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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Net, by Rex Beach
+(#9 in our series by Rex Beach)
+
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+**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
+
+
+
+
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