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Updated: May 31, 2025
Never mind Il Duca, or the tales they foolishly whisper of him. Here you may be as safe and happy as in Chicago which is America." He turned to his horses and urged them up a slope. The girls and Uncle John eyed one another enquiringly. "Our duke seems to bear no good reputation," said Beth, in a tone so low that Frascatti could not overhear. "Everyone fears to speak of him."
"Has it a roof?" asked Uncle John, critically. "Of a certainty, signore! But it does not show from below," was the grave reply. At times Frascatti stopped his horses to allow them to rest, and then he would turn in his seat to address his passengers in the open victoria and descant upon the beauties of the panorama each turn unfolded.
And the lawless ones do not take his all merely a part." The girls looked at one another helplessly. "What must we do, Frascatti?" asked Patsy. "Wait. In a day two days, perhaps you will hear from your uncle. He will tell you how to send money to the lawless ones. You will follow his instructions, and he will come home with smiles and singing. I know. It is very regrettable, but it is so."
The road was zigzag, making a long ascent across the face of the cape, then turning abruptly to wind back again, but always creeping upward until an open space showed the station far below and a rambling stone building at the edge of the cliff far above. "Behold!" cried Frascatti, pointing up, "the Grand Hotel Castello-a-Mare; is it not the excellenza location?"
Watson sent the cables to John Merrick's bankers and Count Ferralti's attorney, and the next morning went with Louise to Messina. Frascatti drove all the party down the road to the station at Giardini, and as the train pulled out, Beth, who had remained seated in the victoria with Patricia and Kenneth, suddenly stood up to pull the vetturino's sleeve.
A thousand times, no. Il Duca was queer and unsociable, but not lawless. He was of noble family and a native of the district. It would be very wrong and foolish to question Il Duca's integrity. With this assertion Frascatti went to bed.
Frascatti came limping back with his tired followers in the early dawn, and reported that no trace of the missing man had been observed. There were no brigands and no Mafia; on that point all his fellow townsmen agreed with him fully. But it was barely possible some lawless ones who were all unknown to the honest Taorminians had made the rich American a prisoner. Il Duca? Oh, no, signorini!
They left Taormina the next day, and Frascatti drove all the girls in his victoria to the station. "You must come again, signorini," said he, looking regretful at their departure. "Next year the fountain of the ice cream soda will be in operation, like those you have in Chicago, which is America. Our culture increases with our civilization.
He was very evidently impressed. "Tell me, then, signorini," he said, thoughtfully; "is Senor Merreek very rich?" "Why do you ask?" returned Beth, suspiciously. She remembered the warning conveyed in Mr. Watson's letter. "Of course, I know that all the Americans who travel are rich," continued Frascatti. "I have myself been in Chicago, which is America.
Come, girls; hop in, if you want to ride." The three nieces and Uncle John just filled the victoria. The count was disconsolate at being so cleverly dropped from the party, but could only flourish his hat and wish them a pleasant drive. They descended the winding road to the coast, where Frascatti took the highway to Sant' Alessio, a charming drive leading to the Taormina Pass.
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