AUNT JANE'S NIECES ABROAD

by

EDITH VAN DYNE

Author of"Aunt Jane's Nieces, " "Aunt Jane's Nieces at Millville, ""Aunt Jane's Nieces in Society, " etc. 

PublishersThe Reilly & Britton Co. Chicago

1906

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The Aunt Jane's Nieces Series

BOOKS FOR GIRLS

By EDITH VAN DYNE

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SEVEN TITLES

 _Aunt Jane's Nieces_ _Aunt Jane's Nieces Abroad_ _Aunt Jane's Nieces at Millville_ _Aunt Jane's Nieces at Work_ _Aunt Jane's Nieces in Society_ _Aunt Jane's Nieces and Uncle John_ _Aunt Jane's Nieces on Vacation_

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 Distinctly girls' books and yet stories that will appeal to _brother_ as well--and to older folk. Real and vital--rousing stories of the experiences and exploits of three real girls who do things. Without being sensational, Mrs. Van Dyne has succeeded in writing a series of stories that have the tug and stir of fresh young blood in them. Each story is complete in itself. 

 Illustrated 12mo. Uniform cloth binding, stamped in colors, with beautiful colored inlay. Fancy colored jackets. Price 60 cents each

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LIST OF CHAPTERS

CHAPTER PAGE

 I. THE DOYLES ARE ASTONISHED 1

 II. UNCLE JOHN MAKES PLANS 12

 III. "ALL ASHORE!" 24

 IV. SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES AND A WARNING 36

 V. VESUVIUS RAMPANT 54

 VI. UNDER A CLOUD 57

 VII. A FRIEND IN NEED 69

 VIII. ACROSS THE BAY 76

 IX. COUNT FERRALTI 85

 X. THE ROAD TO AMALFI 94

 XI. THE EAGLE SCREAMS 110

 XII. MOVING ON 120

 XIII. "IL DUCA" 137

 XIV. UNCLE JOHN DISAPPEARS 153

 XV. DAYS OF ANXIETY 169

 XVI. TATO 180

 XVII. THE HIDDEN VALLEY 189

 XVIII. THE GUESTS OF THE BRIGAND 202

 XIX. A DIFFICULT POSITION 217

 XX. UNCLE JOHN PLAYS EAVESDROPPER 228

 XXI. THE PIT 241

 XXII. NEWS AT LAST 250

 XXIII. BETH BEGINS TO PLOT 263

 XXIV. PATSY'S NEW FRIEND 272

 XXV. TURNING THE TABLES 283

 XXVI. THE COUNT UNMASKS 292

 XXVII. TATO IS ADOPTED 304

XXVIII. DREAMS AND DRESS-MAKING 312

 XXIX. TATO WINS 326

 XXX. A WAY TO FORGET 337

 XXXI. SAFE HOME 345

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PREFATORY:

The author is pleased to be able to present a sequel to "Aunt Jane'sNieces, " the book which was received with so much favor last year. Yetit is not necessary one should have read the first book to fullyunderstand the present volume, the characters being taken to entirelynew scenes. 

The various foreign localities are accurately described, so that thosewho have visited them will recognize them at once, while those who havenot been so fortunate may acquire a clear conception of them. It was mygood fortune to be an eye witness of the recent great eruption ofVesuvius. 

Lest I be accused of undue sensationalism in relating the somewhatdramatic Sicilian incident, I will assure my reader that the story doesnot exaggerate present conditions in various parts of the island. Infact, Il Duca and Tato are drawn from life, although they did not havetheir mountain lair so near to Taormina as I have ventured to locateit. Except that I have adapted their clever system of brigandage to theexigencies of this story, their history is truly related. Many who havetravelled somewhat outside the beaten tracks in Sicily will franklyvouch for this statement. 

Italy is doing its best to suppress the Mafia and to eliminatebrigandage from the beautiful islands it controls, but so few of theinhabitants are Italians or in sympathy with the government that thework of reformation is necessarily slow. Americans, especially, mustexercise caution in travelling in any part of Sicily; yet with propercare not to tempt the irresponsible natives, they are as safe in Sicilyas they are at home. 

Aunt Jane's nieces are shown to be as frankly adventurous as the averageclear headed American girl, but their experiences amid the environmentsof an ancient and still primitive civilization are in no wiseextraordinary. 

 EDITH VAN DYNE. 

CHAPTER I

THE DOYLES ARE ASTONISHED

It was Sunday afternoon in Miss Patricia Doyle's pretty flat at 3708Willing Square. In the small drawing room Patricia--or Patsy, as shepreferred to be called--was seated at the piano softly playing the one"piece" the music teacher had succeeded in drilling into her flightyhead by virtue of much patience and perseverance. In a thick cushionedmorris-chair reclined the motionless form of Uncle John, a chubby littleman in a gray suit, whose features were temporarily eclipsed by thenewspaper that was spread carefully over them. Occasionally a gasp or asnore from beneath the paper suggested that the little man was"snoozing" as he sometimes gravely called it, instead of listening tothe music. 

Major Doyle sat opposite, stiffly erect, with his admiring eyes fullupon Patsy. At times he drummed upon the arms of his chair in unisonwith the music, nodding his grizzled head to mark the time as well as toemphasize his evident approbation. Patsy had played this same piece fromstart to finish seven times since dinner, because it was the only oneshe knew; but the Major could have listened to it seven hundred timeswithout the flicker of an eyelash. It was not that he admired so muchthe "piece" the girl was playing as the girl who was playing the"piece. " His pride in Patsy was unbounded. That she should havesucceeded at all in mastering that imposing looking instrument--makingit actually "play chunes"--was surely a thing to wonder at. But then, Patsy could do anything, if she but tried. 

Suddenly Uncle John gave a dreadful snort and sat bolt upright, gazingat his companions with a startled look that melted into one of benigncomplacency as he observed his surroundings and realized where he was. The interruption gave Patsy an opportunity to stop playing the tune. Sheswung around on the stool and looked with amusement at her newlyawakened uncle. 

"You've been asleep, " she said. 

"No, indeed; quite a mistake, " replied the little man, seriously. "I'veonly been thinking. "

"An' such _beaut_chiful thoughts, " observed the Major, testily, for heresented the interruption of his Sunday afternoon treat. "You thought'em aloud, sir, and the sound of it was a bad imithation of a bullfrogin a marsh. You'll have to give up eating the salad, sir. "

"Bah! don't I know?" asked Uncle John, indignantly. 

"Well, if your knowledge is better than our hearing, I suppose you do, "retorted the Major. "But to an ignorant individual like meself theimpression conveyed was that you snored like a man that has forgottenhis manners an' gone to sleep in the prisence of a lady. "

"Then no one has a better right to do that, " declared Patsy, soothingly;"and I'm sure our dear Uncle John's thoughts were just the mostbeautiful dreams in the world. Tell us of them, sir, and we'll prove theMajor utterly wrong. "

Even her father smiled at the girl's diplomacy, and Uncle John, who wason the verge of unreasonable anger, beamed upon her gratefully. 

"I'm going to Europe, " he said. 

The Major gave an involuntary start, and then turned to look at himcuriously. 

"And I'm going to take Patsy along, " he continued, with a mischievousgrin. 

The Major frowned. 

"Conthrol yourself, sir, until you are fully awake, " said he. "You'redreaming again. "

Patsy swung her feet from side to side, for she was such a little thingthat the stool raised her entirely off the floor. There was a thoughtfullook on her round, freckled face, and a wistful one in her great blueeyes as the full meaning of Uncle John's abrupt avowal became apparent. 

The Major was still frowning, but a half frightened expression hadreplaced the one of scornful raillery. For he, too, knew that hiseccentric brother-in-law was likely to propose any preposterous thing, and then carry it out in spite of all opposition. But to take Patsy toEurope would be like pulling the Major's eye teeth or amputating hisgood right arm. Worse; far worse! It would mean taking the sunshine outof her old father's sky altogether, and painting it a grim, despairinggray. 

But he resolved not to submit without a struggle. 

"Sir, " said he, sternly--he always called his brother-in-law "sir" whenhe was in a sarcastic or reproachful mood--"I've had an idea for sometime that you were plotting mischief. You haven't looked me straight inthe eye for a week, and you've twice been late to dinner. I will ask youto explain to us, sir, the brutal suggestion you have just advanced. "

Uncle John laughed. In the days when Major Doyle had thought him a poorman and in need of a helping hand, the grizzled old Irishman had been astender toward him as a woman and studiously avoided any speech orepithet that by chance might injure the feelings of his dead wife'sonly brother. But the Major's invariable courtesy to the poor orunfortunate was no longer in evidence when he found that John Merrickwas a multi-millionaire with a strongly defined habit of doing good toothers and striving in obscure and unconventional ways to make everybodyaround him happy. His affection for the little man increased mightily, but his respectful attitude promptly changed, and a chance to reprove ordiscomfit his absurdly rich brother-in-law was one of his mostsatisfactory diversions. Uncle John appreciated this, and holding thedignified Major in loving regard was glad to cross swords with him nowand then to add variety to their pleasant relations. 

"It's this way, Major Doyle, " he now remarked, coolly. "I've beenworried to death, lately, over business matters; and I need a change. "

"Phoo! All your business is attended to by Isham, Marvin & Co. You've noworry at all. Why, we've just made you a quarter of a million in C. H. &D's. "

The "we" is explained by stating that the Major held an importantposition in the great banking house--a position Mr. Merrick had securedfor him some months previously. 

"That's it!" said Uncle John. "You've made me a quarter of a millionthat I don't want. The C. H. & D. Stocks were going to pieces when Ibought them, and I had reason to hope I'd lose a good round sum on them. But the confounded luck turned, and the result is an accumulation of allthis dreadful money. So, my dear Major, before I'm tempted to dosome-other foolish thing I've determined to run away, where businesscan't follow me, and where by industry and perseverance I can scattersome of my ill-gotten gains. "

The Major smiled grimly. 

"That's Europe, right enough, " he said. "And I don't object, John, toyour going there whenever you please. You're disgracefully countryfiedand uninformed for a man of means, and Europe'll open your eyes andprove to you how insignificant you really are. I advise you to visitIreland, sor, which I'm reliably informed is the centhral jewel inEurope's crown of beauty. Go; and go whinever you please, sor; butforbear the wickedness of putting foolish thoughts into our Patsy'ssweet head. She can't go a step, and you know it. It's positive crueltyto her, sir, to suggest such a thing!"

The Major's speech had a touch of the brogue when he became excited, butrecovered when he calmed down. 

"Why, you selfish old humbug!" cried Uncle John, indignantly. "Why can'tshe go, when there's money and time to spare? Would you keep her here tocuddle and spoil a vigorous man like yourself, when she can run away andsee the world and be happy?"

"It's a great happiness to cuddle the Major, " said Patsy, softly; "andthe poor man needs it as much as he does his slippers or his oatmeal forbreakfast. "

"And Patsy has the house to look after, " added the Major, complacently. 

Uncle John gave a snort of contempt. 

"For an unreasonable man, show me an Irishman, " he remarked. "Hereyou've been telling me how Europe is an education and a delight, and inthe next breath you deliberately deprive your little daughter, whom youpretend to love, of the advantages she might gain by a trip abroad! Andwhy? Just because you want her yourself, and might be a bit lonesomewithout her. But I'll settle that foolishness, sir, in short order. Youshall go with us. "

"Impossible!" ejaculated the Major. "It's the time of year I'm mostneeded in the office, and Mr. Marvin has been so kind and consideratethat I won't play him a dirty trick by leaving him in the lurch. "

Patsy nodded approval. 

"That's right, daddy, " she said. 

Uncle John lay back in the chair and put the newspaper over his faceagain. Patsy and her father stared at one another with grave intentness. Then the Major drew out his handkerchief and mopped his brow. 

"You'd like to go, mavourneen?" he asked, softly. 

"Yes, daddy; but I won't, of course. "

"Tut-tut! don't you go putting yourself against your old father's will, Patsy. It's not so far to Europe, " he continued, thoughtfully, "and youwon't be away much longer than you were when you went to Elmhurst afterAunt Jane's money--which you didn't get. Mary takes fine care of ourlittle rooms, and doubtless I shall be so busy that I won't miss you atall, at all. "

"Daddy!"

She was in his lap, now, her chubby arms clasped around his neck and hersoft cheek laid close beside his rough and ruddy one. 

"And when ye get back, Patsy darlin', " he whispered, tenderly strokingher hair, "the joy of the meeting will make up for all that we'vesuffered. It's the way of life, mavourneen. Unless a couple happens tobe Siamese twins, they're bound to get separated in the course ofevents, more or less, if not frequently. "

"I won't go, daddy. "

"Oh, yes you will. It's not like you to be breakin' my heart by stayin'home. Next week, said that wicked old uncle--he remoinds me of the onethat tried to desthroy the Babes in the Woods, Patsy dear. You must tryto reclaim him to humanity, for I'm hopin' there's a bit of good in theold rascal yet. " And he looked affectionately at the round little manunder the newspaper. 

Uncle John emerged again. It was wonderful how well he understood theDoyle family. His face was now smiling and wore a look of supremesatisfaction. 

"Your selfishness, my dear Major, " said he, "is like the husk on acocoanut. When you crack it there's plenty of milk within--and in yourcase it's the milk of human kindness. Come! let's talk over the trip. "

CHAPTER II

UNCLE JOHN MAKES PLANS

"The thought came to me a long time ago, " Uncle John resumed; "but itwas only yesterday that I got all the details fixed and settled in mymind. I've been a rough old duffer, Patsy, and in all my hard workinglife never thought of such a thing as travelling or enjoying myselfuntil I fell in with you, and you taught me how pleasant it is toscatter sunshine in the hearts of others. For to make others happy meansa lot of joy for yourself--a secret you were trying to keep from me, youcrafty young woman, until I discovered it by accident. Now, here I amwith three nieces on my hands--"

"You may say two, sir, " interrupted the Major. "Patsy can take care ofherself. "

"Hold your tongue, " said Uncle John. "I say I've got three nieces--asfine a trio of intelligent, sweet and attractive young women as you'llrun across in a month of Sundays. I dare you to deny it, sir. And theyare all at an age when an European trip will do them a world of good. Sooff we go, a week from Tuesday, in the first-class steamer 'PrincessIrene, ' bound from New York for the Bay of Naples!"

Patsy's eyes showed her delight. They fairly danced. 

"Have you told Beth and Louise?" she asked. 

His face fell. 

"Not yet, " he said. "I'd forgotten to mention it to them. "

"For my part, " continued the girl, "I can get ready in a week, easily. But Beth is way out in Ohio, and we don't know whether she can go ornot. "

"I'll telegraph her, and find out, " said Uncle John. 

"Do it to-day, " suggested the Major. 

"I will. "

"And to-morrow you must see Louise, " added Patsy. "I'm not sure she'llwant to go, dear. She's such a social butterfly, you know, that herengagements may keep her at home. "

"Do you mean to say she's engaged?" asked Mr. Merrick, aghast. 

"Only for the parties and receptions, Uncle. But it wouldn't surprise meif she was married soon. She's older than Beth or me, and has a host ofadmirers. "

"Perhaps she's old enough to be sensible, " suggested the Major. 

"Well, I'll see her and her mother to-morrow morning, " decided UncleJohn, "and if she can't find time for a trip to Europe at my expense, you and Beth shall go anyhow--and we'll bring Louise a wedding present. "

With this declaration he took his hat and walking stick and started forthe telegraph station, leaving Patsy and her father to canvass theunexpected situation. 

John Merrick was sixty years old, but as hale and rugged as a boy oftwenty. He had made his vast fortune on the Pacific Coast and during hisyears of busy activity had been practically forgotten by the Easternmembers of his family, who never had credited him with sufficientability to earn more than a precarious livelihood. But the man wasshrewd enough in a business way, although simple almost to childishnessin many other matters. When he returned, quite unheralded, to end hisdays "at home" and employ his ample wealth to the best advantage, he fora time kept his success a secret, and so learned much of thedispositions and personal characteristics of his three nieces. 

They were at that time visiting his unmarried sister, Jane, at herestate at Elmhurst, whither they had been invited for the first time;and in the race for Aunt Jane's fortune he watched the three girlscarefully and found much to admire in each one of them. Patsy Doyle, however, proved exceptionally frank and genuine, and when Aunt Jane atlast died and it was found she had no estate to bequeath, Patsy provedthe one bright star in the firmament of disappointment. Supposing UncleJohn to be poor, she insisted upon carrying him to New York with her andsharing with him the humble tenement room in which she lived with herfather--a retired veteran who helped pay the family expenses by keepingbooks for a mercantile firm, while Patsy worked in a hair-dresser'sshop. 

It was now that Uncle John proved a modern fairy godfather to AuntJane's nieces--who were likewise his own nieces. The three girls hadlittle in common except their poverty, Elizabeth De Graf being thedaughter of a music teacher, in Cloverton, Ohio, while Louise Merricklived with her widowed mother in a social atmosphere of the second classin New York, where the two women frankly intrigued to ensnare for Louisea husband who had sufficient means to ensure both mother and daughter acomfortable home. In spite of this worldly and unlovely ambition, whichtheir circumstances might partially excuse, Louise, who was butseventeen, had many good and womanly qualities, could they have beendeveloped in an atmosphere uninfluenced by the schemes of her vain andselfish mother. 

Uncle John, casting aside the mask of poverty, came to the relief of allthree girls. He settled the incomes of substantial sums of money uponboth Beth and Louise, making them practically independent. For Patsy hebought a handsome modern flat building located at 3708 Willing Square, and installed her and the Major in its cosiest apartment, the rents ofthe remaining flats giving the Doyles an adequate income for all time tocome. Here Uncle John, believing himself cordially welcome, as indeed hewas, made his own home, and it required no shrewd guessing to arrive atthe conclusion that little Patsy was destined to inherit some day allhis millions. 

The great banking and brokerage firm of Isham, Marvin & Co. Had longmanaged successfully John Merrick's vast fortune, and at hissolicitation it gave Major Doyle a responsible position in its mainoffice, with a salary that rendered him independent of his daughter'ssuddenly acquired wealth and made him proud and self-respecting. 

Money had no power to change the nature of the Doyles. The Majorremained the same simple, honest, courteous yet brusque old warrior whohad won Uncle John's love as a hard working book-keeper; and Patsy'sbright and sunny disposition had certain power to cheer any home, whether located in a palace or a hovel. 

Never before in his life had Uncle John been so supremely happy, andnever before had Aunt Jane's three nieces had so many advantages andpleasures. It was to confer still further benefits upon these girls thattheir eccentric uncle had planned this unexpected European trip. 

His telegram to Elizabeth was characteristic:

"Patsy, Louise and I sail for Europe next Tuesday. Will you join us asmy guest? If so, take first train to New York, where I will look afteryour outfit. Answer immediately. "

That was a message likely to surprise a country girl, but it did notstrike John Merrick as in any way extraordinary. He thought he coulddepend upon Beth. She would be as eager to go as he was to have her, andwhen he had paid for the telegram he dismissed the matter from furtherthought. 

Next morning Patsy reminded him that instead of going down town he mustpersonally notify Louise Merrick of the proposed trip; so he took across-town line and arrived at the Merrick's home at nine o'clock. 

Mrs. Merrick was in a morning wrapper, sipping her coffee in an upperroom. But she could not deny herself to Uncle John, her dead husband'sbrother and her only daughter's benefactor (which meant indirectly herown benefactor), so she ordered the maid to show him up at once. 

"Louise is still sweetly sleeping, " she said, "and won't waken for hoursyet. "

"Is anything wrong with her?" he asked, anxiously. 

"Oh, dear, no! but everyone does not get up with the milkman, as you do, John; and the dear child was at the opera last night, which made herlate in getting home. "

"Doesn't the opera let out before midnight, the same as the theatres?"he asked. 

"I believe so; but there is the supper, afterward, you know. "

"Ah, yes, " he returned, thoughtfully. "I've always noticed that theopera makes folks desperately hungry, for they flock to the restaurantsas soon as they can get away. Singular, isn't it?"

"Why, I never thought of it in that light. "

"But Louise is well?"

"Quite well, thank you. "

"That's a great relief, for I'm going to take her to Europe with me nextweek, " he said. 

Mrs. Merrick was so astonished that she nearly dropped her coffee-cupand could make no better reply than to stare blankly at herbrother-in-law. 

"We sail Tuesday, " continued Uncle John, "and you must have my nieceready in time and deliver her on board the 'Princess Irene' at Hobokenat nine o'clock, sharp. "

"But John--John!" gasped Mrs. Merrick, feebly, "it will take a month, atleast, to make her gowns, and--"

"Stuff and rubbish!" he growled. "That shows, Martha, how little youknow about European trips. No one makes gowns to go abroad with; you buy'em in Paris to bring home. "

"Ah, yes; to be sure, " she muttered. "Perhaps, then, it can be done, ifLouise, has no other engagements. "

"Just what Patsy said. See here, Martha, do you imagine that any girlwho is half human could have engagements that would keep her fromEurope?"

"But the requirements of society--"

"You'll get me riled, pretty soon, Martha; and if you do you'll wish youhadn't. "

This speech frightened the woman. It wouldn't do to provoke Uncle John, however unreasonable he happened to be. So she said, meekly:

"I've no doubt Louise will be delighted to go, and so will I. "

"You!"

