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"I came to see Count Ferralti, who is hurt, I understand," he continued. "It is true, signore, but not badly. The poor count is injured mostly in his mind. Presently you shall see him." "No hurry," observed Uncle John. "Pleasant place you have here, Duke." "It is very good of you to praise it, signore. It is my most ancient patrimony, and quite retired and exclusive." "So I see."
Ferralti bowed, with a serious face, but looked significantly toward the other members of the company. "Whatever you have to say should be heard by all," declared Uncle John, answering the look. "Perhaps you are right, Mr. Merrick, and all present are entitled to an explanation," answered the young man, slowly. "I may have been foolish, but I believe I have done nothing that I need be ashamed of.
Ferralti was looking vaguely from the weapon he held to the pit, and then back again, as if not fully understanding what he had done. "Thank you, signore," said the Duke, brokenly, "for saving my precious child." "But I have slain your mother!" cried the young man, horrified. "The obligation is even," replied the duke. "She was also your grandmother."
"Sir, I could not bear the infamy of letting this scoundrel triumph over me." "Well, Ferralti, you are attempting a delicate and dangerous task, but so far as I can, I will help you." He took the revolver from his pocket and handed it to his companion. "It's loaded in every chamber," he whispered. "Perhaps it will serve your purpose better than a knife." Ferralti's eyes sparkled.
Let me see," he turned to his list of guests, who register by card and not in a book, and continued: "Ah, yes; he has given his name as Ferralti, but added no title. A count, did you say?" "Yes," replied Uncle John. The proprietor looked curiously toward the young man, whose back only was visible. Then he remarked that the eruption of Vesuvius was waning and the trouble nearly over for this time.
It seemed to Uncle John that he might have had a hundred chances to shoot the brigand, who merited no better fate than assassination at their hands; but although Ferralti was resolved upon the deed he constantly hesitated to accomplish it in cold blood, and the fact that he had three days grace induced him to put off the matter as long as possible.
If at the end of the three days the Americans remained obdurate, he would invite them to take a little walk, and the affair would be terminated. Ferralti hugged his revolver and awaited his opportunity.
"I see you have Count Ferralti with you," remarked Uncle John. "Whom, sir?" "Ferralti Count Ferralti. The young man standing by the window, yonder." "I I did not know," he said, hesitatingly. "The gentleman arrived last evening, and I had not yet learned his name.
The search will find nothing, except perhaps a dead body thrown upon the rocks to defy justice. It is very regrettable, signorina; but it is so." Patsy was wringing her hands, frantic with terror. Louise was white and staring. Beth puckered her pretty brow in a frown and tried to think. "Ferralti is also gone," murmured Louise, in a hoarse voice. "They will rob or murder him with Uncle John!"
And Ferralti was no especial friend, to claim his assistance. But then the thought occurred that this young Italian had befriended both him and his nieces in an extremity, and was therefore entitled to consideration when trouble in turn overtook himself. The natural impulse of this thought was to go to his assistance. "All right, my lad," said he.
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