood in us, Bunnie. +If I were a man I dare say I'd do the most terrible things--although +I've never dreamed of anything so fiercely awful as this." + +"I should hope not," he gasped. + +"So come now, tell me everything. Does she pet you and call you funny +names and ruffle your hair the way I do?" + +Bernie assumed an attitude of military erectness. "It's bad enough for +me to be a reprobate in secret," he said, stiffly, "but I sha'n't +allow my own flesh and blood to share my shame and gloat over it." + +The girl's essential innocence, her child-like capacity for seeing +only the romance of a situation in which he himself recognized real +dishonor, made him feel ashamed, yet he was grateful that she took the +matter, after all, so lightly. His respite, however, was of short +duration. Failing to draw him out on the subject which held her +interest for the moment, Myra Nell followed the beckoning of a new +thought. Fixing her eyes meditatively upon him, she said, with mellow +satisfaction: + +"It seems we're both being gossiped about, dear." + +"You? What have _you_ been doing?" he demanded, in despair. + +"Oh, I really haven't done anything, but it's nearly as bad. There's a +report that Norvin Blake is paying all my Carnival bills, and +naturally it has occasioned talk. Of course I denied it; the idea is +too preposterous." + +Bernie, who had in a measure recovered his composure, felt himself +paling once more. + +"Amy Cline told me she'd heard that he actually bought my +_dresses_, but Amy is a catty creature. She's mad over Lecompte, +you know; that's why I encourage him; and she wanted to be Queen, too, +but la, la, she's so skinny! Well, I was furious, naturally--" Miss +Warren paused, quick to note the telltale signs in her brother's face. +"Bernie!" she said. "Look me in the eye!" Then--"It is true!" + +Her own eyes were round and horrified, her rosy cheeks lost something +of their healthy glow; for once in her capricious life she was not +acting. + +"I never dreamed you'd learn about it," her brother protested. "When +Norvin asked me if you'd like to be Queen I forbade him to mention it +to you, for I couldn't afford the expense. But he told you in spite of +me, and when I saw your heart was set on it--I--I just couldn't +refuse. I allowed him to loan me the money." + +"Bernie! Bernie!" Myra Nell rose and, turning her back upon him, +stared out of the window into the dusk of the evening. At length she +said, with a strange catch in her voice, "You're an anxious comfort, +Bernie, for an orphan girl." Another moment passed in silence before +he ventured: + +"You see, I knew he'd marry you sooner or later, so it wasn't really a +loan." He saw the color flood her neck and cheek at his words, but he +was unprepared for her reply. + +"I'll never marry him now; I'll never speak to him again." + +"Why not?" + +"Can't you understand? Do you think I'm entirely lacking in pride? +What kind of man can he be to _tell_ of his loan, to make it +public that the very dresses which cover me were bought with his +money?" She turned upon her half-brother with clenched hands and eyes +which were gleaming through tears of indignation. "I could _kill_ +him for that." + +"He didn't tell," Bernie blurted out. + +"He must have. Nobody knew it except you--" Her eyes widened; she +hesitated. "You?" she gasped. + +It was indeed, the hour of Bernie's discomfiture. Myra Nell was his +divinity, and to confess his personal offense against her, to destroy +her faith in him, was the hardest thing he had ever done. But he was +gentleman enough not to spare himself. At the cost of an effort which +left him colorless he told her the truth. + +"I'd been drinking, that day of the quarantine. I thought I'd fix it +so he couldn't back out." + +Myra Nell's lips were white as she said, slowly, measuring him +meanwhile with a curious glance: + +"Well, I reckon you fixed it right enough; I reckon you fixed it so +that neither of us can back out." She turned and went slowly up-stairs, +past the badly done portraits of her people which stared down +at her in all their ancient pride. She carried her head high before +them, but, once in her room, she flung herself upon her bed and wept +as if her heart were breaking. + +Fortunately for Norvin Blake's peace of mind, he had no inkling of +Bernie's indiscretion nor of any change in Myra Nell. His work now +occupied his mind to the exclusion of everything else. While anxiously +waiting for some word from Oliveta he took up, with O'Neil, the +investigation of Joe Poggi, the Italian detective. Before definite +results had been obtained he was delighted to receive a visit from +Vittoria Fabrizi, who explained that she had risked coming to see him +because she dared not trust the mails and feared to bring him into the +foreign quarter. + +"Then Oliveta has made some progress?" he asked, eagerly. + +"Yes." + +"Good! Poor girl, it must be terribly hard for her to play such a +part." + +"No one knows how hard it has been. You would not recognize her, she +has changed so. Her love, for which we were so deeply thankful, has +turned into bitter hate. It was a long time before she dared trust +herself with Maruffi, for always she saw the blood of her father upon +his hands. But she is Sicilian, she turned to stone and finally +welcomed his caresses. Ah! that man will suffer for what he has made +her endure." + +Blake inquired, curiously, "Does he really love her?" + +"Yes. That is the strangest part of the whole affair. It is the one +good thing in his character, the bit of gold in that queer alloy which +goes to make him up. Perhaps if he had met her when he was younger, +love would have made him a different man. In her hands he is like wax; +he is simple, childlike; he fawns upon her, he would shower her with +gifts and attentions; yet underneath there is that streak of devilish +cunning." + +"What has he told, so far?" + +"Much that is significant, little that is definite. We have pieced his +words together, bit by bit, and uncovered his life an inch at a time. +It was he who paid the blood money to di Marco and Bolla--thousand +dollars." + +"A thousand dollars for the life of Dan Donnelly!" + +The Countess lowered her yellow head. "They in turn hired Larubio, +Normando, and the rest. The chain is complete." + +"Then all that remains is to prove it, link by link, before arresting +him." + +"Is not Oliveta's word sufficient proof?" + +"No." Blake paced his office silently, followed by the anxious gaze of +his caller. At length he asked, "Will she take the stand at the +trial?" + +"Heaven forbid! Nothing could induce her to do so. That is no part of +her scheme of vengeance, you understand? Being Sicilian, she will work +only in her own way. Besides--that would mean the disclosure of her +identity and mine." + +"I feared as much. In that case every point which Maruffi confesses to +her must be verified by other means. That will not be easy, but I dare +say it can be done." + +"The law is such a stupid thing!" exclaimed Vittoria. "It has no eyes, +it will not reason, it cannot multiply nor add; it must be led by the +hand like a blind old man and be told that two and two make four. +However, I have a plan." + +"I confess that I see no way. What do you advise?" + +"These accused men are in the Parish prison, yes? Very well. Imprison +spies with them who will gain their confidence. In that way we can +verify Maruffi's words." + +"That's not so easily done. There is no certainty that they would make +damaging admissions." + +"Men who dwell constantly with thoughts of their guilt feel the need +of talking. The mind is incapable of continued silence; it must +communicate the things that weigh it down. Let the imprisoned Mafiosi +mingle with one another freely whenever ears are open near by, and you +will surely get results." Seeing him frown in thought, she continued, +after a moment, "You told me of a great detective agency--one which +sent that man Corte here to betray Narcone." + +"Yes, the Pinkertons. I was thinking of them. I believe it can be +done. At any rate, leave it to me to try, and if I succeed no one +shall know about it, not even our own police. When our spies enter the +prison, if they do, it will be in a way to inspire confidence among +the Mafiosi. Meanwhile, do you think you are entirely safe in that +foreign quarter?" + +"Quite safe, although the situation is trying. I have felt the strain +almost as deeply as my unfortunate sister." + +"And when it is all over you will be ready for your vows?" + +Her answer gave no sign of the hesitation he had hoped for and half +expected. + +"Of course." + +He shook his head doubtfully. "Somehow, I--I feel that fate will keep +you from that life; I cannot think of you as a Sister of Mercy." In +spite of himself his voice was uneven and his eyes were alight with +the hope which she so steadfastly refused to recognize. + +As she rose to leave she said, musingly, "How strange it is that this +master of crime and intrigue should betray himself through the one +good and unselfish emotion of his life!" + +"Samson was shorn of his strength by the fingers of a woman," he said. + +"Yes. Many good men have been betrayed by evil women, but it is not +often that evil men meet their punishment through good ones. And now-- +a riverderci." + +"Good-by, for a few days." He pressed his lips lightly to her fingers. + + + + +XX + +THE MAN IN THE SHADOWS + + + +Late one day, a fortnight after her visit to Blake's office, Vittoria +returned from a call upon Myra Nell Warren, to find Oliveta in a high +state of apprehension. The girl, who had evidently kept watch for her, +met her at the door, and inquired, nervously: + +"What news? What have you heard?" + +"Nothing further, sorella mia." + +"Impossible! God in Heaven! I am dying! This suspense--I cannot endure +it longer." + +Vittoria laid a comforting hand upon her. + +"Courage!" she said. "We can only wait. I too am torn by a thousand +demons. Caesar has gone, but no one knows where." + +Oliveta shuddered. "We are ruined. He suspects." + +"So you have said before, but how could he suspect?" + +"I don't know, yet judge for yourself. I worm his secrets from him at +the cost of kisses and endearments; I hold him in my arms and with +smiles and caresses I lead him to betray himself. Then, suddenly, +without warning or farewell, he vanishes. I tell you he knows. He has +the cunning of the fiend, and your friend Signore Blake has +blundered." Oliveta's face blanched with terror. She clung to her +companion weakly, repeating over and over: "He will return. God help +us, he will return." + +"Even though he knows the truth, which is far from likely, he would +scarcely dare to come here," Vittoria said, striving with a show of +confidence which she did not feel to calm her foster sister. + +"You do not know him as I do. You do not know the furies which goad +him in his anger." + +In spite of herself Vittoria felt choked again by those fears which +during the days since Maruffi's disappearance she had with difficulty +controlled. She knew that the net had been spread for him in all +caution, yet he had slipped through it. Whether he had been warned or +whether mere chance had taken him from the city at the last moment, +neither she, nor Blake, nor the Chief of Police had been able to +learn. All had been done with such secrecy that, except a bare +half-dozen trusted officers, no one knew him to be even suspected of a +part in the Mafia's affairs. Norvin had been quick to sense the possible +danger to the two women, and had urged them to accept his protection; +but they had convinced him that such a course had its own dangers, for +in case the Mafioso was really unsuspicious the slightest indiscretion +on their part might frighten him. Therefore they had insisted upon +living as usual until something more definite was known. + +This afternoon Vittoria had received a message from Myra Nell, +requesting, or rather demanding, her immediate attendance. She had +gone gladly, hoping to divert her mind from its present anxieties; but +the girl had talked of little except Norvin Blake and the effect had +not been calming. + +Oliveta soon discovered that her sister was in a state to receive +rather than give consolation. + +"Carissima, you are ill!" she said with concern. + +Vittoria assented. "It is my eyes--my head. The heat is perhaps as +much to blame as our many worries." She removed her hat and pressed +slender fingers to her throbbing temples, while Oliveta drew the +curtains against the fierce rays of a westering sun. Later, clad in a +loose silken robe, Vittoria flung herself upon the low couch and her +companion let down her luxuriant masses of hair until it enveloped her +like a cloud. She lay back upon the cushions in grateful relaxation, +while Oliveta combed and brushed the braids, soothing her with an +occasional touch of cool palms or straying fingers. + +"How strange that both our lives should have been blighted by this +man!" the peasant girl said at length. + +"'Sh-h! You must not think of him so unceasingly," Vittoria warned +her. + +"One's thoughts go where they will when one is sick and wearied. I +have grown to hate everything about me--the people, the life, the +country." + +"Sicily is calling you, perhaps?" + +Oliveta answered eagerly, "Yes! You, too, are unhappy, my dearest. Let +us go home. Home!" She let her hands fall idle and stared ahead of +her, seeing the purple hills behind Terranova, the dusty gray-green +groves of olive-trees, the brilliant fields of sumach, the arbors bent +beneath their weight of blushing fruit. "I want to see the village +people again, my father's relatives, old Aliandro, and the Notary's +little boy--" + +"He must be a well-grown lad, by now," murmured Vittoria. "Aliandro, I +fear, is dead. But it is a long road to Terranova; we have--changed." + +"Yes--everything has changed. My happiness has changed to misery, my +hope to despair, my love to hate." + +"Poor sister mine!" Vittoria sympathized. "Be patient. No wound is too +deep for time to heal. The scar will remain, but the pain will +disappear. I should know, for I have suffered." + +"And do you suffer no longer? It has been a long time since you +mentioned--Martel." + +For a moment Vittoria remained silent, her eyes closed. When she +replied it was not in answer to the question. "I can never return to +Sicily, for it would awaken nothing but distress in me. But there is +no reason why you should not go if you wish. You have the means, while +all that I had has been given to the Sisters." + +Oliveta cried out at this passionately. "I have nothing. That which +you gave me I hold only for you. But I would not go alone; I shall +never leave you." + +"Some time you must, my dear. Our parting is not far off." + +"I am not sure." The peasant girl hesitated. "Deep in your heart, do +you hope to find peace inside the walls of that hospital?" + +"Yes--peace, at least; perhaps contentment and happiness also." + +"That is impossible," said Oliveta, at which Vittoria's hazel eyes +flew open. + +"Eh? Why not?" + +"Because you love this Signore Blake!" + +"Oliveta! You are losing your wits." + +"Perhaps! But I have not lost my eyes. As for him, he loved you even +in Sicily." + +"What then?" + +"He is a fine man. I think you could hear an echo to the love you +cherished for Martel, if you but listened." + +Vittoria gazed at her foster-sister with a look half tender and half +stern. Her voice had lost some of its languid indifference when she +replied: + +"Any feeling I might have would indeed be no more than an echo. I--am +not like other women; something in me is dead--it is the power to love +as women love. I am like a person who emerges from a conflagration, +blinded; the eyes are there, but the sight is gone." + +"Perhaps you only sleep, like the princess who waited for a kiss--" + +Vittoria interrupted impatiently: "No, no! And you mistake his +feelings. I attract him, perhaps, but he loves Miss Warren and has +asked her to marry him. What is more, she adores him and--they were +made for each other." + +"She adores him!" echoed the other. "Che Dio! She only plays at love. +Her affections are as shifting as the winds." + +"That may be. But he is in earnest. It was he who gave her this social +triumph--he made her Queen of the Carnival. He even bought her +dresses. It was that which caused her to send for me this afternoon. +Heaven knows I was in no mood to listen, but she chattered like a +magpie. As if I could advise her wisely!" + +"She is very dear to you," Oliveta ventured. + +"Indeed, yes. She shares with you all the love that is left in me." + +"I think I understand. You have principles, my sister. You have +purposely barred the way to your fairy prince, and will continue +sleeping." + +Vittoria's brow showed faint lines, but whether of pain or annoyance +it was hard to tell. + +Oliveta sighed. "What evil fortune overhangs us that we should be +denied love!" + +"Please! Let us speak no more of it." She turned her face away and for +a long time her companion soothed her with silent ministrations. +Meanwhile the dusk settled, the golden flames died out of the western +windows, the room darkened. Seeing that her patient slept, Oliveta +arose and with noiseless step went to a little shrine which hung on +the wall. She knelt before the figure of the Virgin, whispering a +prayer, then lit a fresh candle for her sister's pain and left the +room, partly closing the door behind her. + +She had allowed the maid-servant to go for the afternoon, and found, +upon examination, that the day's marketing had been neglected. There +was still time, however, in which to secure some delicacies to tempt +Vittoria's taste so she flung a shawl over her dark hair and descended +softly to the street. + +A little earlier on this same afternoon, as Norvin Blake sat at work +in his office, the telephone bell roused him from deep thought. He +seized the instrument eagerly, hoping for any news that would relieve +the tension upon his nerves. For uncertainty as to Maruffi's +whereabouts had weighed heavily upon him, especially in view of the +possible danger to the woman he loved and to her devoted companion. +The voice of O'Neil came over the wire, full-toned and distinct: + +"Hello! Is this Blake?"