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Updated: June 10, 2025
Ferralti took no part in the conversation, but remained sullen and silent, and the Duke did not press him. The day after, however, he insisted that he had dallied long enough, although after much argument on the part of his enforced guests he agreed to give them three days to decide, with the understanding that each day they delayed would add a goodly sum to their ransom.
He was sitting upon his horse and staring with amazement at Beth, at whose feet the driver was grovelling while tears flowed down his bronzed cheeks and he protested in an absurd mixture of English and Italian, by every saint in the calendar, that the girl had saved him from a frightful death and he would devote his future life to her service. "It is wonderful!" murmured Ferralti.
But either the brigand wavered between his loyalty to the Duke or the Duchessa, or he feared to injure Tato, for he hesitated to obey and the moments were precious. The child's fate hung in the balance when Ferralti snatched the weapon from the brigand's hands and fired it so hastily that he scarcely seemed to take aim. A wild cry echoed the shot.
Merrick effectually aroused him. "I've only one fault to find with this young man," was the observation referred to: "that he made our acquaintance under false pretenses. When a fairly decent fellow becomes an impostor there is usually reason for it, and I would like Count Ferralti or whatever his name is to give us that reason and make a clean breast of his deception."
"Lead on, and I'll see what can be done for Ferralti. Is it far?" "Not far, signore." With nervous, impatient steps the child started up the narrow path and Uncle John followed not slowly, but scarcely fast enough to satisfy his zealous guide. "What is your name, little one?" "Tato, signore." "Where do you live?" "Near by, signore." "And how did you happen to find Ferralti?" "By chance, signore."
"One thing is singular," observed Beth, calmly. "There has been no train since last you saw him. If Count Ferralti has left the hotel, where could he be?" The portiere brightened. "Gia s'intende!" he exclaimed, "he must still be in Taormina doubtless at some other hotel." "Will you send and find out?" asked Louise. "I will go myself, and at once," he answered.
"Your father," was the deliberate reply, "was killed in a railway accident, four days ago. I have just been notified of the fact by a cable from America." Ferralti sat trembling and regarding the man with silent horror. "Is this true, sir?" asked Uncle John, quickly; "or is it only a part of your cursed game?"
"What place is this, Tato?" he asked; "and where is our friend Ferralti, who needs me?" There was no reply. He turned around to find the boy had disappeared. Moreover, the passage had disappeared. Only a wall of rock was behind him, and although his eyes anxiously searched the rifts and cracks of its rough surface, no indication of the opening through which he had passed could be discovered.
Presently Louise turned with cheeks somewhat flushed and brought the gentleman to her party, introducing him to Uncle John and her cousins as Count Ferralti, whom she had once met in New York while he was on a visit to America. The Count twirled his small and slender moustaches in a way that Patsy thought affected, and said in excellent English: "It delights me to meet Mr.
In America they fight like beasts to get a job; here they seem anxious to avoid earning an honest penny. If there could be a happy medium somewhere, I'd like it." "Are we going to the best hotel?" asked Louise, who had seemed a trifle disconsolate because she had not seen Count Ferralti since leaving Naples. "I don't know, my dear. It wasn't a question of choice, but of necessity.
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