"Why--why--whom do you intend taking?"

"Just the three girls--Aunt Jane's three nieces. Also mine. "

"But you'll want a chaperone for them. "

"Why so?"

"Propriety requires it; and so does ordinary prudence. Louise, I know, will be discreet, for it is her nature; but Patsy is such a littleflyaway and Beth so deep and demure, that without a chaperone they mightcause you a lot of trouble. "

Uncle John grew red and his eyes flashed. 

"A chaperone!" he cried, contemptuously; "not any in mine, MarthaMerrick. Either we young folks go alone, without any death's head toperpetually glower at us, or we don't go at all! Three better girlsnever lived, and I'll trust 'em anywhere. Besides that, we aren't goingto any of your confounded social functions; we're going on a reg'larpicnic, and if I don't give those girls the time of their lives my nameain't John Merrick. A chaperone, indeed!"

Mrs. Merrick held up her hands in horror. 

"I'm not sure, John, " she gasped, "that I ought to trust my dear childwith an uncle who disregards so openly the proprieties. "

"Well, I'm sure; and the thing's settled, " he said, more calmly. "Don'tworry, ma'am. I'll look after Patsy and Beth, and Louise will look afterall of us--just as she does after you--because she's so discreet. Talkabout your being a chaperone! Why, you don't dare say your soul's yourown when Louise is awake. That chaperone business is allhumbuggery--unless an old uncle like me can be a chaperone. Anyhow, I'mthe only one that's going to be appointed. I won't wait for Louise towake up. Just tell her the news and help her to get ready on time. Andnow, I'm off. Good morning, Martha. "

She really had no words of protest ready at hand, and it was long afterqueer old John Merrick had gone away that she remembered a dozeneffective speeches that she might have delivered. 

"After all, " she sighed, taking up her cup again, "it may be the bestthing in the world for Louise. We don't know whether that young Weldon, who is paying her attentions just now, is going to inherit his father'smoney or not. He's been a bit wild, I've heard, and it is just as wellto postpone any engagement until we find out the facts. I can do thatnicely while my sweet child is in Europe with Uncle John, and away fromall danger of entanglements. Really, it's an ill wind that blows nogood! I'll go talk with Louise. "

CHAPTER III

"ALL ASHORE"

Beth De Graf was a puzzle to all who knew her. She was a puzzle even toherself, and was wont to say, indifferently, that the problem was notworth a solution. For this beautiful girl of fifteen was somewhat bitterand misanthropic, a condition perhaps due to the uncongenial atmospherein which she had been reared. She was of dark complexion and her bigbrown eyes held a sombre and unfathomable expression. Once she hadsecretly studied their reflection in a mirror, and the eyes awed andfrightened her, and made her uneasy. She had analyzed them much as ifthey belonged to someone else, and wondered what lay behind their mask, and what their capabilities might be. 

But this morbid condition mostly affected her when she was at home, listening to the unpleasant bickerings of her father and mother, whoquarrelled constantly over trifles that Beth completely ignored. Herparents seemed like two ill tempered animals confined in the same cage, she thought, and their snarls had long since ceased to interest her. 

This condition had, of course, been infinitely worse in all thosedreadful years when they were poverty stricken. Since Uncle John hadsettled a comfortable income on his niece the grocer was paid promptlyand Mrs. De Graf wore a silk dress on Sundays and held her chin a littlehigher than any other of the Cloverton ladies dared do. The Professor, no longer harrassed by debts, devoted less time to the drudgery ofteaching and began the composition of an oratorio that he firmlybelieved would render his name famous. So, there being less to quarrelabout, Beth's parents indulged more moderately in that pastime; buttheir natures were discordant, and harmony in the De Graf household wasimpossible. 

When away from home Beth's disposition softened. Some of herschool-friends had seen her smile--a wonderful and charming phenomenon, during which her expression grew sweet and bewitchingly animated and herbrown eyes radiant with mirthful light. It was not the same Beth at all. 

Sometimes, when the nieces were all at Aunt Jane's, Beth had snuggled inthe arms of her cousin Louise, who had a way of rendering herselfagreeable to all with whom she came in contact, and tried hard to winthe affection of the frankly antagonistic girl. At such times thegentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved andfondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd atreading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force oftenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorableif she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did nottell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and sosuspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedlyobtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion asarrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse hercousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. 

The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteenwas demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietlyhanded it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitationto a church picnic:

"I think I shall go. "

"Nothing like that ever happened to me, " remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have takenme to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John alwayswas a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?"

"To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy andstay with her until we sail. "

"Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless facehalf curiously. 

"Yes, " returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is alwaysinteresting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane atElmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe. "

Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother anddaughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She hadnever tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhatresented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrastedunfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herselfattractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Bethout of the way for a few months. 

The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to thestation. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professorgood-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio wasespecially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughterlightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Bethwould have a good time. 

The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed byher parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she hadno reason to expect anything different. 

Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond ofeveryone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastickisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the samespontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothinghalf hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there wouldnever be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. 

Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of hispretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strataof womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. Hehad promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the Europeantrip would give him his opportunity. 

Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously anddelightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and thethree girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was asnew to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much thatwas unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. Youhave to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. 

Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensiveand she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make useof. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly moreexperienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as atraveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldlymother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and hercharacter was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, hervery suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so muchmore comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She wasnow past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicateand attractive face which, without being beautiful, was consideredpleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, andher light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throngglances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of goodbreeding and feminine cleverness. 

All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed anyundue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited afair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once beenthrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities oftemperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls weregenerous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and hadresolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve oftheir departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned forthem. 

Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositionsof any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to himstrongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that hesecretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was socynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But hereflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, althoughhe might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls asthey were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy tohave found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. 

At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John"corralled his females, " as he expressed it, and delivered them safelyon board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the"Princess Irene, " together with their bags and baggage, their flowersand fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to avoyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by theiraffectionate but ill-advised friends. 

Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see herdaughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldlyadmonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mindon the spur of the moment. 

Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearingan assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at hergoing, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at firstthought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. 

The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, andgave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to"walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. 

Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellowallowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of amoment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. Helaughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised thegirl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his oldcolonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he couldenjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaintsayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsyherself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly oldheart. 

Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye andthe subject of his most loving care. 

"An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an'the leathern pocket-book from Florence, " the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An'don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' rememberthat Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty milean hour, an'--"

"It's a slander, " said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics inmy life. "

"Major, " observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips tryingto smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's fullof spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after youproperly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!"

"All ashore!" called a loud voice. 

The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; andthen the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefsfrantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferouslyand the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the greatship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay tobegin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of theMediterranean. 

CHAPTER IV

SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING

For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements mostadmirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was theproper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most ofthe passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion tointerview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever otherofficial he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally thatthe effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. 

His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; themost desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famishedbecause breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; thebest waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward theircabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart ofmaid could wish for. 

At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter beforeUncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat nexther uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she saidnothing. 

Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especiallyas he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. 

It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped aserious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I canexpress that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A youngman named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, youknow--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautionedher not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he hasquarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant alsoasserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot becontrolled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough atour house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely toinherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep himdangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you caneasily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is noobject in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one whocannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have sofondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by theimpetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by themost stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact fromLouise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to ArthurWeldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. Bythat time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when Ican better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I havehopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I canarouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellowover. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, notto allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try tointerest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her toforget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a lovingmother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shallbe forever deeply grateful. "

"It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished readingthe letter. 

"Yes, " he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed itinto his pocket. 

"What does she say, Uncle?"

"Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's gettingcold. "

The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calmhis irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessedthat Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she hadread it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take thematter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love asher mother had declared. 

He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit torepose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with anyknowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was startingfor a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's"entanglement, "--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in MarthaMerrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered byeither love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When shereturned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. Hewould have nothing to do with it in any way. 

As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you mayimagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face andkindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of fromfifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attentionof every passenger aboard the ship. 

It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightlywith every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction toconfide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces toEurope to "see the sights and have the time of their lives. "

Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accordedhim great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openlyscorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in thefinancial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and aninvariably cheerful comrade. 

The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they hadsailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode thewaves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at allaffected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to beindisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and UncleJohn sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up totheir waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry andlight hearted. 

Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He wascarelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd lookof mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl'sattention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech andin manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and withalmost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. 

"You can't be American, " she said. 

"I am Sicilian, " was the proud answer. 

"That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm gladit's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingomyself, " she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you managethe English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together. "

He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face withhis keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely:

"Where do you go?"

"Why, to Europe, " she replied, as if surprised. 

"Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all, " he responded, angrily. "Europe isbig. To what part do you journey?"

Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up theirdestination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it assufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought anarmful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure shehad never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough tosatisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledgeconcerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said:

"Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?"

"What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can'tremember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course. "

"That is Napoli, " said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?"

"And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. 

"Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm nota time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has thewhole programme mapped out in his head. "

"Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. 

"No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all writtendown clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. Byand bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, andwherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take iteasy, Patsy dear, and don't worry. "

"That's all right, Uncle, " she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worryingthe least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall wesay?"

"Eu-rope. "

"And then?" mischievously. 

"And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter. "

That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasantcompanion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talkand "be sociable. " By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, andalways brightened when she came to sit beside him. 

"You'll have to tell me your name, you know, " she said to him; "becauseI 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. "

"Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that Iintend to be proper and polite, " she responded, sweetly. 

Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have castoff her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl wasreally happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her sowonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a selectcircle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two bigbrothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the youngmen's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it wasfound that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance atonce. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to drawout all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortonswere so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that theyinspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordialrelations between them. 

And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboardthe "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth andinsisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise hadconquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiringgroup around her cousin that included most of the desirable youngfellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to hercourtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little partin the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adorationwas new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor didthe young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as TomHorton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty. "

As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success thathe adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what hecalled his family circle. 

Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh andjoined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolatedherself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck;but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself toredeem the situation. 

In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in athousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had adecided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise reallydesired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men arenot likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. 

The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating toBeth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magneticpower assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused tochange his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself moregenuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many wereclamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hourswithout exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening tothe band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. 

Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed thatBeth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters taketheir course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knewLouise was only playing with them. 

The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of Aprilthey passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and SanJorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of whitehouses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On thesixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish andSpanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. Theworld-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the shipanchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighterand took them for a brief excursion ashore. 

Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors arebarred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seemespecially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinctdisappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basketphaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stonearches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyedMoors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and thequeer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews andred-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that wasfascinating in the extreme. 

But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almostbewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated athaving "seen an' done, " as Uncle John declared, their first foreignport. 

And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that theyaroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her waytoward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had alwaysseemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if bymagic directly before their eyes. 

Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that healways welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoonshe sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. 

"When will we get to Naples?" she asked. 

"To-morrow evening, probably, " answered the captain. "See, it is over inthat direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky. "

"And what is the gray cloud, Captain?"

"I do not know, " said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. AtGibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it willcause you no inconvenience. "

"Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. 

The captain shook his head. 

"Interesting, perhaps, " he admitted; "but no great calamity that causesthousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine. '"

"Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering. "

Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coastthe gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed topervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to considerthat he had no time to converse with his little friend. 

Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at therail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skiesahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly:

"Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankruptgovernment. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is asecond cousin to Etna. "

"Hm, " said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption. "

The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easyin his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to thisforeign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by anintangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strongan objection to unnecessary worry. 

Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberlycanvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darknessincreased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drinkher tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon thesurface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dustwhich had fallen from the skies. 

The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. Theair was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnightsurrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water ofthe bay itself were alike invisible. 

CHAPTER V

VESUVIUS RAMPANT

It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred andsix--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a nightwhich has its place in history. 

At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at theImmacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that nopassengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall ofashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. 

A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beththat he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. Thedeck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room andsaloons to escape the lava dust. 

Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a louddetonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe ofthe enveloping gloom were so palpable as almost to be felt. 

Toward midnight the wind changed, driving the cloud of ashes to thesouthward and sufficiently clearing the atmosphere to allow the angryglow of the crater to be distinctly seen. Now it shot a pillar of firethousands of feet straight into the heavens; then it would darken androll skyward great clouds that were illumined by the showers of sparksaccompanying them. 

The windows of every cabin facing the volcano were filled with eagerfaces, and in the smoking room Uncle John clasped Beth around the waistwith one arm and Patsy with the other and watched the wonderfulexhibition through the window with a grave and anxious face. Tom Hortonhad taken a position at one side of them and the dark Italian at theother. The latter assured Patsy they were in no danger whatever. Tomsecretly hoped they were, and laid brave plans for rescuing Beth orperishing at her side. Louise chose to lie in her berth and awaitevents with calm resignation. If they escaped she would not look haggardand hollow-eyed when morning came. If a catastrophy was pending shewould have no power to prevent it. 

It was four o'clock on Sunday morning when Vesuvius finally reached theclimax of her travail. With a deep groan of anguish the mountain burstasunder, and from its side rolled a great stream of molten lava thatslowly spread down the slope, consuming trees, vineyards and dwellingsin its path and overwhelming the fated city of Bosco-Trecase. 

Our friends marked the course of destruction by watching the thread offire slowly wander down the mountain slope. They did not know of thedesolation it was causing, but the sight was terrible enough to inspireawe in every breast. 

The volcano was easier after that final outburst, but the black cloudsformed thicker than ever, and soon obscured the sky again. 

CHAPTER VI

UNDER A CLOUD

"After all, " said Uncle John, next morning, "we may consider ourselvesvery lucky. Your parents might have come to Naples a hundred times, mydears, and your children may come a hundred times more, and yet neversee the sights that have greeted us on our arrival. If the confoundedold hill was bound to spout, it did the fair thing by spouting when wewere around. Eh, Patsy?"

"I quite agree with you, " said the girl. "I wouldn't have missed it foranything--if it really had to behave so. "

"But you'll pay for it!" growled Signor Valdi, who had overheard theseremarks. "You will pay for it with a thousand discomforts--and I'm gladthat is so. Vesuvio is hell let loose; and it amuses you. Hundreds arelying dead and crushed; and you are lucky to be here. Listen, " hedropped his voice to a whisper: "if these Neapolitans could see therejoicing in my heart, they would kill me. And you? Pah! you are nobetter. You also rejoice--and they will welcome you to Naples. I haveadvice. Do not go on shore. It is useless. "

They were all startled by this strange speech, and the reproof itconveyed made them a trifle uncomfortable; but Uncle John whispered thatthe man was mad, and to pay no attention to him. 

Although ashes still fell softly upon the ship the day had somewhatlightened the gloom and they could see from deck the dim outlines of theshore. A crowd of boats presently swarmed around them, their occupantseagerly clamoring for passengers to go ashore, or offering fruits, flowers and souvenirs to any who might be induced to purchase. Theirindifference to their own and their city's danger was astonishing. Itwas their custom to greet arriving steamers in this way, for by thismeans they gained a livelihood. Nothing short of absolute destructionseemed able to interfere with their established occupations. 

A steam tender also came alongside, and after a cordial farewell to theship's officers and their travelling acquaintances, Uncle John placedhis nieces and their baggage aboard the tender, which shortly depositedthem safely upon the dock. 

Perhaps a lot of passengers more dismal looking never before landed onthe beautiful shores of Naples--beautiful no longer, but presenting anappearance gray and grewsome. Ashes were ankle deep in the streets--afine, flour-like dust that clung to your clothing, filled your eyes andlungs and seemed to penetrate everywhere. The foliage of the trees andshrubbery drooped under its load and had turned from green to theall-pervading gray. The grass was covered; the cornices and balconies ofthe houses were banked with ashes. 

"Bless me!" said Uncle John. "It's as bad as Pompey, or whatever thatcity was called that was buried in the Bible days. "

"Oh, not quite, Uncle, " answered Patsy, in her cheery voice; "but it maybe, before Vesuvius is satisfied. "

"It is certainly bad enough, " observed Louise, pouting as she marked thedestruction of her pretty cloak by the grimy deposit that was fastchanging its color and texture. 

"Well, let us get under shelter as soon as possible, " said Uncle John. 

The outlines of a carriage were visible a short distance away. He walkedup to the driver and said:

"We want to go to a hotel. "

The man paid no attention. 

"Ask him how much he charges, Uncle. You know you mustn't take a cab inNaples without bargaining. "

"Why not?"

"The driver will swindle you. "

"I'll risk that, " he answered. "Just now we're lucky if we get acarriage at all. " He reached up and prodded the jehu in the ribs withhis cane. "How much to the Hotel Vesuvius?" he demanded, loudly. 

The man woke up and flourished his whip, at the same time bursting intoa flood of Italian. 

The girls listened carefully. They had been trying to study Italianfrom a small book Beth had bought entitled "Italian in Three Weekswithout a Master, " but not a word the driver of the carriage said seemedto have occurred in the vocabulary of the book. He repeated "Vesuvio"many times, however, with scornful, angry or imploring intonations, andLouise finally said:

"He thinks you want to go to the volcano, Uncle. The hotel is theVesuve, not the Vesuvius. "

"What's the difference?"

"I don't know. "

"All right; you girls just hop in, and leave the rest to me. "

He tumbled them all into the vehicle, bag and baggage, and then saidsternly to the driver:

"Ho-tel Ve-suve--Ve-suve--ho-tel Ve-suve! Drive there darned quick, orI'll break your confounded neck. "

The carriage started. It plowed its way jerkily through the dust-ladenstreets and finally stopped at an imposing looking structure. The daywas growing darker, and an electric lamp burned before the entrance. But no one came out to receive them. 

Uncle John climbed out and read the sign. "Hotel du Vesuve. " It was theestablishment he had been advised to stop at while in Naples. Hecompared the sign with a card which he drew from his pocket, and knewthat he had made no mistake. 

Entering the spacious lobby, he found it deserted. In the office a manwas hastily making a package of some books and papers and did notrespond or even look up when spoken to. At the concierge's desk a big, whiskered man sat staring straight ahead of him with a look of abjectterror in his eyes. 

"Good morning, " said Uncle John. "Fine day, isn't it?"

"Did you hear it?" whispered the concierge, as a dull boom, like that ofa distant cannon, made the windows rattle in their casements. 

"Of course, " replied Mr. Merrick, carelessly. "Old Vesuve seems on arampage. But never mind that now. We've just come from America, wherethe mountains are more polite, and we're going to stop at your hotel. "

The concierge's eyes wandered from the man to the three girls who hadentered and grouped themselves behind him. Then they fell upon thedriver of the carriage, who burst into a torrent of vociferous butwholly unintelligible exclamations which Uncle John declared "must be anexcuse--and a mighty poor one--for talking. "

The whiskered man, whose cap was elaborately embroidered in gold withthe words "Hotel du Vesuve, " seemed to understand the driver. He sigheddrearily and said to Mr. Merrick:

"You must pay him thirty lira. "

"How much is that?"

"Six dollars. "

"Not by a jugfull!"

"You made no bargain. "

"I couldn't. He can't talk. "

"He claims it is you who cannot talk. "

"What!"

"And prices are advanced during these awful days. What does it matter?Your money will do you no good when we are all buried deep in ash andscoria. "

The big man shuddered at this gloomy picture, and added, listlessly:"You'll have to pay. "

Uncle John paid, but the driver wouldn't accept American money. Thedisconsolate concierge would, though. He unlocked a drawer, put the sixdollars into one section and drew from another two ten-lira notes. Thedriver took them, bowed respectfully to the whiskered man, shot abroadside of invective Italian at the unconscious Americans, and leftthe hotel. 

"How about rooms?" asked Uncle John. 

"Take any you please, " answered the concierge. "All our guests are gonebut two--two mad Americans like yourselves. The servants are also gone;the chef has gone; the elevator conductors are gone. If you stay you'llhave to walk up. "

"Where have they all gone?" asked Uncle John, wonderingly. 

"Fled, sir; fled to escape destruction. They remember Pompeii. OnlySignor Floriano, the proprietor, and myself are left. We stick to thelast. We are brave. "

"So I see. Now, look here, my manly hero. It's possible we shall alllive through it; I'll bet you a thousand to ten that we do. And thenyou'll be glad to realize you've pocketed a little more American money. Come out of that box and show us some rooms, and I'll help to build upyour fortune. "

The concierge obeyed. Even the horrors of the situation could noteliminate from his carefully trained nature that desire to accumulatewhich is the prime qualification of his profession. The Americans walkedup one flight and found spacious rooms on the first floor, of which theyimmediately took possession. 

"Send for our trunks, " said Mr. Merrick; and the man consented to do soprovided he could secure a proper vehicle. 

"You will be obliged to pay high for it, " he warned; "but that will notmatter. To witness the destruction of our beautiful Naples is an unusualsight. It will be worth your money. "

"We'll settle that in the dim hereafter, " replied Uncle John. "You getthe trunks, and I'll take care of the finances. "

When the concierge had retired the girls began to stuff newspapers intothe cracks of the windows of their sitting room, where the fine ash wassifting in and forming little drifts several inches in thickness. Alsothe atmosphere of the room was filled with impalpable particles of dust, which rendered breathing oppressive and unpleasant. 