--and then, "We've got Maruffi!" + +"When? Where?" shouted Norvin. + +"Five minutes ago; at his own house. Johnson and Dean have been +watching the place. He went with them like a lamb, too. They've just +'phoned me that they're all on their way here." + +"Good! Do you need me?" + +"No! See you later. Good-by!" + +The Acting Chief slammed up his receiver, leaving his hearer stunned +at the suddenness of this long-awaited denouement. + +Maruffi taken! His race run! Then this was the end of the fight! A +ferocious triumph flooded Norvin's brain. With Belisario Cardi in the +hands of the law the spell of the Mafia was broken. Savigno and +Donnelly were as good as avenged. He experienced an odd feeling of +relaxation, as if both his body and brain were cramped and tired with +waiting. Then, realizing that the Countess and Oliveta must have +suffered an even greater strain, he set out at once to give them the +news in person. + +As he turned swiftly into Royal Street he encountered O'Connell, who, +noting his haste and something unusual in his bearing, detained him to +ask the cause. + +"Haven't you heard?" exclaimed Norvin. "Maruffi's captured at last." + +"You don't mean it!" + +"Yes. O'Neil told me over the wire not ten minutes ago." + +O'Connell fell into step with him, saying, incredulously: "And he came +without a fight? Lord! I can't believe it." + +"Nor I. I expected trouble with him." + +"Sure! I thought he was a bad one, but that's the way it goes +sometimes. I reckon he saw he had no chance." The officer shook his +red head. "It's just my blamed luck to miss the fun." O'Connell was +one of the few who had been first trusted with the news of Maruffi's +identity, and for the past fortnight he had been casting high and low +for the Sicilian's trail. Ever since that October night when he had +supported Donnelly in his arms as the life ebbed from the Chief, ever +since he had knelt on the soft banquette with the sting of powder +smoke in his nostrils, he had been obsessed by a fanatical desire to +be in at the death of his friend's murderers. He left Blake at his +destination and hurried on toward St. Phillip Street in the vague hope +that he might not be too late to take a hand in some part of the +proceedings. + +Blake's hand was upon Oliveta's bell when the door opened and she +confronted him. Her start, her frightened cry, gave evidence of the +nervous dread under which she labored. + +"Don't be afraid, Oliveta," he said, quickly. "I come with news--good +news." + +She swayed and groped blindly for support. He put out his hand to +sustain her, but she shrank away from him, saying, faintly: "Then he +is captured? God be praised!" + +In spite of the words, her eyes filmed over with tears, a look of +abject misery bared itself upon her face. + +"Where is the Countess?" + +"Above--resting. Come; she, too, will rejoice." + +"Let me take her the news. You were going out, and--I think the air +will do you good. Be brave, Oliveta; you have done your share, and +there's nothing more to fear." + +She acquiesced dully; her olive features were ghastly as she felt her +way past him; she walked like a sick woman. + +He watched her pityingly for a moment, then mounted the stairs. As he +laid his hand upon the door it gave to his touch and he stood upon the +threshold of the parlor. Vittoria's name was upon his lips when, by +the dim evening light which came through the drawn curtains and by the +faint illumination from the solitary shrine candle, he saw her +recumbent form upon the couch. + +She was lying in an attitude of complete relaxation, her sun-gilded +hair straying in long thick braids below her waist, Those tawny ropes +were of a length and thickness to bind a man about the body. Her lips +were slightly parted; her lashes lay like dark shadows against her +ivory cheeks. + +He was swept by a sudden awed abashment. The impulse to retreat came +over him, but he lacked the will. The longing which had remained so +strong in him through years of denial, governing the whole course of +his life, blazed up in him now and increased with every heartbeat. He +found that without willing it he had come close to the couch. The +girl's slim hand lay upon the cushions, limply upturned to him; it was +half open and there sprang through him an ungovernable desire to bury +his lips in its rosy palm. He knelt, then quailed and recovered +himself. At the same instant she stirred and, to his incredulous +delight, whispered his name. + +A wild exultation shot through him. Why not yield to this madness, he +asked himself, dizzily. The long struggle was over now. For this +woman's sake he had repeatedly played the part of bravery in a fever +of fear. He had done what he had done to make himself worthy of her, +and now, at the last, he was to have nothing--absolutely nothing, +except a memory. Against these thoughts his notions of honorable +conduct hastily and confusedly arrayed themselves. But he was in no +state to reason. The same enchantment, half psychic, half physical, +ethereal yet strongly human, that had mastered him in the old Sicilian +days, was at work upon him now. Dimly he felt that so mighty and +natural a thing ought not to be resisted. He stood stiffly like a man +spellbound. + +It may have been Oliveta's accusation that affected the course of the +sleeping woman's thoughts, it may have been that she felt the man's +nearness, or that some influence passed from his mind to hers. However +it was, she spoke his name again, her fingers closed over his, she +drew him toward her. + +He yielded; her warm breath beat upon his face; then the last atoms of +self-restraint fled away from him like sparks before a fierce night +wind. A fiery madness coursed through his veins as he caught her to +him. Her lips were fevered with sleep. For a moment the caress seemed +real; it was the climax of his hopes, the attainment of his longings. +He crushed her in his arms; her hair blinded him; he buried his face +in it, kissing her brow, her cheek, the curve where neck and shoulder +met, and all the time he was speaking her name with hoarse tenderness. + +So strangely had the fanciful merged into the real that the girl was +slow in waking. Her eyelids fluttered, her breast rose and fell +tumultuously, and even while her wits were struggling back to reality +her arms clung to him. But the transition was brief. Her eyes opened, +and she stiffened as with the shock of an electric current. A cry, a +swift, writhing movement, and she was upon her feet, his incoherent +words beating upon her ears but making no impression upon her brain. + +"_You_! God above!" she cried. + +She faced him, white, terror-stricken, yet splendid in her anger. She +was still dazed, but horror and dismay leaped quickly into her eyes. + +"Margherita! You called me. You drew me to you. It was your real self +that spoke--I know it." + +"You--kissed me while--I slept!" + +He paled at the look with which she scorched him, then broke out, +doggedly: + +"You wanted me; you drew me close. You can't undo that moment--you +can't. My God! Don't tell me it was all a mistake. That would make it +unendurable. I could never forgive myself." + +She hid her face with a choking cry of shame. "No, no! I didn't +know--" + +He approached and touched her arm timidly. "Margherita," he said, "if +I thought you really did not call me--if I were made to believe that I +had committed an unpardonable offense against your womanhood and our +friendship--I would go and kill myself. But somehow I cannot believe +that. I was beside myself--but I was never more exalted. Something +greater than my own will made me do as I did. I think it was your love +answering to mine. If that is not so--if it is all a delusion--there +is nothing left for me. I have played my part out to the end. My work +is done, and I do not see how I can go on living." + +There was an odd mingling of pain and rapture in the gaze she raised +to his. It gave him courage. + +"Why struggle longer?" he urged, gently. "Why turn from love when +Heaven wills you to receive it and learn to be a woman? I was in your +thoughts and you longed for me, as I have never ceased, all these +years, to hunger for you. Please! Please! Margherita! Why fight it +longer?" + +"What have you done? What have you done?" she whispered over and over. +She looked toward the open door as if with thought of escape or +assistance, and despite his growing hope Blake was miserable at sight +of her distress. + +"How came you here, alone with me?" she asked at length. "Oliveta was +here only a moment ago." + +"I came with good news for both of you. I met Oliveta as she went out, +and when I had told her she sent me to you. Don't you understand, +dear? It was good news. Our quest is over, our work is done, and God +has seen fit to deliver our enemy--" + +She flung out a trembling hand, while the other hid itself in the silk +and lace at her breast. + +"What is this you tell me? Maruffi? Am I still dreaming?" + +"Maruffi has been arrested." + +"Is it possible?--this long nightmare ended at last like this? Maruffi +is arrested? You are safe? No one has been killed?" + +"It is all right. O'Neil telephoned me and I came here at once to tell +you and Oliveta." + +"When did they find him? Where?" + +"Not half an hour ago--at his house. We have been watching the place +ever since he disappeared, feeling sure he'd have to return sooner or +later, if only for a moment. He is under lock and key at this +instant." + +Blake attributed a stir in the hall outside to the presence of the +maid-servant; Margherita, whose eyes were fixed upon him, failed to +detect a figure which stood in the shadow just beyond the open door. + +"Does he know of our part in it--Oliveta's part?" she asked. + +"O'Neil didn't say. He'll learn of it shortly, in any event. Do you +realize what his capture means? I--hardly do myself. For one thing, +there's no further need of concealment. I--I want people to know who +you are. It seems hardly conceivable that Belisario Cardi has gone to +meet his punishment, but it is true. Lucrezia has her revenge at last. +It has been a terrible task for all of us, but it brought you and me +together. I don't intend ever to let you go again, Margherita. I loved +you there in Sicily. I've loved you every moment, every hour--" + +Blake turned at the sound of a door closing behind him. He saw +Margherita start, then lean forward staring past him with a look of +amazement, of frightened incredulity, upon her face. Some one, a man, +had stepped into the dim-lit room and was fumbling with the lock, his +eyes fixed upon them, meanwhile, over his shoulder. The light from the +windows had faded, the faint illumination from the taper before the +shrine was insufficient fully to pierce the gloom. But on the instant +of his interruption all triumph and hope, all thoughts of love, fled +from Norvin's mind, bursting like iridescent bubbles, at a touch. The +flesh along his back writhed, the hair at his neck lifted itself; for +there in the shadow, huge, black, and silent, stood Caesar Maruffi. + + + + +XXI + +UNDER FIRE + + + +Blake heard Margherita's breath release itself. She was staring as if +at an apparition. His mind, working with feverish speed, sought vainly +to grasp the situation. Maruffi had broken away and come for his +vengeance, but how or why this had been made possible he could not +conceive. It sufficed that the man was here in the flesh, sinister, +terrible, malignant as hell. Blake knew that the ultimate test of his +courage had come. + +He felt the beginnings of that same shuddering, sickening weakness +with which he was only too familiar; felt the strength running out +from his body as water escapes from a broken vessel. He froze with the +sense of his physical impotency, and yet despite this chaos of +conflicting emotions his inner mind was clear; it was bitter, too, +with a ferocious self-disgust. + +There was a breathless pause before Maruffi spoke. + +"Lucrezia Ferara!" he said, hoarsely, as if wishing to test the sound +of the name. "So Oliveta is the daughter of the overseer, and you are +Savigno's sweetheart." His words were directed at Margherita, who +answered in a thin, shrill, broken voice: + +"What--are you doing--here?" + +"I came for that wanton's blood. Give her to me." + +"Oliveta? She is--gone." + +The Sicilian cursed. "Gone? Where?" + +"Away. Into the street. You--you cannot find her." + +"Christ!" Maruffi reached upward and tore open the collar of his +shirt. + +Blake spoke for the first time, but his voice was dead and lifeless. + +"Yes. She's gone. You're wanted. You must go with me!" + +Maruffi gave a snarling, growling cry and his gesture showed that he +was armed. Involuntarily Blake shrank back; his hand groped for his +hip, but, half-way, encountered the pile of silken cushions upon which +Margherita had been lying; his fingers sank into them nervously, his +other hand gripped the carven footboard of the couch. He had no +weapon. He had not dreamed of such a necessity. + +In this imminent peril a new fear swept over him greater than any he +had ever known. It was not the fear of death. It was something far +worse. For the moment, it seemed to him inevitable that Margherita +Ginini should, at last, learn the truth concerning him, should see him +as he was that night at Terranova. Swift upon the heels of his +long-deferred declaration of love would come the proof that he was a +craven. Then he thought of her danger, realizing that this man was +quite capable in his fury of killing her, too, and he stiffened in every +fiber. His cowardice fell away from him like a rotten garment, and he +stood erect. + +Maruffi, it seemed, had not heard his last words, or else his mind was +still set upon Oliveta. "Gone!" he exclaimed. "Then I shall not see +her face grow black within my fingers--not yet. God! How I ran!" He +cursed again. "But I shall not fare so badly, after all." He stirred, +and with his movement Blake flew to action. Swiftly, with one sweep of +his right hand, he brought the silken cushions up before his breast +and lunged at his enemy. At the same instant Maruffi fired. + +In the closed room the detonation was deafening; it rattled the +windows, it seemed to bulge the very walls. Blake felt a heavy blow +which drove the floss-filled pillows against his body with the force +of a giant hammer, it tore them from his grip, it crushed the breath +from his lungs and spun him half around. Seeing that he did not fall, +Maruffi cocked and fired a second time without aiming, but his victim +was upon him like a tiger and together they crashed back against the +wall, locked in each other's arms. + +Blake's will propelled him splendidly. All that indecision with which +fear works upon the mind had left him, but the old contraction of his +nerves still hampered his action. The blaze from Maruffi's second shot +half blinded him and its breath smote him like a blow. + +"Two!" he counted, wonderingly. A pain in his left side, due to that +first sledge-hammer impact, was spreading slowly, but he had crossed +the room under the belching muzzle of the revolver and was practically +unharmed. + +There began a struggle--the more terrible since it was unequal--in +which the weaker man had to drive his body at the cost of tremendous +effort. Blake was like a leader commanding troops which had begun to +retreat. But more power came to him under the spur of action and the +pressing realization that he must give Margherita a chance to get +safely away. If he could not wrest the weapon from Maruffi's hands he +knew that he must receive those four remaining bullets in his own +body. He rather doubted that he could take that weight of lead. + +He shouted to her to run, while he wrestled for possession of the gun. +He had flung his right arm about his adversary's body, his other hand +gripped his wrist; his head was pressed against Maruffi's chest. The +weapon described swift circles, jerking parabolas and figures as the +men strained to wrest it from each other. Maruffi strove violently to +free his imprisoned hand, and in doing so he discharged the revolver a +third time. The bullet brought a shower of plaster from the ceiling, +and Blake counted with fierce exultation, + +"Three!" + +He gasped his warning to the woman again, then twined his leg about +his antagonist's in a wrestler's hold, striving mightily to bear +Maruffi against the wall. But Caesar was like an oak-tree. Failing to +move him, Blake suddenly flung himself backward, with all his weight, +lifting at the same instant in the hope of a fall. In this he was all +but successful. The two reeled out into the room, tripped, went to +their knees, then rose, still intertwined in that desperate embrace. +The odd, stiff feeling in Blake's side had increased rapidly; it began +to numb his muscles and squeeze his lungs. His eyes were stinging with +sweat and smoke; his ears were roaring. As they swayed and turned he +saw that Margherita had made no effort to escape and he was seized +with an extraordinary rage, which for a brief time renewed his +strength. + +She was at the front window crying for help. + +"Jump! For--God's sake, jump!" he shouted, but she did not obey. +Instead she ran toward the combatants and seized Maruffi's free arm, +in a measure checking his effort to break the other man's hold. Her +closeness to danger agonized Blake, the more as he felt his own +strength ebbing, under that stabbing pain in his side. He centered his +force in the grip of his left hand, clinging doggedly while the +Sicilian flung his two assailants here and there as a dog worries a +scarf. + +Blake fancied he heard a stamping of feet in the hall outside and the +sound of voices, of heavy bodies crashing against the door. Maruffi +heard it, too, for with a bellow of fury he redoubled his exertions. A +sweep of his arm flung the girl aside; with a mighty wrench of his +body he carried Blake half across the room, loosening his hold. Then +he seized him by the throat and forced his head back. + +[Illustration: He wrestled for possession of the gun] + +The shouting outside was increasing, the pounding was growing louder. +Blake's breath was cut off and his strength went swiftly; his death +grip on the Sicilian's body slackened. As he tore at the fingers which +were throttling him, his left hand slipped, citing to Maruffi's +sleeve, and finally began clawing blindly for the weapon. The next +moment he was hurled aside, so violently