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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.
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.
"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."
It is said that he stood in front of his former palace with a wooden dish for alms. "Date obolum Belisario," give a penny to Belisarius, has become a proverb. However, Justinian seems to have repented, and he restored to Belisarius his wealth and his palace, in which, shortly after, the old man died on the 13th of March, 565, only eight months before his ungrateful sovereign. By HENRY G. HEWLETT
"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.
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.
"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.
"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.
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.
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.