Uncle John watched them for a time, and his brow clouded. 

"See here, girls, " he exclaimed; "let's hold a council of war. Do yousuppose we are in any real danger?"

They grouped around him with eager interest. 

"It's something new to be in danger, and rather exciting, don't youthink?" said Beth. "But perhaps we're as safe as we would be at home. "

"Once, " said Louise, slowly, "there was a great eruption of Vesuviuswhich destroyed the cities of Herculaneum and Pompeii. Many of theinhabitants were buried alive. Perhaps they thought there was no realdanger. "

Uncle John scratched his head reflectively. 

"I take it, " he observed, "that the moral of your story is to light outwhile we have the chance. "

"Not necessarily, " observed the girl, smiling at his perplexity. "It islikewise true that many other eruptions have occurred, when littledamage was done. "

"Forewarned is forearmed, " declared Patsy. "Naples isn't buried morethan six inches in ashes, as yet, and it will take days for them toreach to our windows, provided they're falling at the same rate they donow. I don't see any use of getting scared before to-morrow, anyhow. "

"It's a big hill, " said Uncle John, gravely, "and I've no right to takefoolish chances with three girls on my hands. "

"I'm not frightened, Uncle John. "

"Nor I. "

"Nor I, the least bit. "

"Everyone has left the hotel but ourselves, " said he. 

"How sorry they will be, afterward, " remarked Beth. 

He looked at them admiringly, and kissed each one. 

"You stay in this room and don't move a peg till I get back, " heenjoined them; "I'm going out to look over the situation. "

CHAPTER VII

A FRIEND IN NEED

Some of Mr. Merrick's business friends in New York, hearing of hisproposed trip, had given him letters of introduction to people invarious European cities. He had accepted them--quite a bunch, altogether--but had firmly resolved not to use them. Neither he nor thenieces cared to make superficial acquaintances during their wanderings. Yet Uncle John chanced to remember that one of these letters was to acertain Colonel Angeli of the Twelfth Italian Regiment, occupying thebarracks on the Pizzofalcone hill at Naples. This introduction, tenderedby a relative of the Colonel's American wife, was now reposing in Mr. Merrick's pocket, and he promptly decided to make use of it in order toobtain expert advice as to the wisdom of remaining in the stricken city. 

Enquiring his way from the still dazed concierge, he found that thePizzofalcone barracks were just behind the hotel but several hundredfeet above it; so he turned up the Strada St. Lucia and soon came uponthe narrow lane that wound upward to the fortifications. It was a longand tedious climb in the semi-darkness caused by the steady fall ofashes, and at intervals the detonations from Vesuvius shook the hugerock and made its massive bulk seem insecure. But the little manpersevered, and finally with sweating brow arrived at the barracks. 

A soldier carried in the letter to his colonel and presently returned tousher Uncle John through the vast building, up a flight of steps, and soto a large covered balcony suspended many hundred feet above the ViaPartenope, where the hotel was situated. 

Here was seated a group of officers, watching intently the cloud thatmarked the location of the volcano. Colonel Angeli, big and bluff, hisuniform gorgeous, his dark, heavy moustaches carefully waxed, hishandsome face as ingenuous and merry as a schoolboy's, greeted theAmerican with a gracious courtesy that made Uncle John feel quite athis ease. When he heard of the nieces the Italian made a grimace andthen laughed. 

"I am despairing, signore, " said he, in English sufficientlystrangulated to be amusing but nevertheless quite comprehensible, "thatyou and the sweet signorini are to see our lovely Naples undertribulations so very great. But yesterday, in all the world is no cityso enchanting, so brilliant, so gay. To-day--look! is it not horrible?Vesuvio is sick, and Naples mourns until the tyrant is well again. "

"But the danger, " said Uncle John. "What do you think of the wisdom ofour staying here? Is it safe to keep my girls in Naples during thiseruption?"

"Ah! Why not? This very morning the mountain asunder burst, and we wholove our people dread the news of devastation we shall hear. From theobservatory, where His Majesty's faithful servant still remains, cometelegrams that the great pebbles--what we call scoria--have ruinedOttajano and San Guiseppe. Perhaps they are overwhelmed. But the beasthas vomited; he will feel better now, and ever become more quiet. "

"I suppose, " remarked Mr. Merrick, thoughtfully, "that no one knowsexactly what the blamed hill may do next. I don't like to take chanceswith three girls on my hands. They are a valuable lot, Colonel, andworth saving. "

The boyish Italian instantly looked grave. Then he led Uncle John awayfrom the others, although doubtless he was the only officer present ableto speak or understand English, and said to him:

"Where are you living?"

"At the hotel named after your sick mountain--the Vesuve. "

"Very good. In the bay, not distant from your hotel, lies a governmentlaunch that is under my command. At my home in the Viala Elena are awife and two children, who, should danger that is serious arise, will beput by my soldiers on the launch, to carry them to safety. Admirable, isit not?"

"Very good arrangement, " said Uncle John. 

"It renders me content to know that in any difficulty they cannot behurt. I am not scare, myself, but it is pleasant to know I have what youcall the side that is safe. From my American wife I have many of yourexcellent speech figures. But now! The launch is big. Remain happy inNaples--happy as Vesuvio will let you--and watch his vast, his giganticexhibition. If danger come, you all enter my launch and be saved. If nodanger, you have a marvelous experience. " The serious look glided fromhis face, and was replaced by a smile as bright as before. 

"Thank you very much, " responded Uncle John, gratefully. "I shall goback to the girls well satisfied. "

"Make the signorini stay in to-day, " warned the colonel. "It is bad, just now, and so black one can nothing at all observe. To-morrow it willbe better, and all can go without. I will see you myself, then, and tellyou what to do. "

Then he insisted that Uncle John clear his parched throat with a glassof vermouth--a harmless drink of which all Italians are very fond--andsent him away much refreshed in body and mind. 

He made his way through the ashy rain back to the hotel. People wereholding umbrellas over their heads and plodding through the dust withseeming unconcern. At one corner a street singer was warbling, stoppingfrequently to cough the lava dust from his throat or shake it from hisbeloved mandolin. A procession of peasants passed, chanting slowly andsolemnly a religious hymn. At the head of the column was borne aloft agilded statuette of the Virgin, and although Uncle John did not know it, these simple folks were trusting in the sacred image to avert furtherdisaster from the angry mountain. 

On arriving home Mr. Merrick told the girls with great elation of hisnew friend, and how they were to be taken aboard the launch in case ofemergency. 

"But how will we know when danger threatens?" asked Louise. 

While Uncle John tried to think of an answer to this puzzling querysomeone knocked upon the door. The concierge was standing in thepassage and beside him was a soldier in uniform, a natty cock's plumeupon his beaver hat and a short carbine over his arm. 

"A guard from Colonel Angeli, Signor, " said the concierge, respectfully--the first respectful tone he had yet employed. 

The soldier took off his hat with a flourish, and bowed low. 

"He is to remain in the hotel, sir, yet will not disturb you in anyway, " continued the whiskered one. "But should he approach you at anytime and beckon you to follow him, do so at once, and withouthesitation. It is Colonel Angeli's wish. You are in the charge of thisbrave man, who will watch over your welfare. "

"That settles it, my dears, " said Uncle John, cheerfully, when thesoldier and the concierge had withdrawn. "This Italian friend doesn't dothings by halves, and I take it we are perfectly safe from this timeon. "

CHAPTER VIII

ACROSS THE BAY

Tom Horton called an hour later. He was in despair because his party haddecided to leave Naples for Rome, and he feared Beth would be engulfedby the volcano unless he was present to protect her. 

"Mr. Merrick, " said the boy, earnestly, "you'll take good care of MissDe Graf, sir, won't you? We both live in Ohio, you know, and we've justgot acquainted; and--and I'd like to see her again, some time, if sheescapes. "

Uncle John's eyes twinkled, but he drew a long face. 

"My dear Tom, " he said, "don't ask me to take care of anyone--pleasedon't! I brought these girls along to take care of _me_--three of 'em, sir--and they've got to do their duty. Don't you worry about the girls;just you worry about _me_. "

That was not much consolation for the poor fellow, but he could donothing more than wring their hands--Beth's twice, by mistake--and wishthem good luck before he hurried away to rejoin his family. 

"I'm sorry to see him go, " said Beth, honestly. "Tom is a nice boy. "

"Quite right, " agreed Uncle John. "I hope we shall meet no worse fellowsthan Tom Horton. "

At noon they were served a modest luncheon in their rooms, for SignorFloriano, having sent his important papers to a place of safety, hadresolved to stick to his hotel and do his duty by any guests that choseto remain with him in defiance of the existent conditions. He hadsucceeded in retaining a few servants who had more courage than thosethat had stampeded at the first alarm, and while the hotel service forthe next few days was very inadequate, no one was liable to suffer anygreat privation. 

During the afternoon the gloom grew denser than before, while thickerthan ever fell the rain of ashes. This was the worst day Naplesexperienced during the great eruption, and Uncle John and his nieceswere content to keep their rooms and live in the glare of electriclights. Owing to their wise precautions to keep out the heavily ladenair they breathed as little lava dust into their lungs as any people, perhaps, in the city; but to escape all was impossible. Their eyes andthroats became more or less inflamed by the floating atoms, and thegirls declared they felt as if they were sealed up in a tomb. 

"Well, my chickens, how do you like being abroad, and actually inEurope?" enquired Uncle John, cheerfully. 

Beth and Patsy smiled at him, but Louise looked up from the Baedeckershe was studying and replied:

"It's simply delightful, Uncle, and I'm glad we happened here duringthis splendid eruption of Vesuvius. Only--only--"

"Only what, my dear?"

"Only it is such hard work to keep clean, " answered his dainty niece. "Even the water is full of lava, and I'm sure my face looks like achimney-sweep's. "

"And you, Beth?"

"I don't like it, Uncle. I'm sure I'd prefer Naples in sunshine, although this is an experience we can brag about when we get home. "

"That is the idea, exactly, " said Louise, "and the only thing thatreconciles me to the discomforts. Thousands see Naples in sunshine, butfew can boast seeing Vesuvius in eruption. It will give us considerableprestige when we return home. "

"Ah, that is why I selected this time to bring you here, " declared UncleJohn, with a comical wink. "I ordered the eruption before I left home, and I must say they've been very prompt about it, and done the thing upbrown. Eh, Patsy?"

"Right you are, Uncle. But you might tell 'em to turn off the eruptionnow, because we've had enough. "

"Don't like Eu-rope, eh?"

"Why, if I thought all Europe was surrounded by volcanoes, I'd go homeat once, if I had to walk. But the geographies don't mention many ofthese spouters, so we may as well stick out our present experience andhope the rest of the continent will behave better. The Major'll beworried to death when he hears of this. "

"I've sent him a cable, " said Uncle John. 

"What did you say?" asked Patsy, eagerly. 

"'All safe and well and enjoying the fireworks. '"

"I'm glad you did that, " replied the girl, deeply grateful at thisevidence of thoughtfulness. "It's bad enough for the Major to have meaway, without making him worry, into the bargain. "

"Well, no one is likely to worry about me, " said Beth, philosophically. 

"Mother seldom reads the papers, except to get the society news, "remarked Louise. "I doubt if she'll hear of the eruption, unless theMajor happens to tell her. "

"I've cabled them all, " said Uncle John. "They're entitled to know thattheir kidiwinkles are in good shape. "

The evening was a tedious one, although they tried to enliven it with agame of bridge, in which Uncle John and Louise were quite proficientand the others dreadfully incompetent. Once in a while the volcanothundered a deep detonation that caused the windows to shiver, but theAmericans were getting used to the sound and paid little heed to it. 

In the morning the wind had shifted, and although the air was still fullof dust all near-by objects were clearly visible and even the outline ofVesuvius could be seen sending skyward its pillar of black smoke. 

Colonel Angeli appeared soon after breakfast, his uniform fresh andbright and his boyish face beaming as pleasantly as ever. 

"Vesuvio is better, " said he, "but the rascal has badly acted and donemuch harm to our poor people. Like Herculaneum, our Boscatrecase iscovered with lava; like Pompeii our Ottajano is buried in ashes. Let meadvise you. To-day go to Sorrento, and there stay for a time, until wecan the dust brush from our streets and prepare to welcome you with thecomfort more serene. I must myself ride to the villages that aresuffering. My men are already gone, with the Red-Cross corps, to succorwhom they can. I will send to you word when you may return. Just now, should you stay, you will be able to see nothing at all. "

"I believe that is wise counsel, " replied Uncle John. 

"Sorrento has no ashes, " continued the Colonel, "and from there you maywatch the volcano better than from Naples. To-day come the Duke andDuchess d'Aosta to render assistance to the homeless and hungry;to-morrow His Majesty the King will be here to discover what damage hasbeen caused. Alas! we have no sackcloth, but we are in ashes. I trustyou will pardon my poor Naples for her present inhospitality. "

"Sure thing, " said Uncle John. "The city may be under a cloud, but herpeople are the right stuff, and we are greatly obliged to you for allyour kindness to us. "

"But that is so little!" said the colonel, deprecatingly. 

They decided to leave their heavy baggage at the Hotel du Vesuve, andcarried only their suit-cases and light luggage aboard the littlesteamer that was bound across the bay for Sorrento. The decks werethronged with people as eager to get away from the stricken city as wereour friends, and Uncle John was only enabled to secure seats for hisgirls by bribing a steward so heavily that even that modern brigand wasamazed at his good fortune. 

The ride was short but very interesting, for they passed under theshadow of the smoking mountain and came into a fresh, sweet atmospherethat was guiltless of a speck of the disagreeable lava dust that had solong annoyed them. The high bluffs of Sorrento, with their picturesquevillas and big hotels, seemed traced in burnished silver by the strongsunshine, and every member of Uncle John's party was glad that ColonelAngeli had suggested this pleasant change of condition. 

Small boats took them ashore and an elevator carried them swiftly to thetop of the cliff and deposited them on the terrace of the Victoria, abeautiful inn that nestled in a garden brilliant with splendid flowersand shrubbery. Here they speedily established themselves, preparing toenjoy their first real experience of "Sunny Italy. "

CHAPTER IX

COUNT FERRALTI

At dinner it was announced that the famous Tarantella would be danced inthe lower hall of the hotel at nine o'clock, and the girls told UncleJohn that they must not miss this famous sight, which is one of the mostunique in Sorrento, or indeed in all Italy. 

As they entered the pretty, circular hall devoted to the dance Louisegave a start of surprise. A goodly audience had already assembled in theroom, and among them the girl seemed to recognize an acquaintance, forafter a brief hesitation she advanced and placed her hand in that of agentleman who had risen on her entrance and hastened toward her. 

He was a nice looking young fellow, Beth thought, and had a foreign andquite distinguished air. 

Presently Louise turned with cheeks somewhat flushed and brought thegentleman to her party, introducing him to Uncle John and her cousins asCount Ferralti, whom she had once met in New York while he was on avisit to America. 

The Count twirled his small and slender moustaches in a way that Patsythought affected, and said in excellent English:

"It delights me to meet Mr. Merrick and the young ladies. May I expressa hope that you are pleased with my beautiful country?"

"Are you Italian?" asked Uncle John, regarding the young man critically. 

"Surely, Mr. Merrick. But I have resided much in New York, and may wellclaim to be an adopted son of your great city. "

"New York adopts a good many, " said Uncle John, drily. "It has even beenthoughtless enough to adopt me. "

The dancers entered at that moment and the Americans were forced to seatthemselves hastily so as not to obstruct the view of others. CountFerralti found a place beside Louise, but seemed to have little to sayto her during the course of the entertainment. 

The dances were unique and graceful, being executed by a troup oflaughing peasants dressed in native costume, who seemed very proud oftheir accomplishment and anxious to please the throng of touristspresent. The Tarantella originated in Ischia, but Sorrento and Caprihave the best dancers. 

Afterward Uncle John and his nieces stood upon the terrace and watchedthe volcano rolling its dense clouds, mingled with sparks of red-hotscoria, toward the sky. The Count clung to Louise's side, but also triedto make himself agreeable to her cousins. In their rooms that nightPatsy told Beth that the young foreigner was "too highfalutin' to suither, " and Beth replied that his manners were so like those of theirCousin Louise that the two ought to get along nicely together. 

Uncle John liked his nieces to make friends, and encouraged young mengenerally to meet them; but there was something in the appearance ofthis callow Italian nobleman that stamped his character as artificialand insincere. He resolved to find out something about his antecedentsbefore he permitted the young fellow to establish friendly relationswith his girls. 

Next morning after breakfast he wandered through the lobby and paused atthe little office, where he discovered that the proprietor of this hotelwas a brother of that Floriano who managed the Hotel du Vesuve. Thatgave him an excuse to talk with the man, who spoke very good English andwas exceedingly courteous to his guests--especially when they wereAmerican. 

"I see you have Count Ferralti with you, " remarked Uncle John. 

"Whom, sir?"

"Ferralti--Count Ferralti. The young man standing by the window, yonder. "

"I--I did not know, " he said, hesitatingly. "The gentleman arrived lastevening, and I had not yet learned his name. Let me see, " he turned tohis list of guests, who register by card and not in a book, andcontinued: "Ah, yes; he has given his name as Ferralti, but added notitle. A count, did you say?"

"Yes, " replied Uncle John. 

The proprietor looked curiously toward the young man, whose back onlywas visible. Then he remarked that the eruption of Vesuvius was waningand the trouble nearly over for this time. 

"Are the Ferraltis a good family?" asked Uncle John, abruptly. 

"That I cannot tell you, Signor Merrick. "

"Oh. Perhaps you know little about the nobility of your country. "

"I! I know little of the nobility!" answered Floriano, indignantly. "Mydear signor, there is no man better posted as to our nobility in allItaly. "

"Yet you say you don't know the Ferralti family. "

The proprietor reached for a book that lay above his desk. 

"Observe, signor. Here is our record of nobility. It is the same as the'Blue Book' or the 'Peerage' of England. Either fortunately orunfortunately--I cannot say--you have no need of such a book inAmerica. "

He turned the pages and ran his finger down the line of "Fs. "

"Find me, if you can, a Count Ferralti in the list. "

Uncle John looked. He put on his glasses and looked again. The name ofFerralti was no place in the record. 

"Then there is no such count, Signor Floriano. "

"And no such noble family, Signor Merrick. "

Uncle John whistled softly and walked away to the window. The young mangreeted him with a smile and a bow. 

"I misunderstood your name last evening, " he said. "I thought you wereCount Ferralti. "

"And that is right, sir, " was the prompt reply. "Allow me to offer youmy card. "

Uncle John took the card and read:

 "CONTE LEONARDI FERRALTI, Milano, Italia. "

He carefully placed the card in his pocket-book. 

"Thank you, " said he. "It's a fine morning, Count. "

"Charming, Mr. Merrick. "

Uncle John walked away. He was glad that he had not suspected the youngman unjustly. When an imposture is unmasked it is no longer dangerous. 

He joined his nieces, who were all busily engaged in writing lettershome, and remarked, casually:

"You've been deceived in your Italian friend, Louise. He is neither acount nor of noble family, although I suppose when you met him in NewYork he had an object in posing as a titled aristocrat. "

The girl paused, examining the point of her pen thoughtfully. 

"Are you sure, Uncle John?"

"Quite sure, my dear. I've just been through the list of Italian counts, and his name is not there. Floriano, the proprietor, who knows everyaristocrat in Italy, has never before heard of him. "

"How singular!" exclaimed Louise. "I wonder why he has tried to deceiveus. "

"Oh, the world is full of impostors; but when you are on to their gamethey are quite harmless. Of course we won't encourage this young man inany way. It will be better to avoid him. "

"He--he seems very nice and gentlemanly, " said Louise with hesitation. 

The other girls exchanged glances, but made no remark. Uncle John hardlyknew what to say further. He felt he was in an awkward position, forLouise was the most experienced in worldly ways of his three nieces andhe had no desire to pose as a stern guardian or to deprive his girls ofany passing pleasure they might enjoy. Moreover, Louise being in lovewith that young Weldon her mother so strongly objected to, she would notbe likely to care much for this Italian fellow, and Mrs. Merrick hadenjoined him to keep her daughter's mind from dwelling on her"entanglement. "

"Oh, well, my dear, " he said to her, "you must act as you see fit. I donot imagine we shall see much of this young man, in any event, and nowthat you are well aware of the fact that he is sailing under falsecolors, you will know how to handle him better than I can advise you. "

"I shall be very careful, " said Louise slowly, as she resumed herwriting. 

"Well then, girls, what do you say to a stroll around the village?"asked their uncle. "I'm told it's a proper place to buy silk stockingsand inlaid wood-work. They come assorted, I suppose. "

Beth and Patsy jumped up with alacrity, but Louise pleaded that she hadseveral more letters to write; so the others left her and passed therest of the forenoon in rummaging among the quaint shops of Sorrento, staring at the statue of Tasso, and enjoying the street scenes sovividly opposed to those of America. It was almost their first glimpseof foreign manners and customs. In Naples they had as yet seen nothingbut darkness and falling ashes. 