that he fell, his feet +entangled in the cushions with which he had defended himself against +the first shot. + +He rose and renewed his attack, hearing Margherita cry out in horror. +This time Maruffi took deliberate aim, and when he fired the figure +lurching toward him was halted as if by some giant fist. + +"Four!" Blake counted. He was hit, he knew, but he still had strength; +there were but two more shots to come. Then he was dazed to find +himself upon his knees. As if through a film he saw the Italian turn +away and raise his weapon toward the girl, who was wrenching at the +door. + +"Maruffi!" he shouted. "Oh, God!" then he closed his eyes to shut out +what followed. But he heard nothing, for he slipped forward, face +down, and felt himself falling, falling, into silence and oblivion. + +As O'Connell made his way toward St. Phillip Street he nursed a +growing resentment at the news Norvin Blake had given him. His feeling +toward Caesar Maruffi had all the fierceness of private hatred, +calling for revenge, and he considered himself ill-used in that he had +not even been permitted to witness the arrest. He knew Maruffi's +countrymen would be likely to make a demonstration, and he was grimly +desirous of being present when this occurred. + +As he neared the heart of the Italian section he saw a blue-coated +officer running toward him. + +"What's up?" he cried. "Have the dagoes started something?" + +"Maruffi was pinched, but he got away," the other answered. "Johnson +is hurt, and--" + +O'Connell lost the remaining words, for he had broken into a run. + +A crowd had gathered in front of a little shop where the wounded +policeman had been carried to await the arrival of an ambulance, and +even before O'Connell had heard the full story of the escape +Acting-Chief O'Neil drove up behind a lathered horse. He leaped from his +mud-stained buggy, demanding, hoarsely: + +"Where is he--Maruffi?" + +Officer Dean, Johnson's companion, met him at the door of the shop. + +"He made his break while I was 'phoning you," he answered. + +"Hell! Didn't you frisk him?" roared the Chief. + +"Sure! But we missed his gun." + +"Caesar carries it on a cord around his neck--nigger-fashion," briefly +explained O'Connell. + +Dean was running on excitedly: "I heard Johnson holler, but before I +could get out into the street Maruffi had shot him twice and was into +that alley yonder. I tried to follow, but lost him, so I came back and +sent in the alarm." + +The Acting Chief cursed under his breath, and with a few sharp orders +hurried off the few officers who had reached the scene. Then as an +ambulance appeared he passed into the room where Johnson lay. As he +emerged a moment later O'Connell drew him aside. + +"Maruffi won't try to leave town till it's good and dark," he said. +"He's got a girl, and I've an idea he'll ask her to hide him out." + +"It was his girl who turned him up--she and Blake--" + +O'Connell cried, sharply: "Wait! Does he know she did that? If he +does, he'll make for her, sure." + +"That may be. Those two women are all alone, and I'd feel better if +they were safely out of the way. I'll leave you there on the way +back." + +An instant later they were clattering over the uneven flags while +their vehicle rocked and bounded in a way that threatened to hurl them +out. + +Even before they reached their destination they saw people running +through the dusk toward the house in which the two girls lived and +heard a shot muffled behind walls. O'Neil reined the horse to his +haunches as the shrill cry of a woman rang out above them, and the +next moment he and O'Connell were inside, rushing up the stairs with +headlong haste. They were brought to a stop before a bolted door from +behind which came the sounds of a furious struggle. + +"Blake! Norvin Blake!" shouted O'Connell. + +"Break it down!" O'Neil ordered. He set his back against the opposite +wall, then launched himself like a catapult. The patrolman followed +suit, but although the panels strained and split the heavy door held. + +"By God! he's in there!" the Chief cried, as he set his shoulder to +the barrier for a second time. "Once more! Together!" Through a +crevice which had opened in the upper panels they caught a glimpse of +the dimly lighted room. What they saw made them struggle like madmen. + +Another shot sounded, and O'Neil in desperation inserted his fingers +in the opening and tore at it. Through the aperture O'Connell saw +Maruffi run to an open window at the rear, then pause long enough to +snatch the taper from its sconce at the foot of the little shrine and, +stooping, touch its flame to the long lace curtains. They promptly +flashed into a blaze. Parting them, he bestrode, the sill, lowered +himself outside, and disappeared. It was an old but effective ruse to +delay pursuit. + +"Quick! He's set fire to the place," O'Connell gasped, and dashed down +the hall. + +A tremendous final heave of O'Neil's body cleared his way, a few +strides and he was at the window, ripping the blazing hangings down +and flinging them into the court below. When he turned it was to +behold in the dim twilight Vittoria Fabrizi kneeling beside Blake. Her +arms were about him, her yellow hair entwined his figure. + +"A light! Somebody get a light!" the Chief roared to those who had +followed him up the stairs, then seeing a lamp near by he lit it +hurriedly, revealing the full disorder of the room. He knelt beside +Vittoria, who drew the fallen man closer to her, moaning something in +Italian which O'Neil could not understand. But her look told him +enough, and, rising, he ordered some one to run for a doctor. +Strangers, white-faced and horrified, were crowding in; the sound of +other feet came from the stairs outside, questions and explanations +were noisily exchanged. O'Neil swore roundly at the crowd and drove it +ahead of him down into the street, where he set a man to guard the +door. Then he returned and helped the girl examine her lover's wounds. +Her fingers were steady and sure, but in her face was such an +abandonment of grief as he had never seen, and her voice was little +more than a rasping whisper. They were still working when the doctor +came, followed a moment later by a disheveled, stricken figure of +tragedy which O'Neil recognized as Oliveta. + +At sight of her foster-sister the peasant girl broke into a passion of +weeping, but Vittoria checked her with an imperious word, meanwhile +keeping her tortured eyes upon the physician. She waited upon him, +forestalling his every thought and need with a mechanical dexterity +that bore witness to her training, but all the while her eyes held a +pitiful entreaty. Not until she heard O'Neil call for an ambulance did +she rouse herself to connected speech. Then she exclaimed with +hysterical insistence: + +"You shall not take him away! I am a nurse; he shall stay here. Who +better than I could attend to him?" + +"He can stay here if you have a place for him," said the doctor. +O'Neil drew him aside, inquiring, "Will he live?" + +The doctor indicated Vittoria with a movement of his head. "I'm sure +of it. That girl won't let him die," + +The news of that combat traveled fast and far and it came to Myra Nell +Warren among the first. Despite the dreadful false position in which +Bernie had placed her with respect to Norvin, the girl had but one +thought and that was to go to her friend. She could not endure the +sight of blood, and her somewhat child-like imagination conjured up a +gory spectacle. She was afraid that if she tried to act as nurse she +would faint or run away when most needed. But she was determined to go +to him and to assist in any way she could. It was not consistent with +her ideas of loyalty to shrink from the sight of suffering even though +she could do nothing to relieve it. + +When she mounted the stairs to Oliveta's living-quarters she was pale +and agitated, and she faltered on the threshold at the sight of +strangers. Within were a newspaper reporter, a doctor, the Chief of +Police, the Mayor of the city, while outside a curious throng was +gathered. Seeing Miss Fabrizi, she ran toward her, sobbing nervously. + +"Where is he, Vittoria? Tell me that he's--safe!" + +Some one answered, "He's safe and resting quietly." + +"T-take me to him." + +A spasm stirred Vittoria's tired features; she petted the girl with a +comforting hand, while Mayor Wright said, gently: + +"It must have been a great shock to you, Myra Nell, as it was to all +of us, but you may thank God he has been spared to you." + +The reporter made a note upon his pad, and began framing the heart +interest of his story. Here was a new and interesting aspect of an +event worth many columns. + +Vittoria led the girl toward her room, but outside the door Myra Nell +paused, shaking in every limb. + +"You--you love him?" asked the other woman. + +The look which Miss Warren gave her stabbed like a knife, and when the +girl had sunk to her knees beside the bed, with Blake's name upon her +lips, Vittoria stood for a long moment gazing down upon her dazedly, + +Later, when she had sent Myra Nell home and silence lay over the city, +Norvin's nurse stole into the great front room where she had +experienced so much of gladness and horror that night, and made her +way wearily to the little image of the Virgin. She noted with a start +that the candle was gone, so she lit a new one and, kneeling for many +minutes, prayed earnestly for strength to do the right and to quench +the leaping, dazzling flame which had been kindled in her heart. + + + + +XXII + +A MISUNDERSTANDING + + + +Several days later Vittoria Fabrizi led Bernie Dreux into the room +where Norvin lay. The little man walked on tiptoe and wore an +expression of such gloomy sympathy that Blake said: + +"Please don't look so blamed pious; it makes me hurt all over." + +Bernie's features lightened faintly; he smiled in a manner bordering +upon the natural. + +"They wouldn't let me see you before. Lord! How you have frightened +us!" + +"My nurse won't let me talk." + +Blake's eyes rested with puzzled interrogation upon the girl, who +maintained her most professional air as she smoothed his pillow and +admonished him not to overtax himself. When she had disappeared +noiselessly, he said: + +"Well, you needn't put a rose in my hand yet awhile. Tell me what has +happened? How is Myra Nell?" + +"She's heartbroken, of course. She came here that first night; but the +smell of drugs makes her sick." + +"I suppose Maruffi got away?" + +Dreux straightened in his chair; his face flushed proudly; he put on +at least an inch of stature. "Haven't you heard?" he inquired, +incredulously. + +"How could I hear anything when I'm doctored by a deaf-mute and nursed +by a divinity without a tongue?" + +"Maruffi was captured that very night. Sure! Why, the whole country +knows about it." Again a look of mellow satisfaction glowed on the +little man's face. "My dear boy, you're a hero, of course, but--there-- +are--others." + +"Who caught him?" + +"I did." + +"_You!_" Norvin stared in open-mouthed amazement. + +"That's what I said. I--me--Mr. Bernard Effingwell Dreux, the +prominent cotillion leader, the second-hand dealer, the art critic and +amateur detective. I unearthed the notorious and dreaded Sicilian +desperado in his lair, and now he's cooling his heels in the parish +prison along with his little friends." + +"Why--I'm astonished." + +"Naturally! I found him in Joe Poggi's house. Mr. Poggi also +languishes in the bastille." + +"How in the world--" + +"Well, it's quite a story, and it all happened through the woman--" +Bernie flushed a bit as he met his companion's eye. "When I told you +about Mrs. Poggi I didn't exactly go into all the intimate--er-- +details. The truth is she became deeply interested in me. I told you +how I met her--Well, she wasn't averse to receiving my attentions-- +Heavens, no! She ate 'em up! Before I knew it I found myself entangled +in an intrigue--I had hold of an electric current and couldn't let go. +When I didn't follow her around, she followed me. When I didn't make +love, she did. She learned about Felicite, and there was--Excuse me!" +Bernie rose, put his head cautiously outside the door to find the +coast clear, then said: "Hell to pay! I tried to back out; but you +can't back away from some women any more than you can back away from a +prairie fire." He shook his head gloomily." It seems she wasn't +satisfied with Poggi; she had ambitions. She'd caught a glimpse of the +life that went on around her and wanted to take part in it. She +thought I was rich, too--my name had something to do with it, I +presume--at any rate, she began to talk of divorce, elopement, and +other schemes that terrorized me. She was quite willing that I murder +her husband, poison her relatives, or adopt any little expedient of +that kind which would clear the path for our true love. I was in over +my depth, but when I backed water she swam out and grabbed me. When I +stayed away from her she looked me up. I tried once to tell her that I +didn't really care for her--only once." The memory brought beads of +sweat to the detective's brow. "Between her and Felicite I led a dog's +life. If I'd had the money I'd have left town. + +"I'd been meeting her on street corners up to that point; but she +finally told me to come to the house while Poggi was away--it was the +day you were hurt. I rebelled, but she made such a scene I had to +agree or be arrested for blocking traffic. She carries a dagger, +Norvin, in her stocking, or somewhere; it's no longer than your +finger, but it's the meanest-looking weapon I ever saw. Well, I went, +along about dark, determined to have it out with her once for all; but +those aristocrats during the French Revolution had nothing on me. I +know how it feels to mount the steps of the guillotine. + +"The Poggi's parlor furniture is upholstered in red and smells musty. +I sat on the edge of a chair, one eye on her and the other taking in +my surroundings. There's a fine crayon enlargement of Joe with his +uniform, in a gold frame with blue mosquito-netting over it to +disappoint the flies--four ninety-eight, and we supply the frame--done +by an old master of the County Fair school. There's an organ in the +parlor, too, with a stuffed fish-hawk on it. + +"She seemed quite subdued and coy at first, so I took heart, never +dreaming she'd wear her dirk in the house. But say! That woman was +raised on raw beef. Before I could wink she had it out; it has an +ivory hilt, and you could split a silk thread with it. I suppose she +didn't want to spoil the parlor furniture with me, although I'd never +have showed against that upholstery, or else she's in the habit of +preparing herself for manslaughter by a system of vocal calisthenics. +At any rate, we were having it hot and heavy, and I was trying to +think of some good and unselfish actions I had done, when we heard the +back door of the cottage open and close, then somebody moving in the +hall. + +"Mrs. Poggi turned green--not white--green! And I began to picture the +head-lines in the morning papers! 'The Bachelor and the Policeman's +Wife,' they seemed to say. It wasn't Poggi, however, as I discovered +when the fellow called to her. He was breathing heavily, as if he had +been running. She signaled me to keep quiet, then went out; and I +heard them talking, but couldn't understand what was said. When she +came back she was greener than ever, and told me to go, which I did, +realizing that the day of miracles is not done. I fell down three +times, and ran over a child getting out of that neighborhood." Blake, +who had listened eagerly, inquired: + +"The man was Maruffi?" + +"Exactly! I got back to the club in time to hear about his arrest and +escape and your fight here. The town was ringing with it; everybody +was horrified and amazed. What particularly stunned me was the news +that Maruffi, not Poggi, was the head of the Mafia; but my experience +in criminal work has taught me to be guided by circumstances, and not +theory, so when I learned more about Caesar's escape I fell to +wondering where he could hide. Then I recalled his secret meetings +with Joe Poggi and that scalding volcano of emotion from whom I had +just been delivered. Her fright, when she let me out, something +familiar in the voice which called to her, came back, and--well, I +couldn't help guessing the truth. Maruffi was in the house of one of +the officers who was supposed to be hunting him." + +"But his capture?" + +"Simple enough. I went to O'Neil and told him. We got a posse together +and went after him. We descended in such force and so suddenly that he +didn't have a chance to resist. If I'd known who he was at first I'd +have tried to take him single-handed." + +"Then it's well you didn't know." Blake smiled. + +"What bothers me," Dreux confessed, "is how Mrs. Poggi regards my +action. I--I hate to appear a cad. I'd apologize if I dared." + +Vittoria appeared to warn Dreux that his visit must end. When the +little man had gone Norvin inquired: + +"You knew of Maruffi's arrest?" + +"Oh, yes!" + +"Why didn't you tell me?" + +"You were in no condition to hear news of importance." + +"Is that why you have been so silent?" + +"Hush! You have talked quite enough for the present." + +"You act strangely--differently," he insisted. + +"I am your nurse. I am responsible for your recovery, so I do as I am +ordered." + +"And you haven't changed?" he inquired, wistfully. + +"Not at all, I am quite the same--quite the same girl you knew in +Sicily!" He did not relish her undertone, and wondered if illness had +quickened his imagination, if he was forever seeing more in her +manner, hearing more in her words than she meant. There was something +intangibly cold and distant about her, or seemed to be. During the +first feverish hours after his return to consciousness he had seen her +hanging over him with a wonderful loving tenderness--it was that which +had closed his wounds and brought him back toward health so swiftly; +but as his brain had cleared and he had grown more rational this +vision had disappeared along with his other fancies. + +He wondered whether knowledge of his pseudo-engagement to Myra Nell +had anything to do with her manner. He knew that she was in the girl's +confidence. Naturally, he himself was not quite at his ease in regard +to Miss Warren. The