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Then, to his astonishment, he beheld the form of a man stretched lazily in a wicker chair beside the entrance, and while he paused, hesitating, the man sat up and bowed politely to him. "Good morning, Signor Merreek." It was Victor Valdi, or, ignoring the fictitious name, the mysterious personage known as "Il Duca."
"You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No."
"Luncheon is served, signore," he remarked. "Also, here is a letter for you, which arrived this morning." Uncle John took the letter and walked on to rejoin the girls. "It seems hard work to find out anything about this Valdi," he said. "Either the folks here do not know him, or they won't acknowledge his acquaintance. We may as well follow suit, and avoid him."
"Here the grandeur of the world centers, and life keeps time with Nature. You will like it? You will stay?" "Oh, for a time, anyway," said Patsy. "We expect to meet some friends here," explained Uncle John. "They are coming down from Palermo, but must have been delayed somewhere on the way." "Who are they?" asked Valdi, brusquely. "Americans, of course; Silas Watson and Kenneth Forbes.
Merrick went down the hill path leading from the Castello-a-Mare to Capo di San Andrea, and as he passed around a narrow ledge of rock came full upon two men seated upon a flat stone. One was Valdi and the other Ferralti, and they seemed engaged in earnest conversation when he interrupted them. The Count smiled frankly and doffed his hat; the Duke frowned grimly, but also nodded.
His appearance was entirely in keeping with the place, and the American noticed that the villagers who passed doffed their hats most respectfully to this seemingly well-known individual. But mingled with their polite deference was a shyness half fearful, and none stopped to speak but hurried silently on. "And how do we happen to find you here, Signor Valdi?" Patsy was saying.
A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead.
"Tato, my dear coz, is a boy," answered Kenneth; "and he disappeared ages ago." "You must be blind," said Beth, scornfully, "not to recognize a girl when you see one. A boy, indeed!" "Why, he dressed like a boy," replied Kenneth, hesitatingly. "So much the more disgraceful," sniffed Beth. "She belongs to those brigands, I suppose." "Looks something like Victor Valdi," said Patsy, thoughtfully.
"I don't like his looks a bit," observed Beth. "He seems afraid and defiant at the same time, and his temper is dreadful. It was only with great difficulty he could bring himself to be polite to us." "Oh, I always got along with him all right," said Patsy. "I'm sure Signor Valdi isn't as bad as he appears. And he's a duke, too, girls a real duke!"
"I quite agree with you," said the girl. "I wouldn't have missed it for anything if it really had to behave so." "But you'll pay for it!" growled Signor Valdi, who had overheard these remarks. "You will pay for it with a thousand discomforts and I'm glad that is so. Vesuvio is hell let loose; and it amuses you. Hundreds are lying dead and crushed; and you are lucky to be here.
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