CHAPTER X

THE ROAD TO AMALFI

The Hotel Victoria faces the bay of Naples. Back of it are the famousgardens, and as you emerge from these you find yourself upon the narrowmain street of Sorrento, not far from the Square of Tasso. 

As our little party entered this street they were immediately espied bythe vetturini, or cabmen, who rushed toward them with loud cries whilethey waved their whips frantically to attract attention. One tall fellowwas dressed in a most imposing uniform of blue and gold, with a high hatbearing a cockade _a la Inglese_ and shiny top boots. His long legsenabled him to outstrip the others, and in an almost breathless voice hebegged Uncle John to choose his carriage: "the besta carrozza ina town!"

"We don't want to ride, " was the answer. 

The cabman implored. Certainly they must make the Amalfi drive, or toMassa Lubrense or Saint' Agata or at least Il Deserto! The others stoodby to listen silently to the discussion, yielding first place to thevictor in the race. 

Uncle John was obdurate. 

"All we want to-day is to see the town, " he declared, "We're not goingto ride, but walk. "

"Ah, but the Amalfi road, signore! Surely you will see that. "

"To-morrow, perhaps; not now. "

"To-morrow, signore! It is good. At what hour, to-morrow, illustrissimo?"

"Oh, don't bother me. "

"We may as well drive to Amalfi to-morrow, " suggested Beth. "It is theproper thing to do, Uncle. "

"All right; we'll go, then. "

"You take my carrozza, signore?" begged the cabman. "It is besta inatown. "

"Let us see it. "

Instantly the crowd scampered back to the square, followed moreleisurely by Uncle John and the girls. There the uniformed vetturiostood beside the one modern carriage in the group. It was new; it wasglossy; it had beautiful, carefully brushed cushions; it was drawn by apair of splendid looking horses. 

"Is not bellissima, signore?" asked the man, proudly. 

"All right, " announced Uncle John, nodding approval. "Be ready to startat nine o'clock to-morrow morning. "

The man promised, whereat his confreres lost all interest in the matterand the strangers were allowed to proceed without further interruption. 

They found out all about the Amalfi drive that evening, and were gladindeed they had decided to go. Even Louise was pleased at thearrangement and as eager as the others to make the trip. It is one ofthe most famous drives in the world, along a road built upon the rockycliff that overhangs the sea and continually winds in and out as itfollows the outlines of the crags. 

They had an early breakfast and were ready at nine o'clock; but whenthey came to the gate of the garden they found only a dilapidatedcarriage standing before it. 

"Do you know where my rig is?" Uncle John asked the driver, at the sametime peering up and down the road. 

"It is me, sir signore. I am engage by you. Is it not so?"

Mr. Merrick looked at the driver carefully. It was long-legs, sureenough, but shorn of his beautiful regalia. 

"Where's your uniform?" he asked. 

"Ah, I have leave it home. The road is dusty, very; I must not ruin anice dress when I work, " answered the man, smiling unabashed. 

"But the carriage. What has become of the fine carriage and the goodhorses, sir?"

"Ah, it is dreadful; it is horrible, signore. I find me the carrozza isnot easy; it is not perfect; it do not remain good for a long ride. So Ileave him home, for I am kind. I do not wish the signorini bella to tireand weep. But see the fine vetture you now have! Is he not easy likefeathers, an' strong, an' molto buena?"

"It may be a bird, but it don't look it, " said Uncle John, doubtfully. "I rented the best looking rig in town, and you bring me the worst. "

"Only try, signore! Others may look; it is only you who must ride. Youwill be much please when we return. "

"Well, I suppose we may as well take it, " said the little man, in aresigned tone. "Hop in, my dears. "

They entered the crazy looking vehicle and found the seats ample andcomfortable despite the appearance of dilapidation everywhere prevalent. The driver mounted the box, cracked his whip, and the lean nags ambledaway at a fair pace. 

They passed near to the square, where the first thing that attractedUncle John's attention was the beautiful turnout he had hired yesterday. It was standing just as it had before, and beside it was another mandressed in the splendid uniform his driver had claimed that he had leftat home. 

"Here--stop! Stop, I say!" he yelled at the man, angrily. But the fellowseemed suddenly deaf, and paid no heed. He cracked his whip and rattledaway through the streets without a glance behind him. The girls laughedand Uncle John stopped waving his arms and settled into his seat with agroan. 

"We've been swindled, my dears, " he said; "swindled most beautifully. But I suppose we may as well make the best of it. "

"Better, " agreed Patsy. "This rig is all right, Uncle. It may not be aspretty as the other, but I expect that one is only kept to makeengagements with. When it comes to actual use, we don't get it. "

"That's true enough, " he returned. "But I'll get even with this rascalbefore I've done with him, never fear. "

It was a cold, raw morning, but the portiere at the Victoria had toldthem the sun would be out presently and the day become more genial. Indeed, the sun did come out, but only to give a discouraged look at thelandscape and retire again. During this one day in which they rode toAmalfi and back, Uncle John afterward declared that they experiencedseven different kinds of weather. They had sunshine, rain, hail, snowand a tornado; and then rain again and more sunshine. "Sunny Italy"seemed a misnomer that day, as indeed it does many days in winter andspring, when the climate is little better than that prevailing in theeastern and central portions of the United States. And perhaps onesuffers more in Italy than in America, owing to the general lack ofmeans to keep warm on cold days. The Italian, shivering and blue, willtell you it is not cold at all, for he will permit no reproach to lie onhis beloved land; but the traveller frequently becomes discouraged, andthe American contingent, especially, blames those misleading Englishwriters who, finding relief from their own bleak island in Italianclimes, exaggerated the conditions by apostrophizing the country as"Sunny Italy" and for more than a century uttered such rhapsodies in itspraise that the whole world credited them--until it acquired personalexperience of the matter. 

Italy is beautiful; it is charming and delightful; but seldom is thistrue in winter or early spring. 

The horses went along at a spanking pace that was astonishing. Theypassed through the picturesque lanes of Sorrento, climbed the furtherslope, and brought the carriage to the other side of the peninsula, where the girls obtained their first view of the Gulf of Salerno, withthe lovely Isles of the Sirens lying just beneath them. 

And now they were on the great road that skirts the coast as far asSalerno, and has no duplicate in all the known world. For it is cut fromthe solid rock of precipitous cliffs rising straight from the sea, whichthe highway overhangs at an average height of five hundred feet, thetraveller being protected only by a low stone parapet from the vast gulfthat yawns beneath. And on the other side of the road the cliffscontinue to ascend a like distance toward the sky, their irregularsurfaces dotted with wonderful houses that cling to the slopes, andvineyards that look as though they might slip down at any moment uponthe heads of timorous pilgrims. 

When it rained they put up the carriage top, which afforded but partialshelter. The shower was brief, but was shortly followed by hail as bigas peas, which threatened to dash in the frail roof of their _carrozza_. While they shrank huddled beneath the blankets, the sun came outsuddenly, and the driver shed his leathern apron, cracked his whip, andbegan singing merrily as the vehicle rolled over the smooth road. 

Our travellers breathed again, and prepared to enjoy once more thewonderful vistas that were unfolded at every turn of the winding way. Sometimes they skirted a little cove where, hundreds of feet below, thefishermen sat before their tiny huts busily mending their nets. Fromthat distance the boats drawn upon the sheltered beach seemed like meretoys. Then they would span a chasm on a narrow stone bridge, or plungethrough an arch dividing the solid mountain. But ever the road returnedin a brief space to the edge of the sea-cliff, and everywhere it wassolid as the hills themselves, and seemingly as secure. 

They had just sighted the ancient town of Positano and were circling agigantic point of rock, when the great adventure of the day overtookthem. Without warning the wind came whistling around them in a greatgale, which speedily increased in fury until it drove the blinded horsesreeling against the low parapet and pushed upon the carriage as ifdetermined to dash it over the precipice. 

As it collided against the stone wall the vehicle tipped dangerously, hurling the driver from his seat to dive headforemost into the spacebeneath. But the man clung to the reins desperately, and they arrestedhis fall, leaving him dangling at the end of them while the maddenedhorses, jerked at the bits by the weight of the man, reared and plungedas if they would in any instant tumble themselves and the carriage overthe cliff. 

At this critical moment a mounted horseman, who unobserved had beenfollowing the party, dashed to their rescue. The rider caught theplunging steeds by their heads and tried to restrain their terror, athis own eminent peril, while the carriage lay wedged against the walland the driver screamed pitifully from his dangerous position midwaybetween sea and sky. 

Then Beth slipped from her seat to the flat top of the parapet, steppedboldly to where the reins were pulling upon the terrified horses, andseized them in her strong grasp. 

"Hold fast, " she called calmly to the driver, and began dragging himupward, inch by inch. 

He understood instantly the task she had undertaken, and in a moment hiscourage returned and he managed to get his foot in a crack of the rockand assist her by relieving her of part of his weight. Just above was aslight ledge; he could reach it now; and then she had him by the arm, sothat another instant found him clinging to the parapet and drawinghimself into a position of safety. 

The wind had died away as suddenly as it came upon them. The horses, assoon as the strain upon their bits was relaxed, were easily quieted. Before those in the carriage had quite realized what had occurred theadventure was accomplished, the peril was past, and all was well again. 

Uncle John leaped from the carriage, followed by Louise and Patsy. Theyoung horseman who had come to their assistance so opportunely was noneother than Count Ferralti, whom they had such good reason to distrust. He was sitting upon his horse and staring with amazement at Beth, atwhose feet the driver was grovelling while tears flowed down his bronzedcheeks and he protested in an absurd mixture of English and Italian, byevery saint in the calendar, that the girl had saved him from afrightful death and he would devote his future life to her service. 

"It is wonderful!" murmured Ferralti. "However could such a slip of agirl do so great a deed?"

"Why, it's nothing at all, " returned Beth, flushing; "we're trained todo such things in the gymnasium at Cloverton, and I'm much stronger thanI appear to be. "

"'Twas her head, mostly, " said Patsy, giving her cousin an admiring hug;"she kept her wits while the rest of us were scared to death. "

Uncle John had been observing the Count. One of the young man's handshung 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 werefrantic at the time and wrenched my wrist viciously as I tried to holdthem. I felt something snap; a small bone, perhaps. But I am sure it isnothing of moment. "

"We'd better get back to Sorrento, " said Uncle John, abruptly. 

"Not on my account, I beg of you, " returned Ferralti, quickly. "We arehalf way to Amalfi now, and you may as well go on. For my part, if thewrist troubles me, I will see a surgeon at Amalfi--that is, if youpermit me to accompany you. "

He said this with a defferent bow and a glance of inquiry. 

Uncle John could not well refuse. The young fellow might be a shamcount, but the manliness and courage he had displayed in their graveemergency surely entitled him to their grateful consideration. 

"You are quite welcome to join us, " said Uncle John. 

The driver had by now repaired a broken strap and found his equippageotherwise uninjured. 

The horses stood meekly quiescent, as if they had never known a moment'sfear in their lives. So the girls and their uncle climbed into thevehicle again and the driver mounted the box and cracked his whip withhis usual vigor. 

The wind had subsided as suddenly as it had arisen, and as they passedthrough Positano--which is four hundred feet high, the houses all up anddown the side of a cliff like swallows' nests--big flakes of snow weregently falling around them. 

Count Ferralti rode at the side of the carriage but did not attempt muchconversation. His lips were tight set and the girls, slyly observing hisface, were sure his wrist was hurting him much more than he cared toacknowledge. 

Circling around the cliff beyond Positano the sun greeted them, shiningfrom out a blue sky, and they wondered what had become of the badweather they had so lately experienced. 

From now on, past Prajano and into Amalfi, the day was brilliant and thetemperature delightful. It was full noon by the time they alighted atthe little gate-house of the ancient Cappuccini-Convento, now a hotelmuch favored by the tourist. Count Ferralti promised to join them laterand rode on to the town to find a surgeon to look after his injuredhand, while the others slowly mounted the long inclines leading in azigzag fashion up to the old monastery, which was founded in the year1212. 

From the arbored veranda of this charming retreat is obtained one of thefinest views in Europe, and while the girls sat enjoying it Uncle Johnarranged with a pleasant faced woman (who had once lived in America) fortheir luncheon. 

An hour later, and just as they were sitting down to the meal, CountFerralti rejoined them. His hand was bandaged and supported by a sling, and in answer to Louise's gentle inquiries he said, simply:

"It was as I had feared: a small bone snapped. But my surgeon isskillful, and says time will mend the wrist as good as new. "

In spite of his courage he could eat no luncheon, but merely sipped aglass of wine; so Uncle John, alarmed at his pallor, insisted that hetake a seat in the carriage on the return journey. Beth wanted to ridethe Count's horse home, but there was no side saddle to be had, so theyled the animal by a halter fastened behind the ricketty carriage, andBeth mounted the box and rode beside her friend the driver. 

The pleasant weather lasted until they neared Sorrento, when anothershower of rain came up. They reached their hotel damp and bedraggled, but enthusiastic over their wonderful trip and the interesting adventureit had incidentally developed. 

CHAPTER XI

THE EAGLE SCREAMS

Despite the glories of the Amalfi road our tourists decided it was morepleasant to loiter around Sorrento for a time than to undertake furtherexcursions. The mornings and evenings were chill, but during the middleof the day the air was warm and delicious; so the girls carried theirbooks and fancy-work into the beautiful gardens or wandered lazilythrough the high-walled lanes that shut in the villas and orange groves. Sometimes they found a gate open, and were welcomed to the orchards andpermitted to pluck freely the fragrant and rich flavored fruit, which isexcelled in no other section of the south country. Also Uncle John, withBeth and Patsy, frequented the shops of the wood-workers and watchedtheir delicate and busy fingers inlaying the various colored woods; butLouise mostly kept to the garden, where Count Ferralti, being asemi-invalid, was content to sit by her side and amuse her. 

In spite of her uncle's discovery of the false position assumed by thisyoung man, Louise seemed to like his attentions and to approve hisevident admiration for her. His ways might be affected and effeminateand his conversational powers indifferent; but his bandaged wrist was aconstant reminder to all the nieces that he possessed courage and readywit, and it was but natural that he became more interesting to thembecause just now he was to an extent helpless, and his crippled hand hadbeen acquired in their service. 

Uncle John watched the young fellow shrewdly, but could discover littleharm in him except his attempt to deceive them in regard to his name andposition. Yet in his mature eyes there was not much about Ferralti toarouse admiration, and the little man considered his girls too sensibleto be greatly impressed by this youthful Italian's personality. So heallowed him to sit with his nieces in the gardens as much as hepleased, believing it would be ungrateful to deprive the count of thatharmless recreation. 

"A reg'lar chaperone might think differently, " he reflected; "but thankgoodness there are no dragons swimming in our cup of happiness. "

One day they devoted to Capri and the Blue Grotto, and afterward theylunched at the Quisisana and passed the afternoon in the town. But thecharms of Sorrento were too great for Capri to win their allegiance, andthey were glad to get back to their quaint town and delightful gardensagain. 

The week passed all too swiftly, and then came a letter from ColonelAngeli telling them to return to Naples and witness the results of theeruption. This they decided to do, and bidding good-bye to SignorFloriano and his excellent hotel they steamed across the bay and foundthe "Vesuve" a vastly different hostelry from the dismal place they hadleft in their flight from Naples. It was now teeming with life, for, alldanger being past, the tourists had flocked to the city in droves. Thetown was still covered with ashes, but under the brilliant sunshine itdid not look as gloomy as one might imagine, and already thousands ofcarts were busily gathering the dust from the streets and dumping it inthe waters of the bay. It would require months of hard work, though, before Naples could regain a semblance of its former beauty. 

Their friend the Colonel personally accompanied them to the towns thathad suffered the most from the eruption. At Boscatrecasa they walkedover the great beds of lava that had demolished the town--banks ofcinders looking like lumps of pumice stone and massed from twenty tothirty feet in thickness throughout the valley. The lava was still sohot that it was liable to blister the soles of their feet unless theykept constantly moving. It would be many more days before the interiorof the mass became cold. 

Through the forlorn, dust-covered vineyards they drove to San Guiseppe, where a church roof had fallen in and killed one hundred and fortypeople, maiming many more. The Red-Cross tents were pitched in thestreets and the whole town was one vast hospital. Ottajano, a littlenearer to the volcano, had been buried in scoria, and nine-tenths ofthe roofs had fallen in, rendering the dwellings untenable. 

From here a clear view of Mt. Vesuvius could be obtained. The shape ofthe mountain had greatly altered and the cone had lost sixty-five feetof its altitude. But when one gazed upon the enormous bulk of volcanicdeposit that littered the country for miles around, it seemed to equal adozen mountains the size of Vesuvius. The marvel was that so much ashesand cinders could come from a single crater in so short a period. 

Naples was cleaning house, but slowly and listlessly. The people seemedas cheerful and light-hearted as ever. The volcano was one of theircrosses, and they bore it patiently. The theatres would remain closedfor some weeks to come, but the great Museo Nationale was open, andUncle John and his nieces were much interested in the bronze and marblestatuary that here form the greatest single collection in all the world. 

It was at the Museum that Mr. Merrick was arrested for the first timein his life, an experience he never afterward forgot. 

Bad money is so common in Naples that Uncle John never accepted anychange from anyone, but obtained all his silver coins and notes directlyfrom the Banca Commerciale Italiana, a government institution. Onemorning he drove with the girls to the museum and paid the cabman alira, but before he could ascend the steps the man was after him andholding out a leaden coin, claiming that his fare had given him badmoney and must exchange it for good. This is so common a method ofswindling that Uncle John paid no heed to the demands of the cabmanuntil one of the Guard Municipale, in his uniform of dark blue withyellow buttons and cap, placed a restraining hand upon the American'sshoulder. 

Uncle John angrily shook him off, but the man persisted, and aninterpreter employed by the museum stepped forward and explained thatunless the cabman was given a good coin in exchange for the bad one theguarde would be obliged to take him before a commissionaire, ormagistrate. 

"But I gave him a good coin--a lira direct from the bank, " declaredUncle John. 

"He exhibits a bad one, " returned the interpreter, calmly. 

"He's a swindler!"

"He is a citizen of Naples, and entitled to a just payment, " said theother, shrugging his shoulders. 

"You are all leagued together, " said Uncle John, indignantly. "But youwill get no more money out of me, I promise you. "

The result was that the stubborn American was placed under arrest. Leaving the girls at the museum in charge of Ferralti, who had made noattempt to interfere in the dispute but implored Uncle John to pay andavoid trouble, the angry prisoner was placed in the same cab he hadarrived in and, with the officer seated beside him, was publicly drivento the office of the magistrate. 

This official understood no English, but he glowered and frownedfiercely when the American was brought before him. The guarde and thecabman stood with bared bowed heads and in low tones preferred thecharge against the prisoner; but Uncle John swaggered up to the desk andpounded his clinched fist upon it while he roared a defiance of Italianinjustice and threatened to "bring over a few war-ships and blow Naplesinto kingdom come!"

The magistrate was startled, and ordered the prisoner searched forconcealed weapons. Uncle John doubled his fists and dared the guarde totouch him. 

Then the cabman was dispatched for someone who could speak English, andwhen an interpreter arrived the American told him to send for the UnitedStates consul and also to inform the magistrate that nothing but warbetween America and Italy could wipe out the affront that had beenthrust upon him. 

The magistrate was disturbed, and preferred not to send for the consul. He offered to release Uncle John if he would give the cabman a good lirain exchange for the bad one. The official fee would be five lira--or saythree lira--or even two. Uncle John flatly refused to pay anything toanybody. Only war could settle this international complication--bloodyand bitter war. The consul must cable at once for war-ships and troops. He would insist upon it. All compromise was now impossible!

The magistrate was frightened. The guarde's eyes bulged with horror andhe trembled visibly. It was evident they had made a grave mistake inarresting this mad American, who was evidently a personage of greatimportance and able to declare war at a moment's notice. The cabman, themagistrate, the guarde and the interpreter put their heads together andchattered voluble Italian--all speaking at once in excited tones--whileUncle John continued to warn them at the top of his lungs that theircountry was doomed to sudden annihilation and they were the culpritsresponsible for the coming calamity. 

As a result they bundled the irate American into the carriage again anddrove him poste haste back to the museum, where they deposited him uponthe steps. Then in a flash the guarde and the cabman disappeared fromsight and were seen no more. 

The victor smiled proudly as his nieces rushed toward him. 

"Did you have to pay another lira, Uncle?" asked Patsy, anxiously. 

"Not on your life, my dear, " mopping his brow vigorously. "They're a lotof cutthroats and assassins--policemen, magistrates and all--but whenthe eagle screams they're wise enough to duck. "

The girls laughed. 

"And did the eagle scream, then?" Patsy enquired. 

"Just a little, my dear; but if it whispered it would sound mighty loudin this mummified old world. But we've lost enough time for one day. Come; let's go see 'Narcissus' and the 'Dancing Faun. '"

CHAPTER XII

MOVING ON

"Here's a letter from my dear old friend Silas Watson, " said Uncle John, delightedly. "It's from Palermo, where he has been staying with hisward--and your friend, girls--Kenneth Forbes, and he wants me to lug youall over to Sicily at once. "

"That's jolly, " said Patsy, with a bright smile. "I'd like to seeKenneth again. "

"I suppose he is a great artist, by this time, " said Beth, musingly. 