rumor about his advancing the money for her +Carnival expenses had been quieted through Bernie's efforts, and the +knowledge of it restricted to a necessary few. Although Myra Nell had +refused his offers of marriage and treated the matter lightly, he +could not help feeling that this attitude was assumed or exaggerated +to cover her humiliation--or was it something deeper? It would be +terrible if she really cared for him in earnest. Her own character +protected her from scandal. The breaking-off of his supposed +engagement with her could not hurt her--unless she really loved him. +He closed his eyes, cursing Bernie inwardly. After a time he again +addressed Vittoria. + +"Tell me," he said, "how Maruffi came to spare you. My last vision was +of him aiming--" + +"He had but four shots." + +"Four?" + +"Yes, he had used two in his escape from the officers--before he came +here." + +"I see! It was horrible. I felt as if I had failed you at the critical +moment, just as I failed--" + +"As you failed whom?" + +"Martel!" The word sounded in his ears with a terrible significance; +he could hardly realize that he had spoken it. He had always meant to +tell her, of course, but the moment had taken him unawares. His +conscience, his inmost feeling, had found a voice apart from his +volition. There was a little silence. At length she said in a low, +constrained tone. + +"Did you fail--him?" + +"I--I did," he said, chokingly; and, the way once opened, he made a +full and free confession of his craven fear that night on the road to +Terranova, told her of the inherent cowardice which had ever since +tortured and shamed him, and of his efforts to reconstruct his whole +being. "I wanted to expiate my sin," he finished, "and, above all, I +have longed to prove myself a man in your sight." + +She listened with white, set face, slightly averted. When she turned +to him at last, he saw that her eyes were wet with tears. + +"I cannot judge of these matters," she said. "You--you were no coward +the other night, amico mio. You were the bravest of the brave. You +saved my life. As for that other time, do not ask me to turn back and +judge. You perhaps blame yourself too much. It was not as if you could +have saved Martel. It is rather that you should have at least tried-- +that is how you feel, is it not? You had to reckon with your own sense +of honor. Well, you have won your fight; you have become a new person, +and you are not to be held responsible for any action of that Norvin +Blake I knew in Sicily, who, indeed, did not know his own weakness and +could not guard against it. Ever since I met you here in New Orleans I +have known you for a brave, strong man. It is splendid--the way in +which you have conquered yourself--splendid! Few men could have done +it. Be comforted," she added, with a note of tenderness that answered +the pleading in his eyes--"there is no bitterness in my heart." + +"Margherita," he cried, desperately, "can't you--won't you--" + +"Oh," she interposed, peremptorily, "do not say it. I forbid you to +speak." Then, as he fell silent, she continued in a manner she strove +to make natural: "That dear girl, Myra Nell Warren, has inquired about +you daily. She has been distracted, heartbroken. Believe me, caro +Norvin, there is a true and loving woman whom you cannot cast aside. +She seems frivolous on the surface, I grant you. Even I have been +deceived. But at the time of Mr. Dreux's dreadful faux pas she was so +hurt, she grieved so that I couldn't but believe she felt deeply." + +Norvin flushed dully and said nothing. + +Vittoria smiled down upon him with a look that was half maternal in +its sweetness. + +"All this has been painful for you," she said, "and you have become +over-excited. You must not talk any more now. You are to be moved +soon." + +"Aren't you going to be my nurse any more?" + +"You are to be taken home." + +His hand encountered hers, and he tried to thank her for what she had +done, but she rose and, admonishing him to sleep, left the room +somewhat hurriedly. + +In the short time which intervened before Norvin was taken to his own +quarters Vittoria maintained her air of cool detachment. Myra Nell +came once, bringing Bernie with her, much to the sick man's relief; +his other friends began to visit him in rapidly increasing numbers; he +gradually took up the threads of his every-day life which had been so +rudely severed. Meanwhile, he had ample time to think over his +situation. He could not persuade himself that Vittoria had been right +in her reading of Myra Nell. Perhaps she had only put this view +forward to shield herself from the expression of a love she was not +ready to receive. He could not believe that he had been deluded, that +there was in reality no hope for him. + +Mardi Gras week found him still in bed and unable to witness Myra +Nell's triumph. During the days of furious social activity she had +little time to give him, for the series of luncheons, of pageants, of +gorgeous tableaux and brilliant masked balls kept her in a whirl of +rapturous confusion, and left her scant leisure in which to snatch +even her beauty sleep. + +Since she was to be the flower of the festival, and since her beauty +was being saved for the grand climax of the whole affair, she had no +idea of sacrificing it. Proteus, Momus, the Mistick Krewe of Comus, +and the other lesser societies celebrated their distinctive nights +with torch and float and tableau; the city was transformed by day with +bunting and flags, by night it was garlanded with fire; merrymakers +thronged the streets, their carnival spirit entered into every breast. +It was a glad, mad week of gaiety, of dancing, of laughter, of +flirting and love-making under the glamour of balmy skies and velvet +torch-lit nights; and to the pleasure of the women was added the +delicious torture of curiosity regarding those mysterious men in masks +who came through a blaze of fire and departed, no one knew whither. + +As the spirit of the celebration mounted, Myra Nell abandoned herself +to it; she lived amid a bewilderment of social obligations, through +which she strove incessantly to discover the identity of her King. +Finding herself unsuccessful in this, her excitement redoubled. At +last came his entrance to the city; the booming cannon, the applauding +thousands, his royal progress through the streets toward the +flower-festooned stand where she looked down upon the multitude. Miss +Warren's maids of honor were the fairest of all this fair city, and +yet she stood out of that galaxy as by far the most entrancing. + +Her royal consort came at length, a majestic figure upon a float of +ivory and gold; he took the goblet from her hand; he pledged her with +silent grace while the assembled hordes shouted their allegiance to +the pair. She knew he must be very handsome underneath his mask; and +he was bold also, in a quite unkingly way, for there was more in his +glance than the greeting of a monarch; there was ardent love, a +burning adoration which thrilled her breast and fanned her curiosity +to a leaping flame. This was, indeed, life, romance, the purple +splendor for which she had been born. She could scarcely contain +herself until the hour of the Rex ball, when she knew her chance would +come to match her charm and beauty against his voiceless secrecy. She +was no longer a make-believe queen, but a royal ruler, beloved by her +subjects, adored by her throne-mate. Then the glittering ball that +followed!--the blazing lights, the splendid pantomime, the great +shifting kaleidoscope of beauteous ladies and knightly men in gold and +satin and coats of mail! And, above all, the maddening mystery of that +king at her side whose glances were now melting with melancholy, now +ablaze with eagerness, and whose whispered words, muffled behind his +mask, were not those of a monarch, but rather those of a bold and +audacious lover! He poured his vows into her blushing ear; he set her +wits to scampering madly; his sincere passion, together with the +dream-like unreality of the scene, intoxicated her. Who could he be? +How dared he say these things? What faint familiar echo did his voice +possess? Which one of her many admirers had the delightful effrontery +to court her thus ardently beneath a thousand eyes? He was drunk with +the glory of this hour, it seemed, for he whispered words she dared +not listen to. What preposterous proposals he voiced; what insane +audacity he showed! And yet he was in deadly earnest, too. She +canvassed her many suitors in her mind, she tried artfully to trap him +into some betrayal; the game thrilled her with a keen delight. At last +she realized there was but one who possessed such brazen impudence, +and told him she had known him from the first, whereat he laughed with +the abandon of a pagan and renewed the fervor of his suit. + +Blake learned from many sources that Myra Nell had made a gorgeous +Queen. The papers lauded her grace, her beauty, the magnificence of +her costumes. Bernie was full of it and could talk of nothing else +when he dropped in as usual. + +"She's all tired out, and I reckon she'll sleep for a week. I hope so, +anyhow." + +"I'm sorry I couldn't see her, but I'm glad I escaped the Carnival. +The Mardi Gras is hard enough on the women; but it kills us men." + +"I should say so. Look at me--a wreck." After a moment he added: "You +think Myra Nell is all frivolity and glitter, but she isn't; she's as +deep as the sea, Norvin. I can't tell you how glad I am that you two-- +"Blake stirred uneasily. "I--I admire you tremendously, for you're +just what I wanted to be and couldn't. I'm talking foolishly, I know, +but this Carnival has made me see Myra Nell in a new light; I see now +that she was born for joy and luxury and splendor and--and those +things which you can give her. She's been a care to me. I've been her +mother; I've actually made her dresses--but I'm glad now for all my +little sacrifices." Two tears gathered and trickled down Mr. Dreux's +cheeks, while Blake marveled at the strange mixture of qualities in +this withered little beau. Bernie's words left him very uncomfortable, +however, and the hours that followed did not lessen the feeling. + +Although Myra Nell sent him daily messages and gifts--now books, now +flowers, now a plate of fudge which she had made with her own hands +and which he was hard put to dispose of--she nevertheless maintained a +shy embarrassment and came to see him but seldom. When she did call, +her attitude was most unusual: she overflowed with gossip, yet she +talked with a nervous hesitation; when she found his eyes upon her she +stammered, flushed, and paled; and he caught her stealing glances of +miserable appeal at him. She was very different from the girl he had +known and had learned to love in a big, impersonal way. He +attributed the change to his own failure in responding to her timid +advances, and this made him quite unhappy. + +Nor did he see much of Vittoria, although Oliveta came daily to +inquire about his progress. + +He was up and about in time for the Mafia trial; but his duties in +connection with it left him little leisure for society, which he was +indeed glad to escape. New Orleans, he found, was on tiptoe for the +climax of the tragedy which had so long been its source of ferment; +the public was roused to a new and even keener suspense than at any +time--not so much, perhaps, by the reopening of the case as by the +rumors of bribery and corruption which were gaining ground. A +startling array of legal talent had appeared for the defense; the +trial was expected to prove the greatest legal battle in the history +of the commonwealth. + +Maruffi, with his genius for control, had assumed an iron-bound +leadership and laughed openly at the possibility of a conviction. He +had struck the note of persecution, making a patriotic appeal to the +Italian populace; and the foreign section of the city seethed in +consequence. + +On the opening day the court-room was packed, the halls and corridors +of the Criminal Court building were filled to suffocation, the +neighboring streets were jammed with people clamoring for admittance +and hungry for news from within. Then began the long, tedious task of +selecting a jury. Public opinion had run so high that this was no easy +undertaking. As day after day went by in the monotonous examination +and challenge of talesmen, as panel after panel was exhausted with no +result, not only did the ridiculous shortcomings of our jury system +become apparent, but also the fact that the Mafia had, as usual, made +full use of its sinister powers of intimidation. In view of the +atrocious character of the crime and the immense publicity given it, +those citizens who were qualified by intelligence to act as jurors had +of necessity read and heard sufficient to form an opinion, and were +therefore automatically debarred from service. It became necessary to +place the final adjudication of the matter in the hands of men who +were either utterly indifferent to the public weal or lacked the +intelligence to read and weigh and think. + +A remarkable wave of humanity seemed to have overwhelmed the city. +Four out of every five men examined professed a disbelief in capital +punishment, which, although it merely covered a fear of the Mafia's +antagonism, nevertheless excused them for cause. Day after day this +mockery went on. + +As the list of talesmen grew into the hundreds and the same +extraordinary antipathy to hanging continued to manifest itself, it +occasioned remark, then ridicule. It would have been laughable had it +not been so significant. The papers took it up, urging, exhorting, +demanding that there be a stiffening of backbone; but to no effect. +More than this, the Mafia had reigned so long and so autocratically, +it had so shamefully abused the courts in the past, that a large +proportion of honest men declared themselves unwilling to believe +Sicilian testimony unless corroborated, and this prevented them from +serving. + +A week went by, and then another, and still twelve men who could try +the issue fairly had not been found. Some few had been accepted, to be +sure, but they were not representative of the city, and the list of +talesmen who had been examined and excused on one pretext or another +numbered fully a thousand. + +Meanwhile, Maruffi smiled and shrugged and maintained his innocence. + + + + +XXIII + +THE TRIAL AND THE VERDICT + + + +Blake did not attend these tiresome preliminaries, although he +followed them with intense interest, the while a sardonic irritation +arose in him. Chancing to meet Mayor Wright one day, he said: + +"I'm beginning to think my original plan was the best after all." + +"You mean we should have lynched those fellows as they were taken?" +queried the Mayor, with a smile. + +"Something like that." + +"It won't take long to fix their guilt or innocence, once we get a +jury." + +"Perhaps--if we ever get one. But the men of New Orleans seem filled +with a quality of mercy which isn't tempered with justice. Those who +haven't already formed an opinion of the case are incompetent to act +as intelligent jurors. Those who could render a fair judgment are +afraid." + +"You don't think there's any chance of an acquittal!" + +"Hardly! And yet I hear the defense has called two hundred witnesses, +so there's no telling what they will prove. You see, the prosecution +is handicapped by a regard for the truth, something which doesn't +trouble the other side in the least." + +"Suppose they should be acquitted?" + +"It would mean the breakdown of our legal system." + +"And what would happen?" + +Blake repeated the question, eyeing the Mayor curiously. + +"Exactly! What would happen? What ought to happen?" + +"Why, nothing," said the other, nervously. "They'd go free, I suppose. +But Maruffi can't get off--he resisted an officer." + +"Bah! He'd prove that Johnson assaulted him and he acted in +self-defense." + +"He'd have to answer for his attack upon you." + +Norvin gave a peculiarly disagreeable laugh. "Not at all. That's the +least of his sins. If the law fails in the Donnelly case I sha'n't ask +it to help me." + +But his pessimism gave way to a more hopeful frame of mind when the +jury was finally impaneled and sworn and the trial began. The whole +city likewise heaved a sigh of relief. The people had been puzzled and +disgusted by the delay, and now looked forward to the outcome with all +the keener eagerness to see justice done. Even before the hour for +opening, the streets around the Criminal Court were thronged; the +halls and lobbies were packed with a crowd which gave evidence of a +breathless interest. No inch of space in the court-room was +untenanted; an air of deep importance, a hush of strained expectancy +lay over all. + +Norvin found himself in a room with the other witnesses for the State, +a goodly crowd of men and women, whites and blacks, many of whom he +had been instrumental in ferreting out. From beyond came the murmur of +a great assemblage, the shuffling of restless feet, the breathing of a +densely packed audience. The wait grew tedious as witness after +witness was summoned and did not return. At last he heard his own name +called, and was escorted down a narrow aisle into an inclosure peopled +with lawyers, reporters, and court officials, above which towered the +dais of the judge, the throne of justice. He mounted the witness-stand, +was sworn, and seated himself, then permitted his eyes to take in the +scene. Before him, stretching back to the distant walls, was a sea of +faces; to his right was the jury, which he scanned with the quick +appraisal of one skilled in human analysis. Between him and his +audience were the distinguished counsel, a dozen or more; and back of +them eleven swarthy, dark-visaged Sicilian men, seated in a row. At +one end sat Caesar Maruffi, massive, calm, powerful; at the other end +sat Gino Cressi, huddled beside his father, his pinched face +bewildered and terror-stricken. + +A buzz of voices arose as the crowd caught its first full glimpse of +the man who had so nearly lost his life through his efforts to bring +these criminals to justice. Upon Maruffi's face was a look of such +malignant hate that the witness stiffened in his chair. For one brief +instant the Sicilian laid bare his soul, as their eyes met, then his +cunning returned; the fire