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"It is lucky you found Ferralti, or he might have died in these wilds without a soul knowing he was here." "That is true, signore." "Well, is this the path?" "Yes, signore. Follow me, please." The cliffs were precipitous on both sides of them. It was another crevasse, but not a long one. Presently the child came to a halt because the way ended and they could proceed no farther.
Perhaps because he now realized he had unjustly suspected him. "You seem to have been hurt, Count," he remarked. "Why, I was foolish enough to struggle, and that brute Tommaso pounded me," was the reply. "You were wise to offer no resistance, sir." "As for that, I hadn't a choice," said Uncle John, smiling. "When did they get you, Ferralti?" "Last evening.
Uncle John followed him, nearly as fearful as the child's father. Tommaso seized a short rifle that stood near and ran around the house in the other direction, when Ferralti, who for a moment had seemed dazed by the interruption, followed Tommaso rather than the others.
I stole the key to Uncle John's trunk on the train, while we were going from Taormina to Syracuse; but I did not take the money from it because I had no better place to keep it, and the only danger was that he would force the lock some day. But Ferralti's money I call him Ferralti because it is a prettier name than Weldon bothered me for a long time.
The mountains ranged all around the valley were impossible to scale, even by an Alpine climber, and to one who was not informed of its location the existence of the valley itself was unimaginable. "I had not believed Ferralti was so shrewd," he muttered, wonderingly. "That something was wrong about the fellow I knew, of course; but I had not suspected such a thing as this.
"Tell me, Count Ferralti," he said, "who you really are. I had believed you were Il Duca's accomplice, until now. But if he has trapped you, and demands a ransom, it is because you are a person of some consequence, and able to pay. May I not know as much about your position in life as does this brigand duke?" The young man hesitated.
"I am sent by a friend," answered the boy, speaking rapidly and regarding the man with appealing glances. "He is in much trouble, signore, and asks your aid." "A friend? Who is it?" "The name he gave me is Ferralti, signore. He is near to this place, in the hills yonder, and unable to return to the town without assistance." "Ferralti. H-m-m. Is he hurt?"
The dancers entered at that moment and the Americans were forced to seat themselves hastily so as not to obstruct the view of others. Count Ferralti found a place beside Louise, but seemed to have little to say to her during the course of the entertainment.
Her eyes were full of tears, though, and her resolution at ebb tide. Fortunately the men had made haste. They returned with surprising promptness, pushing the amazed prisoners before them. Uncle John, as he emerged from the tunnel, looked around upon the tragic scene and gasped: "Well, I declare!" Count Ferralti was more composed, if equally surprised.
One of the young man's hands hung limp and helpless. "Are you hurt, sir?" he asked. Ferralti smiled, and his eyes rested upon Louise. "A little, perhaps, Mr. Merrick; but it is unimportant. The horses were frantic at the time and wrenched my wrist viciously as I tried to hold them. I felt something snap; a small bone, perhaps. But I am sure it is nothing of moment."
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