"How singular!" exclaimed Louise. "Count Ferralti told me only thismorning that he had decided to go to Palermo. "

"Really?" said Uncle John. 

"Yes, Uncle. Isn't it a coincidence?"

"Why, as for that, " he answered, slowly, "I'm afraid it will prevent ourseeing the dear count--or whatever he is--again, at least for sometime. For Mr. Watson and Kenneth are just leaving Palermo, and he asksus to meet him in another place altogether, a town called--called--letme see; Tormenti, or Terminal, or something. "

"Give me the letter, dear, " said Patsy. "I don't believe it's Terminalat all. Of course not, " consulting the pages, "it's Taormina. "

"Is that in Sicily?" he asked. 

"Yes. Listen to what Mr. Watson says: 'I'm told it is the most beautifulspot in the world, which is the same thing you hear about most beautifulplaces. It is eight hundred feet above the Mediterranean and nestlespeacefully in the shadow of Mount Etna. '"

"Etna!" cried Uncle John, with a start. "Isn't that another volcano?"

"To be sure, " said Beth, the geographer. "Etna is the biggest volcano inthe world. "

"Does it spout?" he asked, anxiously. 

"All the time, they say. But it is not usually dangerous. "

"The proper thing, when you go to Eu-rope, " declared Uncle John, positively, "is to do Venice, where the turpentine comes from, andSwitzerland, where they make chocolate and goat's milk, and Paris andMonte Carlo, where they kick high and melt pearls in champagne. Everybody knows that. That's what goin' to Eu-rope really means. ButSicily isn't on the programme, that I ever heard of. So we'll just tellSilas Watson that we'll see him later--which means when we get homeagain. "

"But Sicily is beautiful, " protested Patsy. "I'd as soon go there asanywhere. "

"It's a very romantic place, " added Louise, reflectively. 

"Everybody goes to France and Switzerland, " remarked Beth. "But it'sbecause they don't know any better. Let's be original, Uncle, and keepout of the beaten track of travel. "

"But the volcano!" exclaimed Mr. Merrick. "Is it necessary to stick tovolcanoes to be original?"

"Etna won't hurt us, I'm sure, " said Patsy. 

"Isn't there a Greek theatre at Taormina?" asked Louise. 

"I've never heard of it; but I suppose the Greeks have, if it's there, "he replied. "But why not wait till we get home, and then go to Kieth'sor Hammerstein's?"

"You don't understand, dear. This theatre is very ancient. "

"Playing minstrel shows in it yet, I suppose. Well, girls, if you saySicily, Sicily it is. All I'm after is to give you a good time, and ifyou get the volcano habit it isn't my fault. "

"It is possible the Count said Taormina, instead of Palermo, " remarkedLouise, plaintively. "I wasn't paying much attention at the time. I'llask him. "

The others ignored this suggestion. Said Patsy to her uncle:

"When do we go, sir?"

"Whenever you like, my dears. "

"Then I vote to move on at once, " decided the girl. "We've got the bestout of Naples, and it's pretty grimey here yet. "

The other nieces agreed with her, so Uncle John went out to enquire thebest way to get to Sicily, and to make their arrangements. 

The steamer "Victor Emmanuel" of the Navigazione General Italiana linewas due to leave Naples for Messina the next evening, arriving at itsdestination the following morning. Uncle John promptly booked places. The intervening day was spent in packing and preparing for the journey, and like all travellers the girls were full of eager excitement at theprospect of seeing something new. 

"I'm told Sicily is an island, " grumbled Uncle John. "Here we are, on atrip to Eu-rope, and emigrating to an island the first thing we do. "

"Sicily is Europe, all right, Uncle, " answered Patsy. "At least, itisn't Asia or Africa. "

That assertion seemed to console him a little, and he grew cheerfulagain. 

The evening was beautiful as they embarked, but soon after leaving thebay the little, tub-shaped steamer began to tumble and toss vigorously, so that all the passengers aboard speedily sought their berths. 

Uncle John found himself in a stuffy little cabin that smelled of tarand various other flavors that were too mixed to be recognizable. As aresult he passed one of the most miserable nights of his life. 

Toward morning he rolled out and dressed himself, preferring the deck tohis bed, and the first breath of salt air did much to restore him. Daywas just breaking, and to the right he could see a tongue of fireflaming against the dark sky. 

"What is that, sir?" he enquired of an officer who passed. 

"That is Stromboli, signor, the great volcano of Lipari. It is always ineruption. "

Uncle John groaned. 

"Volcanoes to right of us, volcanoes to left of us volleyed andthundered, " he muttered dismally, as he fell back in his chair. 

The sky brightened, and the breath of the breeze changed and came to himladen with delicious fragrance. 

"See, signore!" called the officer, passing again; "before us is mightyEtna--you can see it clearly from the bow. "

"Volcanoes in front of us, volcanoes behind us!" wailed the little man. But he walked to the bow and saw the shores of Sicily looming inadvance, with the outline of the stately mountain rising above anddominating it. 

Then the sun burst forth, flooding all with a golden radiance that wasmagical in its gorgeous effects. Patsy came on deck and stood beside heruncle, lost in rapturous admiration. Beth soon followed her. 

Before long they entered the Straits of Messina and passed between theclassic rock of Scylla on the Calabrian coast, and the whirlpool ofCharybdis at the point of the promontory of Faro, which forms the end ofthe famous "Golden Sickle" enclosing the Bay of Messina. 

"If this is really Eu-rope, I'm glad we came, " said Uncle John, drawinga long breath as the ship came to anchor opposite the PalazzoMunicipale. "I don't remember seeing anything prettier since we left NewYork. "

Presently they had loaded their trunks and hand baggage, andincidentally themselves, into the boat of the Hotel Trinacria which camealongside in charge of a sleepy porter. After a brief examination at thecustom-house, where Uncle John denied having either sugar, tobacco orperfumery, they followed on foot the truck laden with their worldlypossessions, and soon reached the hotel. 

A pleasant breakfast followed, which they ate before a windowoverlooking the busy marina, and then they drove about the town for atime to see in a casual way the "sights. " In the afternoon they took thetrain for Taormina. Messina seemed a delightful place, but if they weregoing to settle in Taormina for a time it would not pay them to unpackor linger on the way. 

So they rolled along the coast for a couple of hours in a quaint, old-fashioned railway carriage, and were then deposited upon theplatform of the little station at Giardini. 

"I'm afraid there has been a mistake, " said the little man, gazingaround him anxiously. "There's no town here, and I told the guard to putus off at Taormina--not this forlorn place. "

Just then Beth discovered a line of carriages drawn up back of thestation. The drivers were mostly asleep inside them, although severalstood in a group arguing in fluent Italian the grave question as towhether Signora Gani's cow had a black patch over its left shoulder, ornot. 

Some of the carriages bore signs: "Hotel Timeo;" "Grand Hotel SanDomenico;" "Hotel Castello-a-Mare;" "Grand Hotel Metropole, " and soforth. In that of the Castello-a-Mare the man was awakening and rubbinghis eyes. Uncle John said to him:

"Good morning. Had a nice rest?"

"I thank you, signore, I am well refreshed, " was the reply. 

"By the way, can you tell us where the town of Taormina is? I hate totrouble you; but we'd like to know. "

The man waved an arm upward, and following the motion with their eyesthey saw a line of precipitous cliffs that seemed impossible to scale. 

"Do you desire to go to the Grand Hotel Castello-a-Mare?" enquired thedriver, politely. 

"Is it in Taormina?"

"Most certainly, signore. "

"And you will take us?"

"With pleasure, signore. "

"Oh; I didn't know. I supposed you were going to sleep again. "

The man looked at him reproachfully. 

"It is my business, signore. I am very attentive to my duties. If youpermit me to drive you to our splendide--our magnifico hotel--you willconfer a favor. "

"How about the baggage?"

"The trunks, signor, we will send for later. There is really no hurryabout them. The small baggage will accompany us. You will remark howexcellent is my English. I am Frascatti Vietri; perhaps you have heardof me in America?"

"If I have it has escaped my memory, " said Uncle John, gravely. 

"Have you been to America?" asked Beth. 

"Surely, signorina. I lived in Chicago, which, as you are aware, isAmerica. My uncle had a fruit shop in South Water, a via which isChicago. Is it not so? You will find few in Taormina who can the Englishspeak, and none at all who can so perfectly speak it as FrascattiVietri. "

"You are wonderful, " said Patsy, delighted with him. But Uncle Johngrew impatient to be off. 

"I hate to interrupt you, Mr. Vietri, " he hinted; "but if you can sparethe time we may as well make a start. "

The driver consented. He gracefully swung the suit-cases and travellingbags to the top of the vehicle and held the door open while his faresentered. Then he mounted to his seat, took the reins, and spoke to thehorses. Some of the other drivers nodded at him cheerfully, but more asif they were sorry he must exert himself than with any resentment at hissuccess in getting the only tourists who had alighted from the train. 

As they moved away Uncle John said: "Observe the difference between thecab-drivers here and those at home. In America they fight like beasts toget a job; here they seem anxious to avoid earning an honest penny. Ifthere could be a happy medium somewhere, I'd like it. "

"Are we going to the best hotel?" asked Louise, who had seemed a trifledisconsolate because she had not seen Count Ferralti since leavingNaples. 

"I don't know, my dear. It wasn't a question of choice, but ofnecessity. No other hotel seemed willing to receive us. "

They were now winding upward over a wonderful road cut in the solidrock. It was broad and smooth and protected by a parapet of dressedlimestone. Now and then they passed pleasant villas set in orchards ofgolden oranges or groves of olives and almonds; but there was no sign oflife on any side. 

The road was zigzag, making a long ascent across the face of the cape, then turning abruptly to wind back again, but always creeping upwarduntil an open space showed the station far below and a rambling stonebuilding at the edge of the cliff far above. 

"Behold!" cried Frascatti, pointing up, "the Grand HotelCastello-a-Mare; is it not the excellenza location?"

"Has it a roof?" asked Uncle John, critically. 

"Of a certainty, signore! But it does not show from below, " was thegrave reply. 

At times Frascatti stopped his horses to allow them to rest, and then hewould turn in his seat to address his passengers in the open victoriaand descant upon the beauties of the panorama each turn unfolded. 

"This road is new, " said he, "because we are very progressive and theold road was most difficulty. Then it was three hours from the bottom tothe top. Now it is but a short hour, for our energy climbs the threemiles in that brief time. Shall I stop here for the sunset, or will yourexcellenzi hasten on?"

"If your energy approves, we will hasten, " returned Uncle John. "We lovea sunset, because it's bound to set anyway, and we may as well make thebest of it; but we have likewise an objection to being out after dark. Any brigands around here?"

"Brigands! Ah; the signor is merry. Never, since the days of Naxos, havebrigands infested our fair country. "

"When were the days of Naxos?"

"Some centuries before Christ, signor, " bowing his head and making thesign of the cross. 

"Very good. The brigands of those days must, of course, be dead by thistime. Now, sir, when you have leisure, let us hasten. "

The horses started and crept slowly upward again. None of the party wasin a hurry. Such beautiful glimpses of scenery were constantly visiblefrom the bends of the road that the girls were enraptured, and couldhave ridden for hours in this glorious fairyland. 

But suddenly the horses broke into a trot and dragged the carriagerapidly forward over the last incline. A moment later they dashed intothe court of the hotel and the driver with a loud cry of "Oo-ah!" and acrack of his whip drew up before the entrance. 

The portiere and the padrone, or landlord--the latter being also theproprietaire--came out to greet them, extending to their guests acourteous welcome. The house was very full. All of the cheaper roomswere taken; but of course the Signor Americain would wish only the bestand be glad to pay. 

Uncle John requested them to rob him as modestly as possible withoutconflicting with their sense of duty, and they assured him they would doso. 

The rooms were adorable. They faced the sea and had little balconiesthat gave one a view of the blue Mediterranean far beneath, with lovelyIsola Bella and the Capo San Andrea nestling on its bosom. To the righttowered the majestic peak of Etna, its crest just now golden red in thedying sunset. 

The girls drew in deep breaths and stood silent in a very ecstacy ofdelight. At their feet was a terraced garden, running downward twohundred feet to where the crag fell sheer to the sea. It was gloriouswith blooming flowers of every sort that grows, and the people on thebalconies imagined at the moment they had been transferred to an earthlyparadise too fair and sweet for ordinary mortals. And then the glow ofthe sun faded softly and twilight took its place. Far down the windingroad could be seen the train of carriages returning from the station, the vetturini singing their native songs as the horses slowly ascendedthe slope. An unseen organ somewhere in the distance ground out aNeapolitan folk song, and fresh and youthful voices sang a clear, hightoned accompaniment. 

Even practical Uncle John stood absorbed and admiring until the softvoice of the facchino called to ask if he wanted hot water in which tobathe before dinner. 

"It's no use, " said Patsy, smiling at him from the next balcony withtears in her eyes; "There's not another Taormina on earth. Here we are, and here we stay until we have to go home again. "

"But, my dear, think of Paris, of Venice, of--"

"I'll think of nothing but this, Uncle John. Unless you settle down withus here I'll turn milkmaid and live all my days in Sicily!"

Beth laughed, and drew her into their room. 

"Don't be silly, Patsy dear, " she said, calmly, although almost asgreatly affected as her cousin. "There are no cows here, so you can't bea milkmaid. "

"Can't I milk the goats, then?"

"Why, the men seem to do that, dear. But cheer up. We've only seen theromance of Taormina yet; doubtless it will be commonplace enoughto-morrow. "

CHAPTER XIII

IL DUCA

Beth's prediction, however, did not come true. The morning discoverednothing commonplace about Taormina. Their hotel was outside the walls, but a brief walk took them to the Messina Gate, a quaint archway throughwhich they passed into the narrow streets of one of the oldest towns inSicily. Doorways and windows of Saracen or Norman construction facedthem on every side, and every inch of the ancient buildings waspicturesque and charming. 

Some of the houses had been turned into shops, mostly for the sale ofcurios. Uncle John and his nieces had scarcely passed a hundred yardsinto the town when one of these shops arrested their attention. It wasfull of antique jewelry, antique furniture, antique laces and antiquepottery--all of the most fascinating description. The jewelry wastarnished and broken, the lace had holes in it and the furniture wasdecrepit and unsteady; but the proprietor cared nothing for suchdefects. All was very old, and he knew the tourist was eager to buy. Sohe scattered his wares inside and outside his salesroom, much as thespider spreads his web for the unwary, and waited for the inevitabletourist with a desire to acquire something ancient and useless. 

The girls could not be induced to pass the shop. They entered thesquare, low room and flooded the shopman with eager questions. Notwithstanding Frascatti's assertion that few in Taormina could speakEnglish, this man was quite intelligible and fixed his prices accordingto the impression his wares made upon the artistic sense of the youngAmerican ladies. 

It was while they were intently inspecting some laces that theproprietor suddenly paused in his chatter, removed his hat and bowedalmost to the floor, his face assuming at the same time a serious andmost humble expression. 

Turning around they saw standing outside the door a man whom theyrecognized at once as their fellow passenger aboard the "PrincessIrene. "

"Oh, Signor Valdi!" cried Patsy, running toward him, "how strange tofind you again in this out-of-the-way place. "

The Italian frowned, but in a dignified manner took the hand of allthree girls in turn and then bowed a greeting to Mr. Merrick. 

Uncle John thought the fellow had improved in appearance. Instead of theflannel shirt and Prince Albert coat he had affected on shipboard he nowwore a native costume of faded velvet, while a cloak of thin butvoluminous cloth swung from his shoulders, and a soft felt hat shadedhis dark eyes. 

His appearance was entirely in keeping with the place, and the Americannoticed that the villagers who passed doffed their hats mostrespectfully to this seemingly well-known individual. But mingled withtheir polite deference was a shyness half fearful, and none stopped tospeak but hurried silently on. 

"And how do we happen to find you here, Signor Valdi?" Patsy wassaying. "Do you live in Taormina?"

"I am of this district, but not of Taormina, " he replied. "It is chancethat you see me here. Eh, Signor Bruggi, is it not so?" casting one ofhis characteristic fierce glances at the shopkeeper. 

"It is so, your excellency. "

"But I am glad you have come to the shadow of Etna, " he continued, addressing the Americans with slow deliberation. "Here the grandeur ofthe 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 arecoming down from Palermo, but must have been delayed somewhere on theway. "

"Who are they?" asked Valdi, brusquely. 

"Americans, of course; Silas Watson and Kenneth Forbes. Do you know ofthem?"

"No, " said the other. He cast an uneasy glance up and down the street. "I will meet you again, signorini, " he added. "Which is your hotel?"

"The Castello-a-Mare. It is delightful, " said Beth. 

He nodded, as if pleased. Then, folding his cloak about him, he murmured"adios!" and stalked away without another word or look. 

"Queer fellow, " remarked Uncle John. 

The shopkeeper drew a long breath and seemed relieved. 

"Il Duca is unusual, signore, " he replied. 

"Duke!" cried the girls, in one voice. 

The man seemed startled. 

"I--I thought you knew him; you seemed friends, " he stammered. 

"We met Signor Valdi on shipboard, " said Uncle John. 

"Valdi? Ah, yes; of course; the duke has been to America. "

"Isn't his name Valdi?" asked Beth, looking the man straight in theeyes. "Has he another name here, where he lives?"

The shopman hesitated. 

"Who knows?" was the evasive reply. "Il Duca has many names, but we donot speak them. When it is necessary to mention him we use histitle--the duke. "

"Why?" asked the girl. 

"Why, signorina? Why? Perhaps because he does not like to be talkedabout. Yes; that is it, I am sure. "

"Where does he live?" asked Patsy. 

The man seemed uneasy under so much questioning. 

"Somewhere in the mountains, " he said, briefly. "His estates are there. He is said to be very rich and powerful. I know nothing more, signorini. "

Realizing that little additional information could be gleaned from thissource they soon left the shop and wandered into the Piazzo VittorioEmanuele, and from thence by the narrow lane to the famous Teatro Greco. 

For a time they admired this fascinating ruin, which has the bestpreserved stage of any Greek theatre now in existence. From the top ofthe hill is one of the most magnificent views in Sicily, and here ourtravellers sat in contemplative awe until Uncle John declared it wastime to return to their hotel for luncheon. 

As they passed the portiere's desk Mr. Merrick paused to ask thatimportant official:

"Tell me, if you please, who is Signor Victor Valdi?"

"Valdi, signore?"

"Yes; the Duke di Valdi, I suppose you call him. "

"I have never heard of him, " replied the man. 

"But every one seems to know him in Taormina. "

"Is it so? We have but one duke near to us, and he--. But never mind. Ido not know this Valdi. "

"A thin faced man, with black eyes. We met him on the steamer comingfrom America. "

The portiere dropped his eyes and turned toward his desk. 

"Luncheon is served, signore, " he remarked. "Also, here is a letter foryou, 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 hisacquaintance. We may as well follow suit, and avoid him. "

"I don't like his looks a bit, " observed Beth. "He seems afraid anddefiant at the same time, and his temper is dreadful. It was only withgreat difficulty he could bring himself to be polite to us. "

"Oh, I always got along with him all right, " said Patsy. "I'm sureSignor Valdi isn't as bad as he appears. And he's a duke, too, girls--areal duke!"

"So it seems, " Uncle John rejoined; "yet there is something queer aboutthe fellow, I agree with Beth; I don't like him. "

"Did Mr. Watson say when he would join us here?" enquired Louise, whenthey were seated at the little round table. 

"No; but here's a letter from him. I'd quite forgotten it. "

He tore open the envelope and carefully read the enclosure. 

"Too bad, " said he. "We might have stayed a few days in Messina. Watsonsays he and Kenneth have stopped at Girgenti--wherever that is--to studythe temples. Wonder if they're Solomon's? They won't get to Taorminabefore Saturday. "

"It won't matter, " declared Patsy, "so long as they arrive then. And I'da good deal rather be here than in Messina, or any other place. Ofcourse we'll all be glad to see Kenneth. "

"Mr. Watson wants us to be very careful while we are in Sicily, "continued Uncle John, referring to the letter. "Listen to this: 'Don'tlet the girls wear jewelry in public places, or display their watchesopenly; and take care, all of you, not to show much money. If you buyanything, have it sent to your hotel to be paid for by the hall porter. And it is wise not to let anyone know who you are or how long you intendto remain in any one place. This may strike you as an absurd precaution;but you must remember that you are not in America, but in an isolatedItalian province, where government control is inefficient. The truth isthat the terrible Mafia is still all powerful on this island, andbrigandage is by no means confined to the neighborhood ofCastrogiovanni, as the guide books would have you believe. The peopleseem simple and harmless enough, but Kenneth and I always keep ourrevolvers handy, and believe it is a reasonable precaution. I don't wantto frighten you, John; merely to warn you. Sicily is full of tourists, and few are ever molested; but if you are aware of the conditionsunderlying the public serenity you are not so liable to run yourself andyour nieces into needless dangers. ' How's that for a hair-curler, girls?"

"It sounds very romantic, " said Louise, smiling. "Mr. Watson is such acautious man!"