died from his impenetrable eyes; he was +again the handsome, solid merchant who had sat with Donnelly at the +Red Wing Club. The man showed no effect of his imprisonment and +betrayed no sign of fear. + +Norvin told his story simply, clearly, with a positiveness which could +not fail to impress the jury; he withstood a grilling cross-examination at +the hands of a criminal lawyer whose reputation was more than +State-wide; and when he finally descended from the stand, Larubio, +the cobbler, the senior Cressi, and Frank Normando stood within the +shadow of the gallows. Normando he identified as the man in the +rubber coat whose face he had clearly seen as the final shot was fired; +he pointed out Gino Cressi as the picket who had given warning +of the Chief's approach, then told of his share in the lad's arrest and +what Gino had said. Concerning the other three who had helped in +the shooting he had no conclusive evidence to offer; nevertheless, it +was plain that his testimony had dealt a damaging blow to the defense. +Yet Maruffi's glance showed no concern, but rather a veiled and +mocking insolence. + +As Blake passed out, young Cressi reached forth a timid hand and +plucked at him, whispering: + +"Signore, you said they would not hurt me." + +"Don't be afraid. No one shall harm you," he told the boy, +reassuringly. + +"You promise?" + +"Yes." + +Cressi snatched his son to his side and scowled upward, breathing a +malediction upon the American. + +Inasmuch as the assassination had been carefully planned and executed +at a late hour on a deserted street, it was popularly believed that +very little direct testimony would be brought out, and that a +conviction, therefore, would rest mainly upon circumstantial evidence; +but as the trial progressed the case against the prisoners developed +unexpected strength. Had Donnelly fallen at the first volley, his +assailants would, in all probability, never have been identified, but +he had stood and returned their fire for a considerable time, thus +allowing opportunity for those living near by to reach their windows +or to run into the street in time to catch at least a glimpse of the +tragedy. Few saw more than a little, no one could identify all six of +the assailants; but so thoroughly had the prosecution worked, so +cunningly had it put these pieces together, that the whole scene was +reproduced in the court-room. The murderers were singled out one by +one and identified beyond a reasonable doubt. + +One witness had passed Larubio's shop a few minutes before the +shooting and had recognized the cobbler and his brother-in-law, +Gaspardo Cressi. He also pointed out Normando and Paul Rafiro, both of +whom he knew by sight. + +From an upper window of a house near by another man who had been +awakened by the noise saw Normando and Celso Fabbri in the act of +firing. A woman living opposite the cobbler's house peered out into +the smoke and flare in time to see Adriano Dora kneeling in the middle +of the street. He was facing her; the light was fairly good; there +could be no mistake. Various residents of the neighborhood had similar +tales to tell, for, while no one had seen the beginning of the fight, +a dozen pairs of eyes had looked out upon the finish, and many of +these had recorded a definite picture of one or more of the actors. A +gentleman returning from a lodge-meeting had even found himself on the +edge of the battle, and had been so frightened that he ran straight +home. He had learned, later, the significance of the fray, and had +told nobody about his experience until Norvin Blake had traced him out +and wrung the story from him. He feared the Mafia with the fear of +death; but descending from the stand he pointed out four of the +assassins--Normando, Fabbri, Rafiro, and Dora. He had seen them in the +very act of firing. + +A watchman on duty near by saw the boy Gino running past a moment +before the shooting began; then, as he hurried toward the disturbance, +he met Normando, Dora, and Rafiro coming toward him. The first of +these carried a shotgun, which dropped into the gutter as he slipped +and fell. The weapon and the suit of clothes Normando had worn were +produced and identified. It transpired that this witness knew Paul +Rafiro well, and for that reason had refused to tell what he knew +until Norvin Blake had come to him and forced the words from his lips. + +So it ran; the chain of evidence grew heavier with every hour. It +seemed that some superhuman agency must have set the stage for the +tragedy, posting witnesses at advantageous points. People marveled how +so many eyes had gazed through the empty, rainy night; it was as if a +mysterious hand had reached out of nowhere and brought together the +onlookers, one by one, willing and unwilling, friend and enemy alike. + +A more conclusive case than the State advanced against the six hired +murderers during the first few days would be hard to conceive, and the +public began to look for equally conclusive proof against the master +ruffian and his lieutenants; but through it all Maruffi sat +unperturbed, guiding the counsel with a word or a suggestion, in his +bearing a calm self-assurance. + +Then came a surprise which roused the whole city. From out of the +parish prison appeared another Italian, a counterfeiter, who had +recently been arrested, and who proved to be a Pinkerton detective +"planted" among the Mafiosi for a purpose. Larubio had been a +counterfeiter in Sicily--it was in the government prison that he had +learned his cobbler's trade; and out of the fullness of his heart he +had talked--so the detective swore--concerning these foolish Americans +who sought to stay the hand of La Mafia. Nor had he been the only one +to commit himself. Di Marco, Garcia, and the other two lieutenants +turned livid as the stool-pigeon confronted them with their own words. + +On the heels of this came the crowning dramatic moment of the trial. + +Normando broke down and tried to confess in open court. He was a dull, +ignorant man, with a bestial face and a coward's eye. This unexpected +treachery, his own complete identification, had put an intolerable +strain upon him. Without warning, he rose to his feet in the crowded +court-room and cried loudly in his own tongue: + +"Madonna mia! I do not want to die! I confess! I confess!" + +Norvin Blake, who had been watching the proceedings from the audience, +leaped from his seat as if electrified; other spectators followed, for +even among those who could not understand the fellow's words it was +seen that he was breaking. Normando's ghastly pallor, his wet and +twitching lips, his shaking hands, all told the story. Confusion +followed. Amid the hubbub of startled voices, the stir of feet, the +interruption of counsel, the wretch ran on, repeating his fear of +death and his desire to confess, meanwhile beating his breast in +hysterical frenzy. + +Of all the Americans present perhaps Norvin alone understood exactly +what the Sicilian was saying and why consternation had fallen upon the +other prisoners. Larubio went white; a blind and savage fury leaped +into Maruffi's face; the other nine wilted or stiffened according to +the effect fear had upon them. + +A death-like hush succeeded the first outbreak, and through Normando's +gabble came the judge's voice calling for an interpreter. There was no +need for the crier to demand silence; every ear was strained for the +disclosures that seemed imminent. + +Blake was forcing himself forward to offer his services when the +wretch's wavering eyes caught something in the audience and rested +there. The death sign of the Brotherhood was flashed at him; he +halted. His tongue ran thickly for a moment; then he sank into his +chair, and, burying his head in his hands, began to rock from side to +side, sobbing and muttering. Nor would he say more, even when a recess +was declared and he was taken into the judge's chambers. Thereafter he +maintained a sullen, hopeless silence which nothing could break, +glaring at his captors with the defiance of a beast at bay. But the +episode had had its effect; it seemed that no one could now doubt the +guilt of the prisoners. + +The assurance of conviction grew as it was proven that Maruffi himself +had rented Larubio's shop and laid the trap for Donnelly's +destruction. Step by step the plot was bared in all its hideous +detail. The blood money was traced from the six hirelings up through +the four superiors to Caesar himself. Then followed the effort to show +a motive for the crime--not a difficult task, since every one knew of +Donnelly's work against the Mafia. Maruffi's domination of the Society +was harder to bring out; but when the State finally rested its case, +even Blake, who had been dubious from the start, confessed that +American law and American courts had demonstrated their efficiency. + +During all this time his relations with Vittoria remained unchanged. +She and Oliveta eagerly welcomed his reports of the trial; but she +never permitted him to see her alone, and he felt that she was +deliberately withdrawing from him. He met her only for brief +interviews. Of Myra Nell, meanwhile, he saw nothing, since, with +characteristic abruptness, she had decided to visit some forgotten +cousins in Mobile. + +Of all those who followed the famous Mafia trial, detail by detail, +perhaps no one did so with greater fixity of interest than Bernie +Dreux. He reveled in it, he talked of nothing else, his waking hours +were spent in the courtroom, his dreams were peopled with Sicilian +figures. He hung upon Norvin, his hero, with a tenacity that was +trying; he discussed the evidence bit by bit; he ran to him with every +rumor, every fresh development. As the prosecution made its case his +triumph became fierce and fearful to behold; then when the defense +began its crafty efforts he grew furiously indignant, a mighty rage +shook him, he swelled and choked with resentment. + +"What do you think?" he inquired, one day. "They're proving alibis, +one by one! It's infamous!" + +"It will take considerable Sicilian testimony to offset the effect of +our witnesses," Blake told him. + +But Dreux looked upon the efforts of the opposing lawyers as a +personal affront, and so declared himself. + +"Why, they're trying to make you out a liar! That's what it amounts +to. The law never intended that a gentleman's word should be disputed. +If I were the judge I'd close the case right now and instruct the +sheriff to hang all the prisoners, including their attorneys." + +"They'll never be acquitted." + +Bernie shook his head morosely. + +"There's a rumor of jury-fixing. I hear one of the talesmen was +approached with a bribe before the trial." + +"I can scarcely believe that." + +"I'll bet it's true just the same. If I'd known what they were up to +I'd have got on the jury myself. I'd have taken their money, then I'd +have fixed 'em!" + +"You'd have voted for eleven hemp neckties, eh?" + +"I'd have hung each man twice." + +Although Blake at first refused to credit the rumors of corruption, +the following days served to verify them, for more than one juryman +confessed to receiving offers. This caused a sensation which grew as +the papers took up the matter and commented editorially. A leading +witness for the State finally told of an effort to intimidate him, and +men began to ask if this was destined to prove as rotten as other +Mafia cases in the past. A feeling of unrest, of impatience, began to +manifest itself, vague threats were voiced, but the idea of a bribed +or terrorized jury was so preposterous that few gave credence to it. +Nevertheless, the closing days of the trial were weighted heavily with +suspense. Not only the city, but the country at large, hung upon the +outcome. So strongly had racial antipathy figured that Italy took note +of the case, and it assumed an international importance. Biased +accounts were cabled abroad which led to an uneasy stir in ministerial +and consular quarters. + +During the exhaustive arguments at the close of the trial Norvin and +Bernie sat together. When the opening attorneys for the prosecution +had finished, Dreux exclaimed, triumphantly: + +"We've got 'em! They can't escape after that." + +But when the defense in turn had closed, the little man revealed an +indignant face to his companion, saying: + +"Lord! They're as good as free! We'll never convict on evidence like +that." + +Once more he changed, under the spell of the masterly State's +attorney, and declared with fierce exultance: + +"What did I tell you? They'll hang every mother's son of 'em. The jury +won't be out an hour." + +The jury was out more than an hour, even though press and public +declared the case to be clear. Yet, knowing that the eyes of the world +were upon her, New Orleans went to sleep that night serene in the +certainty that she had vindicated herself, had upheld her laws, and +proved her ability to deal with that organized lawlessness which had +so long been a blot upon her fair name. + +Soon after court convened on the following morning the jury sent word +that they had reached a verdict, and the court-room quickly filled. +Rumors of Caesar Maruffi's double identity had gone forth; it was +hinted that he was none other than the dreaded Belisario Cardi, that +genius of a thousand crimes who had held all Sicily in fear. This +report supplied the last touch of dramatic interest. + +Blake and Bernie were in their places before the prisoners arrived. +Every face in the room was tense and expectant; even the calloused +attendants felt the hush and lowered their voices in deference. Every +eye was strained toward the door behind which the jury was concealed. +There came the rumble of the prison van below, the tramp of feet upon +the hollow stairs, and into the dingy, high-ceilinged hall of justice +filed the accused, manacled and doubly guarded. Maruffi led, his black +head held high; Normando brought up the rear, supported by two +officers. He was racked with terror, his body hung like a sack, a +moisture of foam and spittle lay upon his lips. When he reached the +railing of the prisoners' box he clutched it and resisted loosely, +sobbing in his throat; but he was thrust forward into a seat, where he +collapsed. + +The judge and the attorneys were in their places when a deputy sheriff +swung open the door to the jury-room and the "twelve good men and +true" appeared. As if through the silence of a tomb they went to their +stations while eleven pairs of black Sicilian eyes searched their +downcast features for a sign. Larubio, the cobbler, was paper-white +above his smoky beard; Di Marco's swarthy face was green, like that of +a corpse; his companions were frozen in various attitudes of eager, +dreadful waiting. The only sound through the scuff and tramp of the +jurors' feet was Normando's lunatic murmuring. As for the leader of +the band, he sat as if graven in stone; but, despite his iron control, +a pallor had crept up beneath his skin. + +Blake heard Bernie whisper: + +"Look! They know they're lost." + +"Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon a verdict?" came the +voice of the judge. + +The foreman rose. "We have." + +He passed a document up to the bench, and silently the court examined +it. + +The seconds were now creeping minutes. Normando's ceaseless mumbling +was like that of a man distraught by torture. A hand was used to +silence him. The spectators were upon their feet and bent forward in +attention; the cordon of officers closed in behind the accused as if +to throttle any act of desperation. + +The judge passed the verdict down to the minute clerk, who read in a +clear, distinct, monotonous tone: + +"Celso Fabbri, Frank Normando, mistrial. Salvatore di Marco, Frank +Garcia, Giordano Bolla"--the list of names seemed interminable-- +"Gaspardo Cressi, Lorenzo Cardoni, Caesar Maruffi"--he paused for an +instant while time halted--"not guilty." + +After the first moment of stunned stupefaction a murmur of angry +disapproval ran through the crowd; it was not loud, but hushed, as if +men doubted their senses and were seeking corroboration of their ears. +From the street below, as the judgment was flashed to the waiting +hundreds, came an echo, faint, unformed, like the first vague stir +that runs ahead of a tempest. + +The shock of Norvin Blake's amazement in part blurred his memory of +that dramatic tableau, but certain details stood out clearly +afterwards. For one thing he heard Bernie Dreux giggling like an +overwrought woman, while through his hysteria ran a stream of shocking +curses He saw one of the jurors rise, yawn, and stretch himself, then +rub his bullet head, smiling meanwhile at the Cressi boy. He saw +Caesar Maruffi turn full to the room behind him and search for his own +face. When their eyes met, a light of devilish amusement lit the +Sicilian's visage; his lips parted and his white teeth gleamed, but it +was no smile, rather the nervous, rippling twitch that bares a wolf's +fangs. His color had come flooding back, too; victory suffused him +with a ruddy, purple congestion, almost apoplectic. Then heads came +between them; friends of the prisoners crowded forward with noisy +congratulations and outstretched palms; the rival attorneys were +shaking hands. + +Blake found himself borne along by the eddying stream which set out of +the court-room and down into the sunlit street, where the curbs were +lined with uplifted faces. Dreux was close beside him, quite silent +now. A similar silence brooded over the whole procession which emerged +from the building like a funeral cortege. When the moments brought +home the truth to its members they felt, indeed, as if they came from +a house of death, for they had seen Justice murdered, and the chill +was in their hearts. + +But there was something sinister in the hush which gagged that +multitude. + +Many readers will doubtless recall, even now, the shock that went +through this country at the conclusion of the famous New Orleans Mafia +trial of twenty years ago. They will, perhaps, remember a general +feeling of surprise that an American jury would dare, in the face of +such popular feeling and such apparently overwhelming evidence, to +render a verdict of "not guilty." In some quarters the farcical +outcome of the trial was blamed upon Louisiana's peculiar legal code. +But the truth is our Northern cities had not at that time felt the +power of organized crime. New York, for instance, had not been shaken +by an interminable succession of dynamite outrages nor terrorized by +bands of Latin-born Apaches who live by violence and blackmail; +therefore, the tremendous difficulty of securing convictions was not +appreciated as it is to-day. + +There was a universal suspicion that the last word concerning the New +Orleans affair had not been written, so what followed was not entirely +a surprise. + + + + +XXIV + +AT THE FEET OF THE STATUE + + + +Two hours after the verdict there was a meeting of the Committee of +Justice, and that night the evening papers carried the following +notice: + + "MASS-MEETING" + +"All good citizens are invited to attend a mass-meeting to-morrow +morning at 10 o'clock at Clay Statue, to take steps to remedy the +failure of justice in the Donnelly case. Come prepared for action." + +It was signed by the fifty well-known men who had been appointed to +represent the people. That incredible verdict had caused a great +excitement; but this bold and threatening appeal brought the city up +standing. It caused men who had been loudly cursing the jury to halt +and measure the true depth of their indignation. There was no other +topic of conversation that night; and when the same call appeared in +the morning papers, together with a ringing column headed, + + "AWAKE! ARISE!" + +it stirred a swift and mighty public sentiment. Never, perhaps, in any +public press had so sanguinary an appeal been issued. + +"Citizens of New Orleans," it read in part, "when murder overrides law +and justice, when juries are bribed and suborners go unwhipped, it is +time to resort to your own indefeasible right of self-preservation. +Alien bands of oath-bound assassins have set the blot of a martyr's +blood upon your civilization. Your laws, in the very Temple of +Justice, have been bought, suborners have loosed upon your streets the +midnight murderers of an officer in whose grave lies the majesty of +American law. + +"Rise in your might, people of New Orleans! Rise!" + +A similar note was struck by editorials, many of them couched in +language even stronger and more suited to fan the public rage. The +recent trial was called an outrageous travesty on justice; attention +was directed to the damnable vagaries of recent juries which had been +impaneled to try red-handed Italian murderers. + +"Our city is become the haven of blackmailers and assassins, the safe +vantage-ground for Sicilian stilletto bands who slay our legal +officers, who buy jurors, and corrupt sworn witnesses under the hooded +eyes of Justice. How much longer will this outrage be permitted?" So +read a heavily typed article in the leading journal. + +A wave of fierce determination ran through the whole community. + +Margherita Ginini was waiting at Blake's place of business when he +arrived, after a night of sleepless worry. She, too, showed evidence +of a painful vigil; her hand was shaking as she held out a copy of the +morning paper, inquiring: + +"What is the meaning of this?" + +"It means we're no longer in Sicily," he said. + +"You intend to--kill those men?" + +"I fear something like that may occur. The question will be put up to +the people, plainly." + +She clutched the edge of his desk, staring at him with wide, tragic +eyes. + +"Your name heads the list. Did--you do this?" + +"I am the chairman of that committee. I did my part." + +"But the law declares them innocent," she gasped--"all but two, and +they can be tried over again." + +"The law!" He smiled bitterly. "Do you believe that?" + +"I believe they are guilty--who can doubt it? But this lawlessness-- +this mad cry for revenge--it is against all my beliefs, my religion. +Oh, my friend, can't you stop it? At least take no part in it--for my +sake." + +His look was hard, yet regretful, + +"For your sake I would give my life gladly," he said, "but there are +times when one must act his destined part. That verdict holds me up to +the public as a perjurer; but that is a small matter. Oh, I have had +my scruples; I have questioned my conscience, and deep in my heart I +see that there is only one way. I'd be a hypocrite if I denied it. I'm +wrong, perhaps, but I can't be untrue to myself." + +"We know but a part of the truth," she urged, desperately. "God alone +knows it all. You saw three men--there are others whom you did not +see." + +"They were seen by other eyes quite as trustworthy as mine." + +She wrung her hands miserably, crying: + +"But wait! Guilty or innocent, they have appeared in judgment, and the +law has acquitted them. You urge upon the people now a crime greater +than theirs. Two wrongs do not make a right. Who are you to raise +yourself above that power which is supreme?" + +"There's a law higher than the courts." + +"Yes, one; the law of God. If our means have failed, leave their +punishment to Him." + +He shook his head, no trace of yielding in his eyes. + +"One man was killed, and yet you contemplate the death of eleven!" + +"Listen," he cried, "this cause belongs to the people who have seen +their sacred institutions debauched. If I had the power to sway the +citizens of New Orleans from the course which I believe they +contemplate, I doubt that I could bring myself to exercise it, for it +is plain that the Mafia must be exterminated. The good of the city, +the safety of all of us, demands it." He regarded her curiously. "Do +you realize what Maruffi's freedom would mean to you and Oliveta?" + +"We are in God's hands." + +"It would require a miracle to save you. Caesar would have my life, +too; he told me as much with his eyes when that corrupted jury lifted +the fear of death from his heart." + +"So!" cried the girl. "You fear him, therefore you take this means of +destroying him! You goad the public and your friends into a red rage +and send them to murder your enemy." + +Her hysteria was not proof against the look which leaped into his +eyes--the pallor that left him facing her with the visage of a sick +man. + +"During the last five years," he said, slowly, "I've often tried to be +a man, but never until last night have I succeeded fully. When I +signed that call to arms I felt that I was writing Maruffi's death-warrant. +I hesitated for a time, then I put aside all thoughts of myself, and now +I'm prepared to meet this accusation. I knew it would come. The +world--my world--knows that Maruffi's life or mine hinges on his liberty; +if he dies by the mob to-day, that world will call me coward for my act; +it will say that I roused the passions of the populace to save myself. +Nevertheless, I was chosen leader of that committee, and I did their +will--as I shall do the will of the people." + +"The will of the people! You know very well that the people have no +will. They do what their leaders tell them." + +"My name is written. I am sorry that I cannot do as you wish." + +"But surely you do not deceive yourself," she insisted. "This is +wrong, oh, so inconceivably, so terribly wrong! You do not possess the +divine power to bestow life. How then can you dare to take it? By what +possible authority do you decree the destruction of your fellow-men +whom the law has adjudged innocent?" + +"By the sovereign authority of the public good. By the inherited right +of self-protection." + +"You would shoot them down, like caged animals?" + +"Those eleven individuals have ceased to exist as men. They represent +an infection, a diseased spot which must be cut out. They stand for +disorder and violence; to free them would be a crime, to give them +arms to defend themselves would be merely to increase their evil." + +"There is a child among them, too; would you have his death upon your +conscience?" + +"I told Gino he should come to no harm, and, God willing, he sha'n't." + +"How can you hope to stem the rage of a thousand madmen? A mob will +stop at no half measures. There are two men among the prisoners who +are entitled to another trial. Do you think the people will spare them +if they take the others?" He shrugged his shoulders doubtfully, and +she shuddered. "You shall not have the death of those defenseless men +upon your soul!" she cried. "Your hands at least shall remain clean." + +"Please don't urge me," he said. + +"But I do. I ask you to take no part in this barbarous uprising." + +"And I must refuse you." + +She looked at him wildly; her face was ashen as she continued: + +"You have said that you love me. Can't you make this sacrifice for me? +Can't you make this concession to my fears, my conscience, my beliefs? +I am only a woman, and I cannot face this grim and awful thing. I +cannot think of your part in it." + +The look she gave him went to his heart. + +"Margherita!" he cried, in torture; "don't you see I have no choice? I +couldn't yield, even if the price were--you and your love. You +wouldn't rob me of my manhood?" + +"I could never touch hands which were stained with the blood of +defenseless men--not even in friendship, you--understand?" + +"I understand!" For a second time the color left his face. + +Her glance wavered again, she swayed, then groped for the door, while +he stood like stone in his tracks. + +"Good-by!" he said, lifelessly. + +"Good-by!" she answered, in the same tone. "I have done my part. You +are a man, and you must do yours as you see it. But may God save you +from bloodshed." + +Long before the hour set for the gathering at Clay Statue the streets +in that vicinity began to fill. Men continued on past their places of +business; shops and offices remained closed; the wide strip of neutral +ground which divided the two sides of the city's leading thoroughfare +began to pack. Around the base of the monument groups of citizens +congregated until the cars were forced to slow down and proceed with a +clangor of gongs which served only as a tocsin to draw more recruits. +Vehicles came to a halt, were wedged dose to the curbs, and became +coigns of vantage; office windows, store-fronts, balconies, and roof-tops +began to cluster with a human freight. + +After a week of wind and rain the sun had risen in a sky that was +cloudless, save for a few thin streaks of shining silver which +resembled long polished rapiers or the gleaming spear-points of a host +still hidden below the horizon. The fragrance of shrubs and flowers, +long dormant, weighted the breeze. It was a glorious morning, fit for +love and laughter and little children. + +Nor did the rapidly swelling assemblage resemble in any measure a mob +bent upon violence. It was composed mainly of law-abiding business men +who greeted each other genially; in their grave, intelligent faces was +no hint of savagery or brutality. All traffic finally ceased, the +entire neighborhood was massed and clotted with waiting humanity; +then, as the hour struck, a running salvo of applause came from the +galleries and a cheer from the street when a handful of men was seen +crowding its way up to the base of the statue. It was composed of a +half-dozen prominent men who had been identified with the Committee of +Justice; among them was Norvin Blake. A hush followed as one of them +mounted the pedestal and began to speak. He was recognized as Judge +Blackmar, a wealthy lawyer, and his well-trained voice filled the wide +spaces from wall to wall; it went out over the sea of heads and up to +the crowded roof-tops. + +He told of the reasons which had inspired this indignation meeting; he +recounted the history of the Mafia in New Orleans, and recalled its +many outrages culminating in the assassination of Chief Donnelly. + +"Affairs have reached such a crisis," said he, "that we who live in an +organized and civilized community find our laws ineffective and are +forced to protect ourselves as best we may. When courts fail, the +people must act. What protection is left us, when our highest police +official is slain in our very midst by the Mafia and his assassins +turned loose upon us? This is not the first case of wilful murder and +supine justice; our court records are full of similar ones. The time +has come to say whether we shall tolerate these outrages further or +whether we shall set aside the verdict of an infamous and perjured +jury and cleanse our city of the ghouls which prey upon it. I ask you +to consider this question fairly. You have been assembled, not behind +closed doors, nor under the cloak of darkness, but in the heart of the +city, in the broad light of day, to take such action as honest men +must take to save their homes against a public enemy. What is your +answer?" + +A roar broke from all sides; an incoherent, wordless growling rumbled +down the street. Those on the outskirts of the assemblage who had come +merely from curiosity, or in doubt that anything would be +accomplished, began to press closer. + +A restless murmur, broken by the cries of excitable men, arose when +the second speaker took his place. Then as he spoke the temper of the +people began to manifest itself undeniably. The crowd swayed and +cheered; certain demands were voiced insistently; a wave of intense +excitement swept it as it heard its desires so boldly proclaimed. As +the heaving sea is lashed to fury by the wind, the people's rage +mounted higher with every sentence of the orator; every pause was +greeted with howls. Men stared into the faces around them, and, seeing +their own emotions mirrored, they were swept by an ever-increasing +agitation. There was a general impulse to advance at once upon the +parish prison, and knots of stragglers were already making in that +direction, while down from the telegraph-poles, from roofs and shed-tops +men were descending. All that seemed lacking for a concerted +movement was a leader, a bold figure, a ringing voice to set this army +in motion. + +Blake had been selected to make the third address and to put the issue +squarely up to the people; but, as he wedged his way forward to enact +his role, up to the feet of the statue squirmed and wriggled a figure +which assumed the place just vacated by the second speaker. + +It was Bernie Dreux, but a different Bernie from the man his amazed +friends in the crowd thought they knew. He was pale, and his limbs +shook under him, but his eyes blazed with a fire which brought a hush +of attention to all within sight of him. Up there against the heroic +figure of Henry Clay he looked more diminutive, more insignificant +than ever; but oddly enough he had attained a sudden dignity which +made him seem intensely masterful and alive. For a moment he paused, +erect and motionless, surveying that restless multitude which rocked +and rumbled for the distance of a full city square in both directions; +then he began. His voice, though high-pitched from emotion, was as +clear and ringing as a trumpet; it pierced to the farthest limits of +the giant audience and stirred it like a battle signal. The blood of +his forefathers had awakened at last; and old General Dreux, the man +of iron and fire and passion, was speaking through his son. + +"People of New Orleans," he cried, "I desire neither fame nor name nor +glory; I am here not as one of the Committee of Public Safety, but as +a plain citizen. Let me therefore speak for you; let mine be the lips +which give your answer. Fifty of our trusted townsmen were appointed +to assist in bringing the murderers of Chief Donnelly to justice. They +told us to wait upon the law. We waited, and the law failed. Our court +and our jury were debauched; our Committee comes back to us now, the +source from which it took its power, and acknowledges that it can do +no more. It lays the matter in our hands and asks for our decision. +Let me deliver the message: Justice must be done! Dan Donnelly must be +avenged to-day!" + +The clamor which had greeted the words of the previous speakers was as +nothing to the titanic bellow which burst forth acclaiming Dreux's. + +"This is the hour for action, not for talk," he continued, when he had +stilled them. "The Anglo-Saxon is slow to anger, and because of that +the Mafia has thrived among us; but once he is aroused, once his +rights are invaded and his laws assailed, his rage is a thing to +reckon with. Our Committee asks us if we are ready to take justice +into our own hands, and I answer, Yes!" + +A chaos of waving arms and of high-flung hats, a deafening crash of +voices again answered. + +"Then our speakers shall lead us. Judge Blackmar shall be the first in +command; Mr. Slade, who spoke after him, shall be second, and I shall +be the third in authority. Arm yourselves quickly, gentlemen, and may +God have mercy upon the souls of those eleven murderers." + +He leaped lightly down, and the great assemblage burst into motion, +streaming out Canal Street like a storming army. It boiled into side +streets and through every avenue which led in the direction of the +prison. At each corner it gathered strength; every thoroughfare +belched forth reinforcements; hundreds who had entertained no faintest +notion of taking part fell in, were swallowed up in the seething tide, +and went shouting to the very gates of the jail. + +Once that tossing river of humanity had been given force and direction +its character changed; it became a mailed dragon, it suddenly +blossomed with steel. Peaceful, middle-aged men who had stood beside +the monument buttoned up in peculiarly bulky overcoats were now +marching silently with weapons at their shoulders. + +Strangest of all, perhaps, was the greeting this army received on +every side. The flotsam and jetsam which swirled along in its eddies +or followed in its wake cheered, howled, and danced deliriously; men, +women, and children from doorways and galleries raised their voices +lustily, and applauded as if at some favorite carnival parade. In +notable contrast was the bearing of the armed men themselves; they +marched through the echoing streets like a regiment of mutes. + + + + +XXV + +THE APPEAL + + + +On the iron balcony of a house in the vicinity of the parish prison +the two Sicilian girls were standing. Across from them loomed the +great decaying structure with its little iron-barred windows and its +steel-ribbed doors behind which lay their countrymen. From inside came +the echo of a great hammering, as if a gallows were being erected; but +the square and the streets outside were quiet. + +"What time is it now?" Oliveta had repeated this question already a +dozen