"But it's all rubbish about there being danger in Taormina, " declaredPatsy, indignantly. "Mr. Watson has been in the wilds of the interior, which Baedecker admits is infested with brigands. Here everyone smilesat us in the friendliest way possible. "

"Except the duke, " added Beth, with a laugh. 

"Oh, the duke is sour by nature, " Patsy answered; "but if there reallywas danger, I'm sure he'd protect us, for he lives here and knows thecountry. "

"You are sure of a lot of things, dear, " said her cousin, smiling. "Butit will do no harm to heed the advice, and be careful. "

They all agreed to that, and Uncle John was glad to remember he had twobrand new revolvers in the bottom of his trunk, which he could use in anemergency if he could manage to find the cartridges to load them with. 

He got them out next morning, and warned his nieces not to touch thedangerous things when they entered his room. But Patsy laughed at him, saying:

"You are behind the times, Uncle. Beth has carried a revolver ever sincewe started. "

"Beth!" he cried, horrified. 

"Just as a precaution, " said that young lady, demurely. 

"But you're only a child!"

"Even so, Uncle, I have been taught to shoot in Cloverton, as a part ofmy education. Once I won a medal--think of that! So I brought my petrevolver along, although I may never have need to use it. "

Uncle John looked thoughtful. 

"It doesn't seem like a girlish accomplishment, exactly, " he mused. "When I was young and went into the West, the times were a bitunsettled, and I used to carry a popgun myself. But I never shot at ahuman being in my life. There were women in the camps that could shoot, too; but the safest place was always in front of them. If Beth has won amedal, though, she might hit something. "

"Don't try, Beth, " said Louise; "you ought to make a hit withoutshooting. "

"Thank you, dear. "

As they left their hotel for a walk they came upon Count Ferralti, whowas standing in the court calmly smoking a cigarette. His right hand wasstill in a sling. 

No one was greatly surprised at his appearance, but Uncle John utteredan exclamation of impatience. It annoyed him that this fellow, whoseantecedents were decidedly cloudy, should be "chasing around" after oneof his nieces, Beth and Patsy smiled at each other significantly as theyoung man was discovered, but Louise, with a slight blush, advanced togreet Ferralti in her usual pleasant and cordial way. 

There was no use resenting the intrusion. They owed a certainconsideration to this boyish Italian for his assistance on the Amalfiroad. But Uncle John almost wished he had left them to escape as bestthey might, for the obligation was getting to be decidedly onerous. 

While Ferralti was expressing his astonishment at so "unexpectedly"meeting again his American friends, Uncle John discovered their Englishspeaking cocchiere, Frascatti Vietri, lolling half asleep on the box ofhis victoria. 

"Would your energy like to drive us this morning?" he asked. 

"It is my duty, signore, if you wish to go, " was the reply. 

"Then you are engaged. Come, girls; hop in, if you want to ride. "

The three nieces and Uncle John just filled the victoria. The count wasdisconsolate at being so cleverly dropped from the party, but couldonly flourish his hat and wish them a pleasant drive. 

They descended the winding road to the coast, where Frascatti took thehighway to Sant' Alessio, a charming drive leading to the Taormina Pass. 

"By the way, " Uncle John asked the driver, "do you know of a duke thatlives in this neighborhood?"

The laughing face of the Sicilian suddenly turned grave. 

"No, signore. There is the Prince di Scaletta; but no duke on this sidethe town. "

"But on the other side?"

"Oh; in the mountains? To be sure there are noblemen there; old estatesalmost forgotten in our great civilization of to-day. We are veryprogressive in Taormina, signore. There will be a fountain of the icecream soda established next summer. Quite metropolitan, _ne c'e_?"

"Quite. But, tell me, Frascatti, have you a duke in the mountains backof Taormina?"

"Signore, I beg you to pay no attention to the foolish stories you mayhear from our peasants. There has been no brigandage here forcenturies. I assure you the country is perfectionly safe--especial ifyou stay within the town or take me on your drives. They know me, signore, and even Il Duca dares not trifle with my friends. "

"Why should he, Frascatti, if there is no brigandage? Is it the Mafia?"

"Ah, I have heard that Mafia spoken of, but mostly when I lived inAmerica, which is Chicago. Here we do not know of the Mafia. "

"But you advise us to be careful?"

"Everywhere, illustrissimo signore, it is well to be what you call thecircumspection. I remember that in the State street of Chicago, which isAmerica, peaceful citizens were often killed by bandits. Eh, is it notso?"

"Quite probable, " said Uncle John, soberly. 

"Then, what will you? Are we worse than Americans, that you fear us?Never mind Il Duca, or the tales they foolishly whisper of him. Here youmay 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 UncleJohn eyed one another enquiringly. 

"Our duke seems to bear no good reputation, " said Beth, in a tone so lowthat Frascatti could not overhear. "Everyone fears to speak of him. "

"Singular, " said Uncle John, "that Patsy's friend turns out to be amystery, even in his own home. I wonder if he is a leader of the Mafia, or just a common brigand?"

"In either case, " said Patsy, "he will not care to injure us, I am sure. We all treated him very nicely, and I just made him talk and besociable, whether he wanted to or not. That ought to count for somethingin our favor. But my opinion is that he's just a gruff old nobleman wholives in the hills and makes few friends. "

"And hasn't a name, any more than Louise's count has. Is it customary, my dear, for all Italian noblemen to conceal their identity?"

"I do not know, Uncle, " answered Louise, casting down her eyes. 

CHAPTER XIV

UNCLE JOHN DISAPPEARS

Uncle John grew to love Taormina. Its wildness and ruggedness somehowreminded him of the Rockies in the old pioneer days, and he wanderedthrough all the lanes of the quaint old town until he knew every corniceand cobblestone familiarly, and the women who sat weaving or mendingbefore their squalid but picturesque hovels all nodded a greeting to thecheery little American as he passed by. 

He climbed Malo, too, a high peak crowned by a ruined castle; and alsoMt. Venere, on the plateau of which an ancient city had once stood. Hiswalking tours did him good, and frequently while the girls lay stretchedupon the grass that lined the theatre enclosure, to idle the time orread or write enthusiastic letters home, Uncle John, scorning suchlaziness, would take his stick and climb mountains, or follow the roughpaths that diverged from the highway just beyond the Catania Gate. 

The tax gatherer whose tiny office was just inside the gate came to knowthe little gentleman very well, and although he could speak no Englishhe would bob his grizzled head and murmur: "_Buon giorno, signore!_" asthe stranger passed out on his daily stroll. 

One afternoon Mr. Merrick went down the hill path leading from theCastello-a-Mare to Capo di San Andrea, and as he passed around a narrowledge of rock came full upon two men seated upon a flat stone. One wasValdi and the other Ferralti, and they seemed engaged in earnestconversation when he interrupted them. The Count smiled frankly anddoffed his hat; the Duke frowned grimly, but also nodded. 

Uncle John passed on. The path was wild and little frequented. He feltin his side pocket and grasped the handle of his revolver; but there wasno attempt to follow or molest him. Nevertheless, when he returned fromthe beach he came up the longer winding roadway and was glad of thecompany of a ragged goatherd who, having no English, entertained "IlSignore" by singing ditties as he drove his goats before him. 

The misgivings Uncle John had originally conceived concerning CountFerralti returned in full force with this incident; but he resolved tosay nothing of it to his nieces. Silas Watson would be with them in acouple of days more and he would consult the shrewd lawyer before hetook any decisive action. 

Next morning after breakfast he left his nieces in the garden and saidhe would take a walk through the town and along the highway west, towardKaggi. 

"I'll be back in an hour or so, " he remarked, "for I have some lettersto write and I want them to catch the noon mail. "

So the girls sat on the terrace overlooking the sea and Etna, andbreathed the sweet air and enjoyed the caressing sunshine, until theynoticed the portiere coming hastily toward them. 

"Pardon, signorini, " he said, breathlessly, "but it will be to oblige megreatly if you will tell me where Signor Ferralti is. "

"He is not of our party, " answered Patsy, promptly; but Louise looked upas if startled, and said: "I have been expecting him to join us here. "

"Then you do not know?" exclaimed the portiere, in an anxious tone. 

"Know what, sir?" asked the girl. 

"That Signor Ferralti is gone. He has not been seen by any after lastevening. He did not occupy his room. But worse, far worse, will I breakyou the news gently--his baggage is gone with him!"

"His baggage gone!" echoed Louise, greatly disturbed. "And he did nottell you? You did not see him go?"

"Alas, no, signorina. His bill is still unsettled. He possessed twolarge travelling cases, which must have been carried out at the sideentrance with stealth most deplorable. The padrone is worried. SignorFerralti is American, and Americans seldom treat us wrongfully. "

"Signor Ferralti is Italian, " answered Louise, stiffly. 

"The name is Italian, perhaps; but he speaks only the English, " declaredthe portiere. 

"He is not a rogue, however. Assure your master of that fact. When Mr. Merrick returns he will settle Count Ferralti's bill. "

"Oh, Louise!" gasped Patsy. 

"I don't understand it in the least, " continued Louise, looking at hercousins as if she were really bewildered. "I left him in the courtyardlast evening to finish his cigar, and he said he would meet us in thegarden after breakfast. I am sure he had no intention of going away. Andfor the honor of American travellers his account here must be taken careof. "

"One thing is singular, " observed Beth, calmly. "There has been no trainsince last you saw him. If Count Ferralti has left the hotel, wherecould he be?"

The portiere brightened. 

"_Gia s'intende!_" he exclaimed, "he must still be inTaormina--doubtless at some other hotel. "

"Will you send and find out?" asked Louise. 

"I will go myself, and at once, " he answered. "And thank you, signorina, for the kind assurance regarding the account. It will relievethe padrone very much. "

He hurried away again, and an uneasy silence fell upon the nieces. 

"Do you care for this young man. Louise?" asked Beth, pointedly, afterthe pause had become awkward. 

"He is very attentive and gentlemanly, and I feel you have all wrongedhim by your unjust suspicions, " she replied, with spirit. 

"That does not answer my question, dear, " persisted her cousin. "Are youespecially fond of him?"

"What right have you to question me in this way, Beth?"

"No right at all, dear. I am only trying to figure out our doubtfulposition in regard to this young man--a stranger to all of us but you. "

"It is really none of our business, " observed Patsy, quickly. "We'rejust a lot of gossips to be figuring on Count Ferralti at all. Andalthough this sudden disappearance looks queer, on the face of it, thegentleman may simply have changed his boarding place. "

"I do not think so, " said Louise. "He liked this hotel very much. "

"And he may have liked some of its guests, " added Patsy, smiling. "Well, Uncle John will soon be back, and then we will talk it over with him. "

Uncle John was late. The portiere returned first. He had been to everyhotel in the little town, but none of them had received a guest sincethe afternoon train of yesterday. Count Ferralti had disappeared as ifby magic, and no one could account for it. 

Noon arrived, but no Uncle John. The girls became dispirited andanxious, for the little man was usually very prompt in keeping hisengagements, and always had returned at the set time. 

They waited until the last moment and then entered the _salle a manger_and ate their luncheon in gloomy silence, hoping every moment to hearthe sound of their uncle's familiar tread. 

After luncheon they held a hurried consultation and decided to go intotown and search for him. So away they trooped, asking eager questionsin their uncertain Italian but receiving no satisfactory reply untilthey reached the little office of the tax gatherer at the Catania Gate. 

"_Ah, si, signorini mia_, " he answered, cheerfully, "_il poco signorepassato da stamattini. _"

But he had not returned?

Not yet. 

They looked at one another blankly. 

"See here, " said Patsy; "Uncle John must have lost his way or met withan accident. You go back to the hotel, Louise, and wait there in case hereturns home another way. Beth and I will follow some of these paths andsee if we can find him. "

"He may have sprained an ankle, and be unable to walk, " suggested Beth. "I think Patsy's advice is good. "

So Louise returned through the town and the other girls began exploringthe paths that led into the mountains from every turn of the highway. But although they searched eagerly and followed each path a mile or moreof its length, no sign of life did they encounter--much less a sight oftheir missing uncle. The paths were wild and unfrequented, only on theCatania road itself a peasant now and then being found patientlytrudging along or driving before him a donkey laden with panniers oforanges or lemons for the markets of Taormina. 

On some of the solitary rocky paths they called to Uncle John by name, hoping that their voices might reach him; but only the echoes replied. Finally they grew discouraged. 

"It will be sunset before we get back, even if we start this minute, "said Beth, finally. "Let us return, and get some one to help us. "

Patsy burst into tears. 

"Oh, I'm sure he's lost, or murdered, or kidnapped!" she wailed. "Dear, dear Uncle John! Whatever shall we do, Beth?"

"Why, he may be at home, waiting for us to get back. Don't give way, Patsy; it will do no good, you know. "

They were thoroughly tired when, just at sunset, they reached the hotel. Louise came to meet them, and by the question in her eyes they knewtheir uncle had not returned. 

"Something must be done, and at once, " said Beth, decidedly. She was theyounger of the three girls, but in this emergency took the lead becauseof her calm and unruffled disposition and native good sense. "IsFrascatti in the courtyard?"

Patsy ran to see, and soon brought the vetturino into their sittingroom. He could speak English and knew the neighborhood thoroughly. Heought to be able to advise them. 

Frascatti listened intently to their story. He was very evidentlyimpressed. 

"Tell me, then, signorini, " he said, thoughtfully; "is Senor Merreekvery rich?"

"Why do you ask?" returned Beth, suspiciously. She remembered thewarning 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. But is Signor Merreek a very rich and well acquainted man in his owncountry? Believe me, it is well that you answer truly. "

"I think he is. "

The man looked cautiously around, and then came nearer and dropped hisvoice to a whisper. 

"Are you aware that Il Duca knows this?" he asked. 

Beth thought a moment. 

"We met the man you call Il Duca, but who told us he was Signor VictorValdi, on board the ship, where many of the passengers knew my unclewell. If he listened to their conversation he would soon know all aboutJohn Merrick, of course. "

Frascatti wagged his head solemnly. 

"Then, signorina, " he said, still speaking very softly, "I assure youthere is no need to worry over your uncle's safety. "

"What do you mean?" demanded Beth. 

"People do not lose their way in our mountains, " he replied. "The pathsare straight, and lead all to the highways. And there is little dangerof falling or of being injured. But--I regret to say it, signorini--itis a reflection upon our advanced civilization and the good name of ourpeople--but sometimes a man who is rich disappears for a time, and noone knows how it is, or where he may be. He always returns; but then heis not so rich. "

"I understand. My uncle is captured by brigands, you think. "

"There are no brigands, signorina. "

"Or the Mafia, then. "

"I do not know the Mafia. All I know is that the very rich should keeptheir riches secret when they travel. In Chicago, which is America, theywill knock you upon the head for a few miserable dollars; here mycountrymen scorn to attack or to rob the common people. But when a manis so very rich that he does not need all of his money, there are, Iregret to say, some lawless ones in Sicily who insist that he dividewith them. But the prisoner is always well treated, and when he pays heis sent away very happy. "

"Suppose he does not pay?"

"Ah, signorina, will not a drowning man clutch the raft that floats by?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. Hewill tell you how to send money to the lawless ones. You will follow hisinstructions, and he will come home with smiles and singing. I know. Itis very regrettable, but it is so. "

"It will not be so in this case, " said Beth, indignantly. "I will seethe American consul--"

"I am sorry, but there is none here. "

"I will telegraph to Messina for the military. They will search themountains, and bring your brigands to justice. "

Frascatti smiled sadly. 

"Oh, yes; perhaps they will come. But the military is Italian--notSicilian--and has no experience in these parts. The search will findnothing, except perhaps a dead body thrown upon the rocks to defyjustice. It is very regrettable, signorina; but it is so. "

Patsy was wringing her hands, frantic with terror. Louise was white andstaring. Beth puckered her pretty brow in a frown and tried to think. 

"Ferralti is also gone, " murmured Louise, in a hoarse voice. "They willrob or murder him with Uncle John!"

"I am quite convinced, " said Beth, coldly, "that your false count is afellow conspirator of the brigand called Il Duca. He has been followingus around to get a chance to ensnare Uncle John. "

"Oh, no, no, Beth! It is not so! I know better than that. "

"He would lie to you, of course, " returned the girl bitterly. "As soonas the trap was set he disappeared, bag and baggage, and left the simplegirl he had fooled to her own devices. "

"You do not know what you are saying, " retorted Louise, turning her backto Beth and walking to a window. From where they stood they could hearher sobbing miserably. 

"Whether Frascatti is right or not, " said Patsy, drying her eyes andtrying to be brave, "we ought to search for Uncle John at once. "

"I think so, too, " agreed Beth. Then, turning to the Sicilian, she said:"Will you get together as many men as possible and search the hills, with lanterns, for my uncle? You shall be well paid for all you do. "

"Most certainly, signorina, if it will please you, " he replied. "Howlong do you wish us to search?"

"Until you find him. "

"Then must we grow old in your service. _Non fa niente!_ It isregrettable, but--"

"Will you go at once?" stamping her foot angrily. 

"Most certainly, signorina. "

"Then lose no time. I will go with you and see you start. "

She followed the man out, and kept at his side until he had securedseveral servants with lanterns for the search. The promise of high_caparra_ or earnest money made all eager to join the band, but thepadrone could only allow a half dozen to leave their stations at thehotel. In the town, however, whither Beth accompanied them, a score ofsleepy looking fellows were speedily secured, and under the command ofFrascatti, who had resolved to earn his money by energy and good willbecause there was no chance of success, they marched out of the CataniaGate and scattered along the mountain paths. 

"If you find Uncle John before morning I will give you a thousand liraadditional, " promised Beth. 

"We will search faithfully, " replied her captain, "but the signorinamust not be disappointed if the lawless ones evade us. They have a wayof hiding close in the caves, where none may find them. It isregrettable, very; but it is so. "

Then he followed his men to the mountains, and as the last glimmer fromhis lantern died away the girl sighed heavily and returned alone throughthe deserted streets to the hotel. 

Clouds hid the moon and the night was black and forbidding; but it didnot occur to her to be afraid. 

CHAPTER XV

DAYS OF ANXIETY

Uncle John's nieces passed a miserable night. Patsy stole into his roomand prayed fervently beside his bed that her dear uncle might bepreserved and restored to them in health and safety. Beth, meantime, paced the room she shared with Patsy with knitted brows and flashingeyes, the flush in her cheeks growing deeper as her anger increased. Anungovernable temper was the girl's worst failing; the abductors of heruncle were arousing in her the most violent passions of which she wascapable, and might lead her to adopt desperate measures. She was only acountry girl, and little experienced in life, yet Beth might be expectedto undertake extraordinary things if, as she expressed it, if she "gotgood and mad!"

No sound was heard during the night from the room occupied by Louise, but the morning disclosed a white, drawn face and reddened eyelids asproof that she had rested as little as her cousins. 

Yet, singularly enough, Louise was the most composed of the three whenthey gathered in the little sitting room at daybreak, and triedearnestly to cheer the spirits of her cousins. Louise never conveyed theimpression of being especially sincere, but the pleasant words andmanners she habitually assumed rendered her an agreeable companion, andthis faculty of masking her real feelings now stood her in good steadand served to relieve the weight of anxiety that oppressed them all. 

Frascatti came limping back with his tired followers in the early dawn, and reported that no trace of the missing man had been observed. Therewere no brigands and no Mafia; on that point all his fellow townsmenagreed with him fully. But it was barely possible some lawless ones whowere all unknown to the honest Taorminians had made the rich American aprisoner. 

Il Duca? Oh, no, signorini! A thousand times, no. Il Duca was queer andunsociable, but not lawless. He was of noble family and a native of thedistrict. It would be very wrong and foolish to question Il Duca'sintegrity. 

With this assertion Frascatti went to bed. He had not shirked thesearch, because he was paid for it, and he and his men had tramped themountains faithfully all night, well knowing it would result in nothingbut earning their money. 

On the morning train from Catania arrived Silas Watson and his youngward Kenneth Forbes, the boy who had so unexpectedly inherited AuntJane's fine estate of Elmhurst on her death. The discovery of a willwhich gave to Kenneth all the property their aunt had intended for hernieces had not caused the slightest estrangement between the youngfolks, then or afterward. On the contrary, the girls were all glad thatthe gloomy, neglected boy, with his artistic, high-strung temperament, would be so well provided for. Without the inheritance he would havebeen an outcast; now he was able to travel with his guardian, the kindlyold Elmhurst lawyer, and fit himself for his future important positionin the world. More than all this, however, Kenneth had resolved to be agreat landscape painter, and Italy and Sicily had done much, in the pastyear, to prepare him for this career. 

The boy greeted his old friends with eager delight, not noticing for themoment their anxious faces and perturbed demeanor. But the lawyer'ssharp eyes saw at once that something was wrong. 

"Where is John Merrick?" he asked. 

"Oh, I'm so glad you've come!" cried Patsy, clinging to his hand. 

"We are in sore straits, indeed, Mr. Watson, " said Louise. 