times. + +"It is after ten." + +"I hear nothing as yet, do you?" + +"Nothing!" + +"We could hear if it were not for that dreadful pounding yonder in the +jail." + +"Hush! They are building barricades." + +The peasant girl gasped and seized the iron railing in front of her. + +"Madonna mia! I am dying. Do you think Signore Blake will yield to +your appeal and turn the mob?" + +"I'm afraid not," said Vittoria, faintly. + +"He can do more than any other, for he is powerful; they will listen +to him. If Caesar should escape! I am shamed through and through to +have loved such a man, and yet to have him killed like a rat in a +hole! I pray, and I know not what I pray for--my thoughts are whirling +so. Do you hear anything from the city?" + +"No, no!" + +There was a moment's pause. + +"Those barricades will not allow them to enter, even if our friend +does not persuade them to disperse," + +"I have heard there is sometimes shooting." Vittoria shuddered. "It is +terrible for men to become brutes." + +"The time is growing late," Oliveta quavered. + +There was another period of silence while they strained their ears for +the faintest sound, but the fresh breeze wafted nothing to them. On a +neighboring gallery two housewives were gossiping; a child was playing +on the walk beneath, and his piping laughter sounded strangely +incongruous. From across the way rose that desultory pounding as +spikes were driven home and beams were nailed in place. Through a +grated aperture in the prison wall an armed man peered down the +street. + +"Caesar is cunning," Oliveta broke out. "He is not one to be easily +caught. He is brave, too. Ah, God! how I loved him and how I have +hated him!" Ever since Maruffi's capture she had remained in a frame +of mind scarcely rational, fluctuating between a silent, sullen mood +of revenge and a sense of horror at her betrayal of the man who had +once possessed her whole heart. + +"It can't be that you still care for him?" + +"No, I loathe him, and if he escapes he would surely kill me. Yet +sometimes I wish it." She began mumbling to herself. "Look!" she +cried, suddenly. "What is this?" + +A public hack came swinging into view, its horses at a gallop. It drew +up before the main gate of the prison, a man leaped forth and began +pounding for admittance. Some one spoke to him through a grating. + +"What does he say?" queried the peasant girl. + +"I cannot hear. Perhaps he comes to say there is no--Mother of God! +Listen!" + +From somewhere toward the heart of the city came a faint murmur. + +"It is the rumble of a wagon on the next street," gasped Oliveta. + +The sound died away. The girls stood frozen at attention with their +senses strained. Then it rose again, louder. Soon there was no +mistaking it. A whisper came upon the breeze, it mounted into a +long-drawn humming, which in turn grew to a steady drone of voices +broken by waves of cheering. It gathered volume rapidly, and straggling +figures came running into view, followed by knots and groups of +fleet-footed youths. The driver of the carriage rose on his box, looked +over his shoulder, then whipped his horses into a gallop and fled. As he +did so a slowly moving wagon laden with timbers turned in from a side +street. It was driven by a somnolent negro, who finally halted his +team and stared in dull lack of comprehension at what he saw +approaching. + +By now the street beneath the girls was half filled with people; it +echoed to a babble of voices, to the shuffle and tread of a coming +multitude, and an instant later out of every thoroughfare which +fronted upon the grim old prison structure streamed the people of New +Orleans. + +"See! They are unarmed!" Oliveta's fingers sank into her sister's +wrist. + +Then through the press came a body of silent men, four abreast and +shoulder to shoulder. The crowd opened to let them through, cheering +frenziedly. They wore an air of sober responsibility; they carried +guns, and looked to neither right nor left. Directly beneath the +waiting women they passed, and at their head marched Norvin Blake and +Bernie Dreux together with two men unknown to the girls. + +Vittoria leaned forward horror-stricken, and although she tried to +call she did not hear her voice above the confusion; Oliveta clutched +her, murmuring distractedly. + +The avenues were jammed from curb to curb; telegraph-poles, +lamp-posts, trees held a burden of human forms; windows and +house-tops were filling in every direction; a continuous roar beat +thunderously against the prison walls. + +The army of vigilantes drew up before the main gate, and a man smote +it with the butt of his shotgun, demanding entrance. The crowd, +anticipating a volley from within, surged back, leaving them isolated. +A dozen bluecoats struggled to clear the sidewalks next the structure, +but they might as well have tried to stem a rising tide with their +naked hands; they were buffeted briefly, then swallowed up. + +In answer to a command, the armed men scattered, surrounding the +building with a cordon of steel; then the main body renewed its +assault. But the oaken barrier, stoutly reinforced, withstood them +gallantly, and a brief colloquy occurred, after which they made their +way to a small side door which directly faced the two women across the +street. This was not so heavily constructed as the front gate and +promised an easier entrance; but it was likewise locked and barred. +Then some one spied the wagon and its load of timbers, now hopelessly +wedged into the press, and a rush was made toward it. A beam was +raised upon willing shoulders, and with this as a battering-ram a +breach was begun. + +Every crash was the signal for a shout from the multitude, and when +the door finally gave way a triumphant roar arose. The armed men +swarmed into the opening and disappeared one by one, all but two who +stood with backs to the door and faced the crowd warningly. It was +evident that some sort of order prevailed among them, and that this +was more than an unorganized assault. + +Through the close-packed ranks, on and on around the massive pile, ran +the word that the vigilantes were within; it was telegraphed from +house-top to house-top. Then a silence descended, the more sinister +and ominous because of the pandemonium which had preceded it. + +Thus far Vittoria and her companion had seen and heard all that +occurred, for their position commanded a view of both fronts of the +building; but now they had only their ears to guide them. + +"Come, let us leave now! We have seen enough." Vittoria cried, and +strove to drag Oliveta from her post. But the girl would not yield, +she did not seem to hear, her eyes were fixed with strained and +fascinated horror upon that shattered aperture which showed like a +gaping wound. Her bloodless lips were whispering; her fingers, where +they gripped the iron railing, were like claws. + +"Quickly! Quickly!" moaned Vittoria. "We did not come to see this +monstrous thing. Oliveta, spare yourself!" In the silence her voice +sounded so loudly and shrilly that people on the adjoining balcony +turned curious, uncomprehending faces toward her. + +Moment after moment that hush continued, then from within came a +renewed hammering, hollow, measured; above it sounded the faint cries +of terrified prisoners. This died away after a time, and some one +said: + +"They're into the corridors at last. It won't be long now." + +A moment later a dull, unmistakable reverberation rolled forth like +the smothered sound of a subterranean explosion; it was followed by +another and another--gunshots fired within brick walls and flag-paved +courtyards. + +It shattered that sickening, unending suspense which caused the pulse +to flutter and the breath to lag; the crowd gave tongue in a howl of +hoarse delight. Then followed a peculiar shrilling chorus--that +familiar signal known as the "dago whistle"--which was like the +piercing cry of lost souls. "Who killa da Chief?" screamed the +hoodlums, then puckered their lips and piped again that mocking +signal. As the booming of the guns continued, now singly, now in +volley, the maddened populace squeezed toward that narrow entrance +through which the avengers had disappeared; but they were halted by +the guards and forced to content themselves by greeting every shot +with an exultant cry. The streets in all directions were tossing and +billowing like the waves of the sea; men capered and flung their arms +aloft, shrieking; women and children waved their aprons and kerchiefs, +sobbing and spent with excitement. It was a wild and grotesque scene, +unspeakably terrible, inhumanly ferocious. + +Through it the two Sicilian girls clung to each other, fainting, +revolted, fascinated. When they could summon strength they descended +to the street and fought their way out of the bedlam. + +Norvin Blake was not a willing participant in the lynching, although +he had gone to the meeting at Clay Statue determined to do what he +considered his duty. He had felt no doubt as to the outcome of the +mass-meeting even before he saw its giant proportions, and even before +it had sounded its approval of the first speaker's words, for he knew +how deeply his townspeople were stirred by the astounding miscarriage +of justice. At the rally of the Committee on the afternoon previous it +had been urged to proceed with the execution at once, and the counsel +of the more conservative had barely prevailed. Blake knew perhaps +better than his companions to what lengths the rage of a mob will go, +and he confessed to a secret fear of the result. Therefore, although +he marched in the vanguard of the storming party, it was more to +exercise a restraining influence and to prevent violence against +unoffending foreigners, than to take part in the demonstration. As for +the actual shedding of blood, his instinct revolted from it, while his +reason recognized its necessity and defended it. + +Bernie Dreux's amazing assumption of dictatorship had relieved him of +the duty of heading the mob, a thing for which he was profoundly +grateful. When the main body of vigilantes had armed itself, he fell +in beside his friend with some notion of helping and protecting him. +But the little man proved amply equal to the occasion. He was +unwaveringly grim and determined It was he who faced the oaken gate +and demanded entrance in the name of the people; it was he who +suggested the use of the battering-ram; and it was he who first fought +his way through the breach, at the risk of bullets from within. Blake +followed to find him with his fowling-piece at the head of the prison +captain, and demanding the keys to the cells. + +The posse had gained a partial entrance, but another iron-ribbed door +withheld them from the body of the prison, and there followed a delay +while this was broken down. Meanwhile, from within came the sound of +turning locks and of clanging steel doors, also a shuffling of many +feet and cries of mortal terror, which told that the prisoners had +been freed to shift for themselves in this extremity. + +In truth, a scene was being enacted within more terrible than that +outside, for as the deputies released the prisoners, commanding them +to save themselves if they could, a frightful confusion ensued. Not +only did the eleven Sicilians cry to God, but the other inmates of the +place who feared their crimes had overtaken them joined in the appeal. +Men and women, negroes and whites, felons and minor evil-doers, rushed +to and fro along the galleries and passageways, fighting with one +another, tearing one another from places of refuge, seeking new and +securer points of safety. They huddled in dark corners; they crept +under beds, beneath stairways, and into barrels. They burrowed into +rubbish piles only to be dragged out by the hair or the heels and to +see their jealous companions seize upon these sanctuaries. + +Terror is swiftly contagious; the whole place became a seething pit of +dismay. Some knelt and prayed, while others trampled upon them; they +rose from their knees to beat with bleeding fists upon barred doors +and blind partitions; but as their fear of death increased and the +chorus of their despair mounted higher there came another pounding, +nearer, louder--the sound of splitting wood and of rending metal. To +escape was impossible; to remain was madness; of hiding-places there +was a fearful scarcity. + +The regulators came rushing into the prison proper, with footsteps +echoing loudly through the barren corridors. Out into the open court +they swarmed, then up the iron stairways to the galleries that ringed +it about, peering into cells as they went, ousting the wretched +inmates from remotest corners. But the chamber in which they knew +their quarry had been housed was empty, so they paused undecided, +while from all sides came the smothered sounds of terror like the +mewling and squeaking of mice hidden in a wall. + +Suddenly some one shouted, "There they are!" and pointed to the +topmost gallery, which ran in front of the condemned cells. A rush +began, but at the top of the winding stairs another grating barred the +way. Through this, however, could be seen Salvatore di Marco, Giordano +Bolla, and the elder Cressi. The three Sicilians had fled to this last +stronghold, slammed the steel door behind them, and now crouched in +the shelter of a brick column. Some one hammered at the lock, and the +terrified prisoners started to their feet with an agonized appeal for +mercy. As they exposed themselves to view a man fired through the +bars. His aim was true; Di Marco flung his arms aloft and pitched +forward on his face. Crazed by this, his two companions rushed madly +back and forth; but they were securely penned in, and appeal was +futile. Another shot boomed deafeningly in the close confines of the +place, and Cressi plunged to his death; then Bolla followed, his +bloody hands gripping the bars, his face upturned in a hideous +grimace, and his eyes, which stared through at his slayers, glazing +slowly. + +Down the ringing stairs marched the grim-featured men who had set +themselves this task, and among them Bernie Dreux strode, issuing +orders. The weapon in his hand was hot, his shoulder was bruised, for +he had long been unaccustomed to the use of firearms. + +Then began a systematic search of the men's department of the prison; +but no new victims were discovered, only the ordinary prisoners who +were well-nigh speechless with fright. + +"Where are the others?" went up the cry, and some one answered: + +"On the women's side." + +The band passed through to the adjoining portion of the double +building, and, keys having been secured, the rapidity of their search +increased. Into the twin courtyard they filed; then while some +investigated the cookhouse others climbed to the topmost tier of +cells. As the quest narrowed, six of the Sicilians, who had lain +concealed in a compartment on the first floor, broke out in a +desperate endeavor to escape, but they were caught between the +opposing ranks, as in the jaws of a trap. The cell door clanged to +behind them; they found themselves at bay in the open yard. Resistance +was useless; they sank to their knees and set up a cry for mercy. They +shrieked, they sobbed, they groveled; but their enemies were open to +no appeal, untouched by any sense of compunction. They were men wholly +dominated by a single fixed idea, as merciless as machines. + +There followed a nightmare scene; a horrid, bellowing uproar of voices +and detonations, of groans and prayers and curses. The armed men +emptied their weapons blindly into that writhing tangle of forms, and +as one finished he stepped back while another took his place. The +prison rocked with the din of it; the wretches were shot to pieces, +riddled, by that horizontal hail which mowed and mangled like an +invisible scythe. Now a figure struggled to its feet only to become +the target for a fusillade; again one twisted in his agony only to be +filled with missiles fired from so short a range that his garments +were torn to rags. The pavement became wet and slippery; in one brief +moment that section of the yard became a shambles. + +Then men went up and poked among the bodies with the hot muzzles of +their rifles, turning the corpses over for identification; and as each +stark face was recognized a name went echoing out through the dingy +corridors to the mob beyond. + +Larubio, the cobbler, had attempted a daring ruse. The firing had +ceased when up out of that limp and sodden heap he rose, his gray hair +matted, his garments streaming. They thrust their rifles against his +chest and killed him quickly. + +Nine men had died by now, and only two remained, Normando and Maruffi. +The former was found shortly, where he had squeezed himself into a +dog-kennel which stood under the stairs; but the vigilantes, it +seemed, had had enough of slaughter, so he was rushed into the street, +where the crowd tore him to pieces as wolves rend a rabbit. Even his +garments were ripped to rags and distributed as ghastly souvenirs. + +Norvin Blake had been a witness to only a part of this brutality, but +what he had seen had sickened him, and had increased his determination +to find Gino Cressi. He shared not at all in the sanguinary exaltation +which possessed his fellow-townsmen; instead he longed for the end and +hoped he would be able to forget what he had seen. He would have fled +but for his fear of what might happen to the Cressi boy. Corridor +after corridor he searched, peering into cells, under cots, into +corners and crannies, while through the cavernous old building the +other hunters stormed. He was hard pressed to keep ahead of them, and +when he finally found the lad they were dose at his heels. + +They came upon him with the lad clinging to his knees, and a shout +went up. + +"Here's the Cressi kid. He gave the signal; let him have it!" + +But Norvin turned upon them, saying: + +"You can't kill this boy." + +"Step aside, Blake," ordered a red-faced man, raising and cocking his +weapon. + +Norvin seized the rifle-barrel and turned it aside roughly. The two +stared at each other with angry eyes. + +"He's only a baby, don't you understand? Good God! You have children +of your own." + +"I--I--" The fellow hesitated. "So he is. Damnation! What has come +over me?" He lowered his gun and turned against the others who were +clamoring behind him. "This is--awful," he murmured, shakingly, when +the crowd had passed on. "I've done all I intend to." He flung his +rifle from him with a gesture of repugnance, and went out of the cell. + +Norvin continued to stand guard over his charge while the search for +Maruffi went on, for he dared not trust these men who had gone mad. +Thus he did not learn that his arch enemy had been taken until he saw +him rushed past in the hands of his captors. Caesar had fought as best +he could against overwhelming odds, and continued to resist now in a +blind fury; but a rope was about his neck, at the end of which were a +dozen running men; a dozen gun-butts hustled him on his way to the +open air. Blake closed the cell door upon Gino Cressi and followed, +drawn by a magnetic force he could not resist. + +The main gate of the prison opened before the rush of that tangled, +growling handful of men, and they swept straight out into the turmoil +that filled the streets. An instant later Maruffi was beset by five +thousand maniacs; he was kicked, he was beaten, he was spat upon, he +was overwhelmed by an avalanche of humanity. His progress to the +gallows was a short but a terrible one, marked by a series of violent +whirlpools which set through that river of people. The uproar was +deafening; spectators screamed hoarsely, but did not hear their +voices. + +From where Blake paused beside the gate he traced the Sicilian's +progress plainly, marveling at the fellow's vitality, for it seemed +impossible that any human being could withstand that onslaught. A coil +of rope sailed upward, a negro perched in a tree passed it over a +limb, and the next instant the head and shoulders of the Capo-Mafia +rose above the dense level of standing forms. He was writhing +horribly, but, seizing the rope with his hands, he drew himself +upward; his blackened face glared down upon his executioners. The +grinning negro kicked at the dark head beneath him, once, twice, three +times, so violently that he lost his balance and fell, whereupon a +bellowing shout of laughter arose more terrible than any sound +heretofore. Still the Sicilian clung to the rope which was strangling +him. Then puffs of smoke curled up in the sunshine, and the crowd +rolled back upon itself, leaving the gibbet ringed with armed men. +Maruffi's body was swayed and spun as if by invisible hands; his +fingers slipped; he settled downward. + +Blake turned and hid his face against the cold, damp walls, for he was +very sick. + + + + +XXVI + +AT THE DUSK + + + +Within two days the city had regained its customary calm. It had, in +fact, settled down to a more placid mood than at any time since the +murder of Chief Donnelly. Immediately after the lynching the citizens +had dispersed to their homes. No prisoners except the Mafiosi had been +harmed, and of those who had been sought not one had escaped. The +damage to the parish prison did not amount to fifty dollars. Through +the community spread a feeling of satisfaction, which horror at the +terrible details of the slaughter could not destroy. There was nowhere +the slightest effort at dodging responsibility; those who had led in +the assault were the best-known citizens and openly acknowledged their +parts. It was realized now, even more fully than before the event, +that the course pursued had been the only one compatible with public +safety; and, while every one deplored the necessity of lynchings in +general, there was no regret at this one, shocking as it had been. + +This state of mind was reflected by the local press, and, for that +matter, by the press of all the Southern cities where the gravity of +the situation had become known, while to lend it further countenance, +the Cotton Exchange, the Board of Trade, and the Chamber of Commerce +promptly passed resolutions commending the action of the vigilance +committee. There was some talk of legal proceedings; but no one took +it seriously, except the police, who felt obliged to excuse their +dereliction. Of course, the stir was national--international, indeed, +since Italy demanded particulars; but, serene in the sense of an +unpleasant duty thoroughly performed, New Orleans did not trouble to +explain, except by a bare recital of facts. + +In spite of the passive part he had played, Blake was perhaps more +deeply affected by the doings at the prison than any other member of +the party, and during the interval that followed he did not trust +himself to see Vittoria. There was a double reason for this, for he +not only recalled their last interview with consternation, but he +still had a guilty feeling about Myra Nell. On the second afternoon +after the lynching Bernie Dreux dropped in to tell him of his sister's +return from Mobile. + +"She read that I took a hand in the fuss," Bernie explained, "but, of +course, she has no idea I did so much actual shooting. When she told +me she was going to see you this afternoon, I came to warn you not to +expose me." + +"Do you regret your part?" + +"Not the least bit. I'm merely surprised at myself." + +"You surprised all your friends," Blake said, with a smile. "You seem +to have changed lately." + +In truth, the difference in Dreux's bearing was noteworthy, and many +had remarked upon it. The dignity and force which had enveloped the +little beau for the first time when he stood before the assembled +thousands still clung to him; his eyes were steady and bright and +purposeful; he had lost his wavering, deprecatory manner. + +"Yes, I've just come of age," he declared, with some satisfaction. "I +realize that I'm free, white, and twenty-one, for the first time. I'm +going to quit idling and do something." + +"What, for instance?" + +"Well, I'm going to marry Felicite, to begin with, then maybe some of +my friends will give me a job." + +"I will," said Blake. + +"Thanks, but--I'd rather impose on somebody else at the start. I want +to make good on my own merits, understand? I've lived off my relatives +long enough. It's just as bad to let the deceased members of your +family support you as to allow the live ones--" + +"Bernie!" Blake interrupted, gravely. "I'm afraid I won't marry Myra +Nell." + +"You think she won't have you, eh? She has been acting queerly of +late; but leave it to me." + +Norvin was spared the necessity of further explanation by the arrival +of the girl herself. Miss Warren seemed strangely lacking in her usual +abundance of animal spirits; she was obviously ill at ease, and the +sight of her brother did not lessen her embarrassment. During the +brief interchange of pleasantries her eyes were fixed upon Blake with +a troubled gaze. + +"We--I just ran in for a moment," she said, and seemed upon the point +of leaving after inquiring solicitously about his health. + +"My dear," said Bernie, with elaborate unction, "Norvin and I have +just been discussing your engagement." + +Miss Warren gasped and turned pale; Blake stammered. + +With a desperate effort the girl inquired: + +"D--do you love me, Norvin?" + +"Of course I do." + +"See!" Bernie nodded his satisfaction. + +"Oh, Lordy!" said Myra Nell. "I--can't marry you, dear." + +"What?" Blake knew that his expression was changing, and tried to +stifle his relief. + +As for Bernie, he flushed angrily, and his voice rang with his newly +born determination. + +"Don't be silly. Didn't he just say he loved you? And, for heaven's +sake, don't look so scared. We won't devour you." + +"I can't marry him," declared the girl, once more. + +"Why?" + +"Be-because I'm already married! There! Jimmy! I've been trying to get +that out for a month." + +Dreux gasped. "Myra Nell! You're crazy!" + +She nodded, then turned to Blake with a look of entreaty, "P-please +don't kill yourself, dear? I couldn't help it." + +"Why, you poor frightened little thing! I'm delighted! I am indeed, +"he told her, reassuringly. + +"Don't you care? Aren't you going to storm and--and raise the +dickens?" she queried. "Maybe this is your way of hiding your +despair?" + +"Not at all. I'm glad--so long as you're happy." + +"And you're not mad with anguish nor crushed with--Why, the idea! I'm +perfectly _furious!_ I ran away because I was afraid of you, and +I haven't seen my husband once, not once, do you understand, since we +were married. Oh, you--_brute!_" + +By this time Dreux had recovered his power of speech, and yelled in +furious voice: + +"Who is the reptile?" + +There came a timid rap, the office door opened, and Lecompte Rilleau +inserted his head, saying gently: + +"Me! I! I'm it!" + +Blake rose so suddenly that his chair upset, whereupon Rilleau, who +saw in this abrupt movement a threat, propelled himself fully into +view, crying with determination: + +"Here! Don't you touch her! She's mine! You take it out of me!" + +Blake's answering laugh seemed so out of character that the bridegroom +took it as merely a new phase of insanity, and edged in front of his +wife protectingly. + +"I wanted to come in at first and break the news, but she wouldn't let +me," he explained. + +"You have a weak heart. You--you mustn't fight!" implored Myra Nell; +but Lecompte only shrugged. + +[Illustration: "P-PLEASE DON'T KILL YOURSELF, DEAR? I COULDN'T HELP +IT"] + +"That's all a bluff." Then to Norvin: "I'll admit it _was_ a mean +trick, and I guess my heart really might have petered out if she'd +married you; but I'm all right now, and you can have satisfaction." + +"I don't know whether to be angry or amused at you children," Norvin +told them. "Understand, once for all, that our engagement wasn't +serious. There have been a lot of mistakes and misunderstandings-- +that's all. Now tell us how and when this all happened." + +"Y-yes!" echoed Bernie, who was still dazed. + +Myra Nell seemed more chagrined than relieved. + +"It was perfectly simple," she informed them. "It happened during the +Carnival. I--never heard a man talk the way he did, and I was really +worried about his heart. I said no--for fifteen minutes, then we +arranged to be married secretly. When it was all over, I was +frightened and ran away. You're such a deep, desperate, unforgiving +person, Norvin. I--I think it was positively horrid of you." + +"Good Lord!" breathed her brother. "What a perverted sense of +responsibility!" + +"Are we forgiven?" + +"It's all right with me, if it is with Norvin," said Bernie, somewhat +doubtfully. + +"Forgiven?" Blake took the youthful pair by the hands, and in his eyes +was a brightness they had never seen. "Of course you are, and let me +tell you that you haven't cornered all the love in the world. I've +never cared but for one woman. Perhaps you will wish me as much +happiness as I wish you both?" + +"Then you have found your Italian girl?" queried Myra Nell, with +flashing eagerness. + +"Vittoria!" + +"Vittoria!" Miss Warren shrieked. "Vittoria--a _countess!_ So, +she's the one who spoiled everything?" + +"Gee! You'll be a count," said Rilleau. + +There followed a period of laughing, incoherent explanations, and then +the beaming bridegroom tugged at Myra Nell's sleeve, saying: + +"Now that it's all over, I'm mighty tired of being a widower." + +She flung her arms about his neck and lifted her blushing face to his, +explaining to her half-brother, when she could: + +"I don't know what you'll do without some one to look after you, +Bernie, but--it's perfectly grand to elope." + +Dreux rose with a grin and winked at Norvin as he said: + +"Oh, don't mind me. I'll get along all right." And seizing his hat he +rushed out with his thin face all ablaze. When Blake was finally +alone, he closed his desk and with bounding heart set out for the +foreign quarter. His day had dawned; he could hardly contain himself. +But, as he neared his goal, strange doubts and indecisions arose in +his mind; and when he had reached Oliveta's house he passed on, +lacking courage to enter. He decided it was too soon after the tragedy +at the parish prison to press his suit; that to intrude himself now +would be in offensively bad taste. Then, too, he began to reason that +if Margherita had wished to see him she would have sent for him--all +in all, the hour was decidedly unpropitious. He dared not risk his +future happiness upon a blundering, ill-timed declaration; therefore +he walked onward. But no sooner had he passed the house than a +thousand voices urged him to return, in this the hour of the girl's +loneliness, and lay his devotion at her feet. Torn thus by hesitation +and by the sense of his unworthiness, he walked the streets, hour +after hour. At one moment he approached the house desperately +determined; the next he fled, mastered by the fear of dismissal. So he +continued his miserable wanderings on into the dusk. + +Twilight was settling when Margherita Ginini finished her packing. The +big living-room was stripped of its furnishings; trunks and cases +stood about in a desolate confusion. There was no look of home or +comfort remaining anywhere, and the whole house echoed dismally to her +footsteps. From the rear came the sound of Oliveta's listless +preparations. + +Pausing at an open window, Margherita looked down upon the street +which she had grown to love--the suggestion of darkness had softened +it, mellowed it with a twilight beauty, like the face of an old friend +seen in the glow of lamplight. The shouting of urchins at play floated +upward, stirring the chords of motherhood in her breast and +emphasizing her loneliness. With Oliveta gone what would be left? +Nothing but an austere life compressed within drab walls; nothing but +sickness and suffering on every side. She had begun to think a great +deal about those walls of late and--The bells of a convent pealed out +softly in the distance, bringing a tightness to her throat. In spite +of herself she shuddered. Those laughing children's voices mocked at +her empty life. They seemed always to jeer at that hungry mother-love, +but never quite so loudly as now. She remembered surprising Norvin +Blake at play with these very children one day, and the half-abashed, +half-defiant light in his eyes when he discovered her watching him. +Thinking of him, she recalled just such another twilight hour as this +when, in a whirl of shamed emotion, she had been compelled to face the +fact of her love. A sudden trembling weakness seized her at the +memory, and she saw again those cold gray walls, which never echoed to +the gleeful crowing of babes or the thrilling merriment of little +voices. In that brief hour of her awakening life had opened +gloriously, bewilderingly, only to close again, leaving her soul +bruised and sore with rebellion. + +She crossed the floor listlessly in answer to a knock, for the +repeated attentions of her neighbors, although sincere and touching, +were intrusive; then she fell back at sight of the man who entered. + +The magic of this evening hour had brought him to her in spite of all +his fears; but his heart was in his throat, and he could hardly manage +a greeting. As he passed the threshold of the disordered room he +looked round him in dismay. + +"What is this?" he asked. + +"Oliveta is going home to Sicily. It is our parting." + +"And you?" + +"To-morrow--I go to the Sisters." + +"No, no!" he cried, in a voice which thrilled her. "I won't let you. +For hours I've been trying to come here--Dearest, don't answer until +you know everything. Sometimes I fear I was the one who was dreaming +at that moment when you confessed you loved me, for it is all so +unreal--But my love is not unreal. It has lived with me night and day +since that first moment at Terranova--I couldn't speak before, but all +these years seem only hours, and I've been living in the gardens of +Sicily where you first smiled at me and awoke this love. You asked me +to take no part--I had to refuse--I've tried to make a man of myself, +not for my own sake, not for what the world would say, but for you--" + +In the tumult of feeling that his words aroused she held fast to one +thought. + +"What--what about Myra Nell?" she gasped. + +"Myra Nell is married!" + +The curling lashes which had lain half closed during his headlong +speech flew open to display a look of wonderment and dawning gladness. + +"Yes," he reiterated. "She is married. She has been married ever since +the Carnival, and she's very happy. But I didn't know. I was tied by a +miserable misunderstanding, so I couldn't come to you honestly +until today. And now--I--I'm--afraid--" + +"What do you fear?" she heard herself say. The breathless delight of +this moment was so intense that she toyed with it, fearing to lose the +smallest part. She withheld the confession trembling upon her lips +which he was too timid to take for granted, too blind to see. + +"Can you take me, in spite of my wretched cowardice back there in +Sicily? I would understand, dear, if you couldn't forget it, but--I +love you so--I tried so hard to make myself worthy--you'll never know +how hard it was--I couldn't do what you asked me, the other day, but, +thank God, my hands are clean." + +He held them out as if in evidence; then, to his great, his never-ending +surprise, she came forward and placed her two palms in his. She +stood looking gravely at him, her surrender plain in the curve of her +tremulous lip, the droop of her faltering, silk-fringed lids. + +Knowledge came to him with a blinding, suffocating suddenness which +set his brain to reeling and wrung a rapturous cry from his throat. + +After a long time he felt her shudder in his arms. + +"What is it, heart of my life?" he whispered, without lifting his lips +from her tawny cloud of hair. + +"Those walls!" she said. "Those cold, gray walls!" + +A sob rose, caught, then changed to a laugh of deep contentment, and +she nestled closer. + +Children's voices were wafted up to them through the fragrant, +peaceful dusk, and the two fell silent again, until Oliveta came and +stood beside them with her face transfigured. + +"God be praised!" said the peasant girl, as she put her hands in +theirs. "Something told me I should not return to Sicily alone." + + + + +THE END + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE NET *** + +This file should be named thene10.txt or thene10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, thene11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, thene10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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