"Uncle John is lost, " explained Beth, "and we're afraid he is in thehands of brigands. "

Then she related as calmly as she could all that had happened. Therelation was clear and concise. She told of their meeting with Valdi onthe ship, of Count Ferralti's persistence in attaching himself to theirparty, and of Uncle John's discovery that the young man was posing underan assumed name. She did not fail to mention Ferralti's timelyassistance on the Amalfi drive, or his subsequent devoted attentions toLouise; but the latter Beth considered merely as an excuse for followingthem around. 

"In my opinion, " said she, "we have been watched ever since we leftAmerica, by these two spies, who had resolved to get Uncle John intosome unfrequented place and then rob him. If they succeed in their vileplot, Mr. Watson, we shall be humiliated and disgraced forever. "

"Tut-tut, " said he; "don't think of that. Let us consider John Merrick, and nothing else. "

Louise protested that Beth had not been fair in her conclusions. TheCount was an honorable man; she would vouch for his character herself. 

But Mr. Watson did not heed this defense. The matter was veryserious--how serious he alone realized--and his face was grave indeed ashe listened to the descriptions of that terrible Il Duca whom thenatives all shrank from and refused to discuss. 

When he had learned all the nieces had to tell he hastened into the townand telegraphed the American consul at Messina. Then he found thequestura, or police office, and was assured by the officer in attendancethat the disappearance of Mr. Merrick was already known to theauthorities and every effort was being made to find him. 

"Do you think he has been abducted by brigands?" asked the lawyer. 

"Brigands, signore?" was the astonished reply. "There are no brigands inthis district at all. We drove them out many years ago. "

"How about Il Duca?"

"And who is that, signore?"

"Don't you know?"

"I assure you we have no official knowledge of such a person. There aredukes in Sicily, to be sure; but 'Il Duca' means nothing. Perhaps youcan tell me to whom you refer?"

"See here, " said the lawyer, brusquely; "I know your methods, _questoremia_, but they won't prove effective in this case. If you think anAmerican is helpless in this country you are very much mistaken. But, tosave time, I am willing to submit to your official requirements. I willpay you well for the rescue of my friend. "

"All shall be done that is possible. "

"But if you do not find him at once, and return him to us unharmed, Iwill have a regiment of soldiers in Taormina to search your mountainsand break up the bands of brigands that infest them. When I prove thatbrigands are here and that you were not aware of them, you will bedisgraced and deposed from your office. "

The official shrugged his shoulders, a gesture in which the Sicilian isas expert as the Frenchman. 

"I will welcome the soldiery, " said he; "but you will be able to provenothing. The offer of a reward may accomplish more--if it is greatenough to be interesting. "

"How great is that?"

"Can I value your friend? You must name the reward yourself. But eventhen I can promise nothing. In the course of our duty every effort isnow being made to find the missing American. But we work in the dark, asyou know. Your friend may be a suicide; he may have lost his mind andwandered into the wilderness; he may have committed some crime andabsconded. How do I know? You say he is missing, but that is no reasonthe brigands have him, even did brigands exist, which I doubt. Restassured, signore, that rigid search will be made. It is my boast that Ileave no duty unfulfilled. "

Mr. Watson walked back to the telegraph office and found an answer tohis message. The American consul was ill and had gone to Naples fortreatment. When he returned, his clerk stated, the matter of thedisappearance of John Merrick would immediately be investigated. 

Feeling extremely helpless and more fearful for his friend than before, the lawyer returned to the hotel for a conference with the nieces. 

"How much of a reward shall I offer?" he asked. "That seems to be theonly thing that can be depended upon to secure results. "

"Give them a million--Uncle John won't mind, " cried Patsy, earnestly. 

"Don't give them a penny, sir, " said Beth. "If they are holding him fora ransom Uncle is in no personal danger, and we have no right to assistin robbing him. "

"But you don't understand, my dear, " asserted the lawyer. "Thesebrigands never let a victim go free unless they are well paid. That iswhy they are so often successful. If John Merrick is not ransomed hewill never again be heard of. "

"But this is not a ransom, sir. You propose to offer a reward to thepolice. "

"Let me explain. The ways of the Italian police are very intricate. Theyknow of no brigandage here, and cannot find a brigand. But if the rewardis great enough to divide, they know where to offer a share of it, inlieu of a ransom, and will force the brigands to accept it. In that waythe police gets the glory of a rescue and a share of the spoils. If weoffer no reward, or an insignificant one, the brigands will be allowedto act as they please. "

"That is outrageous!" exclaimed Beth. 

"Yes. The Italian government deplores it. It is trying hard to break upa system that has existed for centuries, but has not yet succeeded. "

"Then I'd prefer to deal directly with the brigands. "

"So would I, if--"

"If what, sir?"

"If we were sure your uncle is in their hands. Do you think the partyyou sent out last night searched thoroughly?"

"I hope so. "

"I will send out more men at once. They shall search the hills in everydirection. Should they find nothing our worst fears will be confirmed, and then--"

"Well, Mr. Watson?"

"Then we must wait for the brigands to dictate the terms of a ransom, and make the best bargain we can. "

"That seems sensible, " said Kenneth, and both Patsy and Louise agreedwith him, although it would be tedious waiting. 

But Beth only bit her lip and frowned. 

Mr. Watson's searching party was maintained all day--for two days, andthree; but without result. Then they waited for the brigands to act. But a week dragged painfully by and no word of John Merrick'swhereabouts reached the ears of the weary watchers. 

CHAPTER XVI

TATO

When Uncle John passed through the west gate for a tramp along themountain paths he was feeling in an especially happy and contented mood. The day was bright and balmy, the air bracing, the scenery unfolded stepby step magnificent and appealing. To be in this little corner of theold world, amid ruins antedating the Christian era, and able to whollyforget those awful stock and market reports of Wall street, was aprivilege the old gentleman greatly appreciated. 

So away he trudged, exploring this path or that leading amongst therugged cliffs, until finally he began to take note of his erraticwanderings and wonder where he was. Climbing an elevated rock near thepath he poised himself upon its peak and studied the landscape spreadout beneath him. 

There was a patch of sea, with the dim Calabrian coast standing sentrybehind it. The nearer coast was hidden from view, but away at the leftwas a dull white streak marking the old wall of Taormina, and above thisthe ruined citadel and the ancient castle of Mola--each on its separatepeak. 

"I must be getting back, " he thought, and sliding down the surface ofthe rock he presently returned to the path from whence he had climbed. 

To his surprise he found a boy standing there and looking at him withsoft brown eyes that were both beautiful and intelligent. Uncle John wasas short as he was stout, but the boy scarcely reached to his shoulder. He was slender and agile, and clothed in a grey corduroy suit that wasbetter in texture than the American had seen other Sicilian youths wear. As a rule the apparel of the children in this country seemed sadlyneglected. 

Yet the most attractive thing about this child was his face, which wasdelicate of contour, richly tinted to harmonize with his magnificentbrown eyes, and so sensitive and expressive that it seemed able toconvey the most subtle shades of emotion. He seemed ten or twelve yearsof age, but might have been much older. 

As soon as the American had returned to the path the boy came toward himin an eager, excited way, and exclaimed:

"Is it not Signor Merrick?"

The English was fluent, and only rendered softer by the foreignintonation. 

"It is, " said Uncle John, cheerfully. "Where did you drop from, my lad?I thought these hills were deserted, until now. "

"I am sent by a friend, " answered the boy, speaking rapidly andregarding 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, inthe hills yonder, and unable to return to the town without assistance. "

"Ferralti. H-m-m. Is he hurt?"

"Badly, signore; from a fall on the rocks. "

"And he sent for me?"

"Yes, signore. I know you by sight--who does not?--and as I hurriedalong I saw you standing on the rock. It is most fortunate. Will youhasten to your friend, then? I will lead you to him. "

Uncle John hesitated. He ought to be getting home, instead ofpenetrating still farther into these rocky fastnesses. And Ferralti wasno especial friend, to claim his assistance. But then the thoughtoccurred that this young Italian had befriended both him and his niecesin an extremity, and was therefore entitled to consideration whentrouble in turn overtook himself. The natural impulse of this thoughtwas to go to his assistance. 

"All right, my lad, " said he. "Lead on, and I'll see what can be donefor Ferralti. Is it far?"

"Not far, signore. "

With nervous, impatient steps the child started up the narrow path andUncle John followed--not slowly, but scarcely fast enough to satisfy hiszealous 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. "

Uncle John saved his remaining breath for the climb. He could askquestions afterward. 

The path was in a crevasse where the rocks seemed once to have split. Itwas narrow and steep, and before long ended in a _cul de sac_. Thelittle man thought they had reached their destination, then; but withouthesitation the boy climbed over a boulder and dropped into another pathon the opposite side, holding out a hand to assist the American. 

Uncle John laughed at the necessity, but promptly slid his stout bodyover the boulder and then paused to mop his brow. 

"Much farther, Tato?"

"Just a step, signore. "

"It is lucky you found Ferralti, or he might have died in these wildswithout 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 anothercrevasse, but not a long one. Presently the child came to a halt becausethe way ended and they could proceed no farther. He leaned against therock and in a high-pitched, sweet voice sang part of a Sicilian ditty, neither starting the verse nor ending it, but merely trilling out afragment. 

Uncle John regarded him wonderingly; and then, with a sudden suspicion, he demanded:

"You are not playing me false, Tato?"

"I, signore?" smiling frankly into the man's eyes; "you need never fearTato, signore. To be your friend, and Signor Ferralti's friend, makes mevery proud. "

The rock he leaned against fell inward, noiselessly, and disclosed apassage. It was short, for there was light at the other end. 

The strange child darted in at once. 

"This way, signore. He is here!"

Uncle John drew back. He had forgotten until now that these mountainsare dangerous. And something strange in the present proceedings, theloneliness of the place and the elfish character of his guide, suddenlywarned him to be cautious. 

"See here, my lad, " he called: "I'll go no farther. "

Instantly Tato was at his side again, grasping the man's hand in histiny brown one and searching his face with pleading eyes. 

"Ah, signore, you will not fail your friend, when he is so near you andin such great trouble? See! I who am a stranger and not even hiscountryman, even I weep for the poor young man, and long to comfort him. Do you, his friend, refuse him aid because you have fear of the wildmountains and a poor peasant boy?"

Tears really stood in the beautiful brown eyes. They rolled down hischeeks, as with both hands he pressed that of Uncle John and urged himgently forward. 

"Oh, well; lead on, Tato. I'll see the other side of your tunnel, anyhow. But if you play me tricks, my lad--"

He paused, for a wonderful vision had opened before him. Coming throughthe short passage hewn in the rocks the American stood upon a ledgefacing a most beautiful valley, that was hemmed in by precipitous cliffson every side. From these stern barriers of the outside world the groundsloped gradually toward the center, where a pretty brook flowed, itswaters sparkling like diamonds in the sunlight as it tumbled over itsrocky bed. Groves of oranges and of olive, lemon and almond treesoccupied much of the vale, and on a higher point at the right, its backto the wall of rock that towered behind it, stood a substantial yetpicturesque mansion of stone, with several outbuildings scattered oneither side. 

The valley seemed, indeed, a toy kingdom sequestered from the greatoutside world, yet so rich and productive within itself that it wasindependent of all else. 

Uncle John gazed with amazement. Who could have guessed this delightfulspot was hidden safe within the heart of the bleak, bare mountainsurrounding it? But suddenly he bethought himself. 

"What place is this, Tato?" he asked; "and where is our friendFerralti, who needs me?"

There was no reply. 

He turned around to find the boy had disappeared. Moreover, the passagehad disappeared. Only a wall of rock was behind him, and although hiseyes anxiously searched the rifts and cracks of its rough surface, noindication of the opening through which he had passed could bediscovered. 

CHAPTER XVII

THE HIDDEN VALLEY

Uncle John's first inspiration was to sit down upon a stone to think. Hedrew out his pipe and lighted it, to assist his meditations. 

These were none too pleasant. That he had been cleverly entrapped, andthat by a child scarcely in its teens, was too evident to needreflection. And what a secure trap it was! The mountains ranged allaround the valley were impossible to scale, even by an Alpine climber, and to one who was not informed of its location the existence of thevalley 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 hadnot suspected such a thing as this. Now, then, first of all let me markthis spot, so that I will remember it. Just back of where I now stand isthe entrance or outlet to the tunnel through the wall. It is closed, Isuppose, by a swinging stone, like the one on the opposite side. I sawthat one opened--opened by some person concealed from view, as soon asthe boy sang his bit of song which was the signal agreed upon. And I wasfool enough, after that warning, to walk straight through the tunnel!You're getting old, John Merrick; that's the only way I can account foryour folly. But Ferralti hasn't won the odd trick yet, and if I keep mywits about me he isn't likely to win. "

Thus ruminating, Uncle John searched the rocky wall carefully andbelieved he would know the place again, although which of the roughstones of its surface formed the doorway to the tunnel he could notguess. 

A ledge of rock served as a path leading to right and left around thisend of the valley, or "pocket" in the mountain, as it could moreproperly be called. Uncle John turned to the right, striding along withhis usual deliberation, smoking his pipe and swinging his cane as heapproached the stone dwelling that formed the center of the littlesettlement. As yet no sign of human life had he observed since Tato haddisappeared, although a few cows were standing in a green meadow andsome goats scrambled among the loose rocks at the further end of theenclosure. 

Around the house the grounds had been laid out in gardens, with flowersand shrubbery, hedges and shade trees scattered about. Chickens cluckedand strutted along the paths and an air of restfulness and peace broodedover all. 

Uncle John was plainly mystified until he drew quite close to thedwelling, which had many verandas and balconies and bore every evidenceof habitation. Then, to his astonishment, he beheld the form of a manstretched lazily in a wicker chair beside the entrance, and while hepaused, hesitating, the man sat up and bowed politely to him. 

"Good morning, Signor Merreek. "

It was Victor Valdi, or, ignoring the fictitious name, the mysteriouspersonage known as "Il Duca. "

"Behold my delight, Signor Merreek, to receive you in my poor home, "continued the man. "Will you not be seated, _caro amico_?"

The words were soft and fair, but the dark eyes gleamed with triumph anda sneer curled the thin lips. 

"Thank you, " said Uncle John; "I believe I will. "

He stepped upon the veranda and sat down opposite his host. 

"I came to see Count Ferralti, who is hurt, I understand, " he continued. 

"It is true, signore, but not badly. The poor count is injured mostly inhis mind. Presently you shall see him. "

"No hurry, " observed Uncle John. "Pleasant place you have here, Duke. "

"It is very good of you to praise it, signore. It is my most ancientpatrimony, and quite retired and exclusive. "

"So I see. "

"The house you have honored by your presence, signore, was erected somethree hundred and thirty years ago, by an ancestor who lovedretirement. It has been in my family ever since. We all loveretirement. "

"Very desirable spot for a brigand, I'm sure, " remarked the American, puffing his pipe composedly. 

"Brigand? Ah, it pleases you to have humor, signore, mia. Brigand! But Iwill be frank. It is no dishonor to admit that my great ancestors ofpast centuries were truly brigands, and from this quiet haven salliedforth to do mighty deeds. They were quite famous, I am told, those oldenDukes d'Alcanta. "

"I do not question it. "

"Our legends tell of how my great ancestors demanded tribute of the richwho passed through their domain--for all this end of Sicily was given tous by Peter of Aragon, and remained in our possession until the secondFerdinand robbed us of it. Those times were somewhat wild and barbarous, signore, and a gentleman who protected his estates and asked tribute ofstrangers was termed a brigand, and became highly respected. But now itis different. We are civilized and meek, and ruled most lovingly byItaly. They will tell you there is no brigandage in all Sicily. "

"So I understand. "

"To-day I am nobody. My very name is forgotten. Those around thismountain know nothing of my little estate, and I am content. I desirenot glory: I desire not prominence; to live my life in seclusion, withthe occasional visit of a friend like yourself, is enough to satisfyme. "

"You seem well known in Taormina. "

"Quite a mistake, signore. "

"And the natives must have climbed these peaks at times and looked downinto your secluded kingdom. "

"If so, they have forgotten it. "

"I see. "

"I give to the churches and the poor, but in secret. If I have an enemy, he disappears--I do not know how; no one knows. "

"Of course not. You are an improvement on your ancestors, Duke. Insteadof being a brigand you belong to the Mafia, and perform your robberiesand murders in security. Very clever, indeed. "

"But again you are wrong, signore, " replied the Duke, with a frown. "Ihave never known of this Mafia, of which you speak, nor do I believe itexists. For myself, I am no robber, but a peaceful merchant. "

"A merchant?" returned Uncle John, surprised by the statement. 

"To be sure. I have some ancient and very valuable relics in mypossession, treasured most carefully from the medićval days. These Isell to my friends--who are fortunately all foreigners like yourself andcan appreciate such treasures--and so obtain for myself and my family amodest livelihood. "

"And you expect to sell something to me?" asked Uncle John, understanding very well the Sicilian's meaning. 

"It is my earnest hope, signore. "

The American fell silent, thinking upon the situation. The fiercelooking brigand beside him was absurd enough, in his way, but doubtlessa dangerous man to deal with. Uncle John was greatly interested in theadventure. It was such a sharp contrast to the hum-drum, unromanticAmerican life he had latterly known that he derived a certain enjoymentfrom the novel experience. If the girls did not worry over his absencehe would not much regret his visit to Il Duca's secluded valley. 

It was already midday, and his nieces would be expecting him toluncheon. When he did not appear they would make enquiries, and try tofind him. It occurred to him how futile all such attempts must prove. Even to one acquainted with the mountain paths the entrance to theduke's domain was doubtless a secret, and the brigand had plainly hintedthat the native Sicilians were too cautious to spy upon him or molesthim in any way. 

So far, the only person he had seen was Il Duca himself. The child whohad decoyed him was, of course, somewhere about, and so also wasFerralti. How many servants or followers the brigand might have was asyet a mystery to the new arrival. 

In the side pocket of Uncle John's loose coat lay a loaded revolver, which he had carried ever since he had received Mr. Watson's warningletter. He had never imagined a condition of danger where he could notuse this weapon to defend himself, and as long as it remained by him hehad feared nothing. But he had been made a prisoner in so deft a mannerthat he had no opportunity to expostulate or offer any sort ofresistance. Later there might be a chance to fight for his liberty, andthe only sensible action was to wait and bide his time. 

"For example, " the Duke was saying, in his labored, broken English, "Ihave here a priceless treasure--very antique, very beautiful. It was inone time owned by Robert the Norman, who presented it to my greatestancestor. "

He drew an odd-shaped ring from his pocket and handed it to theAmerican. It was of dull gold and set with a half dozen flat-cutgarnets. Perhaps antique; perhaps not; but of little intrinsic value. 

"This ring I have decided to sell, and it shall be yours, SignorMerreek, at a price far less than is represented by its historic worth. I am sure you will be glad to buy it. "

"For how much?" asked Uncle John, curiously. 

"A trifle; a mere hundred thousand lira. "

"Twenty thousand dollars!"

"The ring of King Roger. How cheap! But, nevertheless, you shall have itfor that sum. "

Uncle John smiled. 

"My dear Duke, " he replied, "you have made a sad mistake. I am acomparatively poor man. My fortune is very modest. "

The brigand lay back in his chair and lighted a fresh cigarette. 

"I fear you undervalue yourself, my dear guest, " he said. "Recently haveI returned from America, where I was told much of the wealth of SignorJohn Merreek, who is many times a millionaire. See, " drawing a paperfrom his pocket, "here is a list of the stocks and securities you own. Also of government and railway bonds, of real estate and of manufacturescontrolled by your money. I will read, and you will correct me if anerror occurs. "

Uncle John listened and was amazed. The schedule was complete, and itstotal was many millions. It was a better list of holdings than UncleJohn possessed himself. 

"You foreigners make queer mistakes, Duke, " said he, taking anothertack. "This property belongs to another John Merrick. It is a commonname, and that is doubtless why you mistook me for the rich JohnMerrick. "

"I have noticed, " returned the Duke, coldly, "that this strange delusionof mind is apt to overtake my guests. But do not be alarmed; it willpass away presently, and then you will realize that you are yourself. Remember that I crossed the Atlantic on your steamship, signore. Manypeople there on board spoke of you and pointed you out to me as thegreat man of finance. Your own niece that is called Patsy, she also toldme much about you, and of your kindness to her and the other youngsignorini. Before I left New York a banker of much dignity informed meyou would sail on the ship 'Princess Irene. ' If a mistake has been made, signore, it is yours, and not mine. Is your memory clearer now?"

Uncle John laughed frankly. The rascal was too clever for him to disputewith. 

"Whoever I am, " said he, "I will not buy your ring. "

"I am pained, " replied the brigand, lightly. "But there is ample timefor you to reflect upon the matter. Do not decide hastily, I imploreyou. I may have been too liberal in making my offer, and time may assistme in fixing a just price for the relic. But we have had enough ofbusiness just now. It is time for our midday collation. Oblige me byjoining us, signore. "

He blew a shrill whistle, and a man stepped out of a doorway. He was anenormous Sicilian, tall, sinewy and with a countenance as dark andfierce as his master's. In his belt was a long knife, such as is knownas a stilleto. 

"Tommaso, " said the Duke, "kindly show Signor Merreek to his room, andask Guido if luncheon is ready to be served. "

"_Va bene, padrone_, " growled the man, and turned obediently to escortthe American. 

Uncle John entered the house, traversed a broad and cool passage, mounted to the second floor and found himself in a pleasant room with abalcony overlooking the valley. It was comfortably furnished, and witha bow that was not without a certain grim respect the man left him aloneand tramped down the stairs again. There had been no attempt to restrainhis liberty or molest him in any way, yet he was not slow to recognizethe fact that he was a prisoner. Not in the house, perhaps, but in thevalley. There was no need to confine him more closely. He could notescape. 

He bathed his hands and face, dried them on a fresh towel, and found histoilet table well supplied with conveniences. In the next room some onewas pacing the floor like a caged beast, growling and muttering angrilyat every step. 

Uncle John listened. "The brigand seems to have more than one guest, " hethought, and smiled at the other's foolish outbursts. 

Then he caught a word or two of English that made him start. He went tothe door between the two rooms and threw it open, finding himself faceto face with Count Ferralti. 

CHAPTER XVIII

GUESTS OF THE BRIGAND

"Good morning, Count, " said Uncle John, cheerfully. 

The other stared at him astonished. 

"Good heavens! Have they got you, too?" he exclaimed. 

"Why, I'm visiting his excellency, Il Duca, if that's what you mean, "replied Mr. Merrick. "But whether he's got me, or I've got him, Ihaven't yet decided. "

The young man's jaw was tied in a bandage and one of his eyes was blackand discolored. He looked agitated and miserable. 

"Sir, you are in grave danger; we are both in grave danger, " heannounced, "unless we choose to submit to being robbed by this rascallybrigand. "

"Then, " observed Uncle John, "let's submit. "

"Never! Not in a thousand years!" cried Ferralti, wildly. And then thissingular young man sank into a chair and burst into tears. 

Uncle John was puzzled. The slender youth--for he was but a youth inspite of his thin moustaches--exhibited a queer combination of courageand weakness; but somehow Uncle John liked him better at that momentthan he ever had before. Perhaps because he now realized he had unjustlysuspected him. 

"You seem to have been hurt, Count, " he remarked. 

"Why, I was foolish enough to struggle, and that brute Tommaso poundedme, " was the reply. "You were wise to offer no resistance, sir. "

"As for that, I hadn't a choice, " said Uncle John, smiling. "When didthey get you, Ferralti?"

"Last evening. I walked in the garden of the hotel and they threw a sackover my head. I resisted and tried to cry out. They beat me until I wasinsensible and then brought me here, together with my travelling cases, which they removed from my room to convey the impression that I had goneaway voluntarily. When I awakened from my swoon I was in this room, with the doctor bending over me. "

"The doctor?"

"Oh, they have a doctor in this accursed den, as well as a priest and alawyer. The Duke entreated my pardon. He will punish his men for abusingme. But he holds me a safe prisoner, just the same. "

"Why?"

"He wants a ransom. He will force me to purchase an ancient brasscandlestick for fifty thousand lira. "

Uncle John looked at his companion thoughtfully. 

"Tell me, Count Ferralti, " he said, "who you really are. I had believedyou were Il Duca's accomplice, until now. But if he has trapped you, anddemands 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 asdoes this brigand duke?"

The young man hesitated. Then he spread out his hands with an appealinggesture and said:

"Not yet, Mr. Merrick! Do not press me now, I implore you. Perhaps Ihave done wrong to try to deceive you, but in good time I will explaineverything, and then you will understand me better. "

"You are no count. "

"That is true, Mr. Merrick. "

"You are not even an Italian. "

"That is but partly true, sir. "

"You have seen fit to deceive us by--"

Tommaso threw wide the door. 

"_Il dejuné é servito_, " he said gruffly. 

"What does that mean?" asked Uncle John. 

"Luncheon is ready. Shall we go down?"

"Yes; I'm hungry. "

They followed the man to the lower floor, where he ushered them into alow, cool room where a long table was set. The walls were whitewashedand bore some religious prints, gaudily colored. A white cloth coveredthe table, which was well furnished with modern crockery and glass, andantique silverware. 

At the head of the table were two throne-like chairs, one slightlylarger and more elevated than the other. In the more important seat wasa withered old woman with a face like that of a mummy, except that itwas supplied with two small but piercing jet eyes that seemed very muchalive as they turned shrewdly upon the strangers. She was the only oneof the company they found seated. The Duke stood behind the smallerchair beside her, and motioned the Americans to occupy two places at theside of the table next him. Opposite them, in the places adjoining theelevated dais, were two remarkable individuals whom Uncle John saw forthe first time. One was a Cappuccin monk, with shaven crown and coarsecassock fastened at the waist by a cord. He was blind in one eye and thelid of the other drooped so as to expose only a thin slit. Fat, awkwardand unkempt, he stood holding to the back of his chair and swayingslightly from side to side. Next to him was a dandified appearing manwho was very slight and thin of form but affected the dress and mannersof extreme youth. Ferralti whispered to Uncle John that this was thedoctor. 

The table dropped a step in heighth from these places, and the balanceof its length was occupied by several stalwart Sicilians, clothed inordinary peasant costume, and a few silent, heavy-featured women. Tatowas not present. 

"Signori, " said the Duke to the Americans, "allow me to present you tomy mother, the head of our illustrious family; one who is known, admiredand feared throughout Sicily as her Excellenza la Duchessa d'Alcanta. "

With the words the Duke bowed low to the old woman. Uncle John andFerralti also bowed low. The lines of servitors humbly bent themselvesdouble. But the Duchessa made no acknowledgment. Her bead like eyessearched the faces of the "guests" with disconcerting boldness, and thendropped to her plate. 

At this signal the fat priest mumbled a blessing upon the food, the Dukewaved his hand, and all the company became seated. 

Uncle John felt as if he were taking part in a comic opera, and enjoyedthe scene immensely. But now his attention was distracted by thestewards bringing in steaming platters of macaroni and stewed mutton, from which they first served the Duchessa, and then the Duke, andafterward the guests. The servants waited hungry-eyed until theseformalities were completed, and then swept the platters clean and ateravenously. 

Uncle John plied his knife and fork busily and found the foodexcellently prepared. Ferralti seemed to have little appetite. Some ofhis teeth had been knocked out and his broken wrist, which had butpartially healed, had been wrenched in the scrimmage of the night beforeso that it caused him considerable pain. 

The Duke attempted little conversation, doubtless through deference tothe aged Duchessa, who remained absolutely silent and unresponsive toher surroundings. He praised his wine, however, which he said was fromtheir own vineyards, and pressed the Americans to drink freely. 

When she had finished her meal the Duchessa raised a hand, and at thesignal the whole company arose and stood at their places while two ofthe women assisted her to retire. She leaned upon their shoulders, beingtaller than her son, but displayed surprising vigor for one so advancedin years. 

When she had gone the others finished at their leisure, and theconversation became general, the servants babbling in their volubleItalian without any restraint whatever. 

Then the Duke led his prisoners to the veranda and offered them cigars. These were brought by Tato, who then sat in the duke's lap and curled upaffectionately in his embrace, while the brigand's expression softenedand he stroked the boy's head with a tender motion. 

Uncle John watched the little scene approvingly. It was the first timehe had seen Tato since the child had lured him through the tunnel. 

"Your son, Duke?" he asked. 

"Yes, signore; my only child. The heir to my modest estate. "

"And a very good brigand, already, for his years, " added Mr. Merrick. "Ah, Tato, Tato, " shaking his head at the child, "how could you be socruel as to fool an innocent old chap like me?"

Tato laughed. 

"I did not deceive you, signore. You but misunderstood me. I saidSignor Ferralti was hurt, and so he was. "

"But you said he needed my assistance. "

"Does he not, signore?"

"How do you speak such good English?"

"Father Antoine taught me. "

"The monk?"

"Yes, signore. "

"My child is a linguist, " remarked the Duke, complacently. "Sh--he hasbeen taught English, German and French, even from the days of infancy. It is very good for me, for now Tato can entertain my guests. "

"Have you no Italian guests, then?" asked Uncle John. 

"No, since Italy owns Sicily, and I am a loyal subject. Neither have Imany Germans or Frenchmen, although a few wander my way, now and then. But the Americans I love, and often they visit me. There were three lastyear, and now here are two more to honor me with their presence. "

"The Americans make easier victims, I suppose. "

"Oh, the Americans are very rich, and they purchase my wares liberally. By the way, Signor Ferralti, " turning to the young man, "have youdecided yet the little matter of your own purchase?"

"I will not buy your candlestick, if that is what you refer to, " was theresponse. 

"No?"

"By no means. Fifty thousand lira, for a miserable bit of brass!"

"But I forgot to tell you, signore; the candlestick is no longer forsale, " observed the Duke, with an evil smile. "Instead, I offer you amagnificent bracelet which is a hundred years old. "

"Thank you. What's the price?"

"A hundred thousand lira, signore. "

Ferralti started. Then in turn he smiled at his captor. 

"That is absurd, " said he. "I have no wealth at all, sir, but live on asmall allowance that barely supplies my needs. I cannot pay. "

"I will take that risk, signore, " said the brigand, coolly. "You havebut to draw me an order on Mr. Edward Leighton, of New York, for onehundred thousand lira--or say twenty thousand dollars--and the braceletis yours. "

"Edward Leighton! My father's attorney! How did you know of him, sir?"

"I have an agent in New York, " answered the Duke, "and lately I havebeen in your city myself. "

"Then, if you know so much, you scoundrelly thief, you know that myfather will not honor a draft for such a sum as you demand. I doubt ifmy father would pay a single dollar to save me from assassination. "

"We will not discuss that, signore, for I regret to say that your fatheris no longer able to honor drafts. However, your attorney can do so, andwill, without question. "

Ferralti stared at him blankly. 

"What do you mean by that?" he demanded. 

The Duke shook the ashes from his cigar and examined the glowing endwith interest. 

"Your father, " was the deliberate reply, "was killed in a railwayaccident, four days ago. I have just been notified of the fact by acable 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 ofyour cursed game?"

"It is quite true, signore, I regret being obliged to break the ill newsso abruptly; but this gentleman thought himself too poor to purchase mylittle bracelet, and it was necessary to inform him that he is suddenlymade wealthy--not yet so great a Croesus as yourself, Signor Merreek, but still a very rich man. "

Ferralti ceased trembling, but the horror still clung to his eyes. 

"A railway wreck!" he muttered, hoarsely. "Where was it, sir? Tell me, Ibeseech you! And are you sure my father is dead?"

"Very sure, signore. My informant is absolutely reliable. But thedetails of the wreck I do not know. I am only informed of the fact ofyour father's death, and that his will leaves you his entire fortune. "

Ferralti arose and staggered away to his room, and Uncle John watchedhim go pityingly, but knew no way to comfort him. When he had gone heasked gently:

"His father was an American, Duke?"

"Yes, signore. "

"And wealthy, you say?"

"Exceedingly wealthy, signore. "

"What was his name?"

"Ah; about that ring, my dear guest. Do you think a hundred and fiftythousand lira too much for it?"

"You said a hundred thousand. "

"That was this morning, signore. The ring has increased in value since. To-morrow, without doubt, it will be worth two hundred thousand. "

Tato laughed at the rueful expression on the victim's face, and, amoment after, Uncle John joined in his laughter. 

"Very good, duke, " he said. "I don't wish to rob you. Let us wait untilto-morrow. "

The brigand seemed puzzled. 

"May I ask why, Signor Merreek--since you are warned?" he enquired. 

"Why, it's this way, Duke. I'm just a simple, common-place American, and have lived a rather stupid existence for some time. We have nobrigands at home, nor any hidden valleys or protected criminals likeyourself. The romance of my surroundings interests me; your methods areunique and worth studying; if I am so rich as you think me a few extrahundred thousand lira will be a cheap price to pay for this experience. Is it not so?"

The Duke frowned. 

"Do you play with me?" he asked, menacingly. 

"By no means. I'm just the spectator. I expect you to make theentertainment. I'm sure it will be a good show, although the price israther high. "

Il Duca glared, but made no reply at the moment. Instead, he satstroking Tato's hair and glowering evilly at the American. 

The child whispered something in Italian, and the man nodded. 

"Very well, signore, " he said, more quietly. "To-morrow, then, if it sopleases you. "

Then, taking Tato's hand, he slowly arose and left the veranda. 

For a moment the American looked after them with a puzzled expression. Then he said to himself, with a smile: "Ah, I have solved one mystery, at any rate. Tato is a girl!"

CHAPTER XIX

A DIFFICULT POSITION

And now Uncle John, finding himself left alone, took his walkingstickand started out to explore the valley. 

He felt very sorry for young Ferralti, but believed his sympathy couldin no way lighten the blow caused by the abrupt news of his parent'sdeath. He would wish to be alone with his grief for a time. By and byMr. Merrick intended to question his fellow prisoner and try to find outsomething of his history. 

The dale was very beautiful as it lay basking in the afternoon sun. Nearthe house was a large vegetable garden, which, being now shaded by theoverhanging cliffs, was being tended by a sour-visaged Sicilian. UncleJohn watched him for a time, but the fellow paid no heed to him. Everyservant connected with the duke's establishment seemed surly and morose, and this was the more remarkable because the country folk and villagersUncle John had met were usually merry and light-hearted. 

Down by the brook were green meadows and groves of fruit trees. Thelittle gentleman followed the stream for some distance, and finally cameupon a man seated on the bank above a broad pool, intently engaged infishing. It proved to be the dandified old doctor, who wore gloves toprotect his hands and a broad-rimmed straw hat to shade his face. 

Uncle John stood beside the motionless figure for a moment, watching theline. Then, forgetting he was in a foreign country, he asked carelessly:

"Any luck?"

"Not yet, " was the quiet reply, in clear English. "It is too early tointerest the fishes. An hour later they will bite. "

"Then why did you come so soon?"

"To escape that hell-hole yonder, " nodding his head toward the house. 

Uncle John was surprised. 

"But you are not a prisoner, doctor, " he ventured to say. 

"Except through the necessity of earning a livelihood. Il Duca payswell--or rather the Duchessa does, for she is the head of thishousehold. I am skillful, and worth my price, and they know it. "

"You say the Duchessa is the head of the house?"

"Assuredly, signore. Il Duca is her slave. She plans and directseverything, and her son but obeys her will. "

"Did she send him to America?"

"I think so. But do not misunderstand me. The Duke is clever on his ownaccount, and almost as wicked as his old mother. And between them theyare training the child to be as bad as they are. It is dreadful. "

"Have you been here long?"

"For seven years, signore. "

"But you can resign whenever you please?"

"Why not? But the doubt makes me uneasy, sometimes. In another year Iwould like to go to Venice, and retire from professional life. I am aVenetian, you observe; no dastardly brigand of a Sicilian. And inanother year I shall have sufficient means to retire and end my days inpeace. Here I save every centessimo I make, for I can spend nothing. "

Uncle John sat down upon the bank beside the confiding Venetian. 

"Doctor, " said he, "I am somewhat puzzled by this man you call Il Duca, as well as by my audacious capture and the methods employed to rob me. I'd like your advice. What shall I do?"

"The only possible thing, signore. Submit. "

"Why is it the only possible thing?"

"Have you not yet discovered? Unless you pay, your friends will neverhear from you again. Il Duca, by his mother's favor, is king here. Hewill murder you if you oppose his demands. "

"Really?"

"It is quite certain, signore. He has murdered several obstinate peoplesince I have been here, and the outside world will never know theirfate. It is folly to oppose the king. Were you not rich you would not behere. Il Duca knows the exact wealth of every American who travelsabroad and is likely to visit Sicily. Many escape him, but a few wanderinto his toils, for he is wonderfully sagacious. Mark you: he does notdemand your all; he merely takes tribute, leaving his victims sufficientto render life desirable to them. If he required their all, many wouldas soon forfeit life as make the payment; but a tithe they will sparefor the privilege of living. That is why he is so successful. And thatis why he remains undisturbed. For an American, being robbed so simply, never tells of his humiliating experience. He goes home, and avoidsSicily ever after. "

"H-m-m. I understand. "

"But if you do not pay, you are not permitted to leave this place. Youare killed at once, and the incident is over. Il Duca does not love tomurder, but he takes no chances. "

"I see. But suppose I pay, and then make complaint to the Italiangovernment?"

"It has been done, signore. But the government is very blind. It doesnot know Il Duca d' Alcanta. Its officials are convinced he does notexist. They investigate carefully, and declare the tale is all a myth. "

"Then there is no way of escape?"

"Absolutely none. Such a condition is almost inconceivable, is it not?and in this enlightened age? But it exists, and is only harmful when itsvictims are stubborn and rebellious. To be cheerful and pay promptly isthe only sensible way out of your difficulty. "

"Thank you, " said Uncle John. "I shall probably pay promptly. But tellme, to satisfy my curiosity, how does your duke murder his victims?"

"He does not call it murder, as I do; he says they are suicides, or thevictims of accident. They walk along a path and fall into a pit. It isdeep, and they are killed. The pit is also their tomb. They areforgotten, and the trap is already set for their successors. "

"Rather a gloomy picture, doctor. "

"Yes. I tell you this because my nature is kind. I abhor all crime, andmuch prefer that you should live. But, if you die, my _salario_continues. I am employed to guard the health of the Duke'sfamily--especially the old Duchessa--and have no part in this detestablebusiness. "

"Isn't that a bite?"

"No, signore. It is the current. It is not time for the fish to bite. "

Uncle John arose. 

"Good afternoon, doctor. "

"Good afternoon, signore. "

He left the old fellow sitting there and walked on. The valley was abouta half mile long and from a quarter to a third of a mile in width. Itresembled a huge amphitheatre in shape. 

The American tramped the length of the brook, which disappeared into therocky wall at the far end. Then he returned through the orchards to thehouse. 

The place was silent and seemed deserted. There was a languor in theatmosphere that invited sleep. Uncle John sought his room and lay downfor an afternoon nap, soon falling into a sound slumber. 

When he awoke he found Ferralti seated beside his bed. The young man waspale, but composed. 

"Mr. Merrick, " said he, "what have you decided to do?"

Uncle John rubbed his eyes and sat up. 

"I'm going to purchase that ring, " he answered, "at the best price theDuke will make me. "

"I am disappointed, " returned Ferralti, stiffly. "I do not intend toallow myself to be robbed in this way. "

"Then write a farewell letter, and I'll take it to your friends. "

"It may not be necessary, sir. "

Uncle John regarded him thoughtfully. 

"What can you do?" he asked. 

Ferralti leaned forward and whispered, softly: "I have a stoutpocket-knife, with a very long blade. I shall try to kill the Duke. Oncehe is dead his people will not dare to oppose us, but will fly interror. It is only Il Duca's audacity and genius that enables thisrobber's den to exist. "

"You would rather attempt this than pay?"

"Sir, I could not bear the infamy of letting this scoundrel triumph overme. "

"Well, Ferralti, you are attempting a delicate and dangerous task, butso far as I can, I will help you. "

He took the revolver from his pocket and handed it to his companion. 

"It's loaded in every chamber, " he whispered. "Perhaps it will serveyour purpose better than a knife. "

Ferralti's eyes sparkled. 

"Good!" he exclaimed, concealing the weapon. "I shall watch for myopportunity, so as to make no mistake. Meantime, do you bargain with theDuke, but postpone any agreement to pay. "

"All right, my lad. I'll wait to see what happens. It may add a gooddeal to the cost of that ring, if you fail; but I'll take the chances ofthat for the sake of the game. "

He paused a moment, and then added:

"Is your father really dead, Count?"

"Yes; the Duke has sent me the cablegram he received from his agent. Icannot doubt his authority. My father and I have not been friendly, oflate years. He was a severe man, cold and unsympathetic, but I am sorrywe could not have been reconciled before this awful fate overtook him. However, it is now too late for vain regrets. I tried not to disobey orantagonize my one parent, but he did not understand my nature, andperhaps I failed to understand his. "

He sighed, and rising from his chair walked to the window to conceal hisemotion. 

Uncle John remained silent, and presently Tommaso entered to notify themthat dinner would be served in a half hour, and the Duke expected themto join him at the table. 

The next morning Mr. Merrick bargained pleasantly with his jailer, whoseemed not averse to discussing the matter at length; but no conclusionwas reached. Ferralti took no part in the conversation, but remainedsullen 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 heagreed to give them three days to decide, with the understanding thateach day they delayed would add a goodly sum to their ransom. If at theend of the three days the Americans remained obdurate, he would invitethem to take a little walk, and the affair would be terminated. 

Ferralti hugged his revolver and awaited his opportunity. It seemed toUncle John that he might have had a hundred chances to shoot thebrigand, who merited no better fate than assassination at their hands;but although Ferralti was resolved upon the deed he constantly hesitatedto accomplish it in cold blood, and the fact that he had three daysgrace induced him to put off the matter as long as possible. 

He came to regret most bitterly his indecision; for something in theyoung man's eyes must have put the brigand on his guard. When they awokeon the third morning, which was the fifth since their imprisonment, someone had searched their rooms thoroughly. The revolver and the knife wereboth gone, and the loss rendered them absolutely helpless. 

CHAPTER XX

UNCLE JOHN PLAYS EAVESDROPPER

It now seemed to Uncle John that further resistance to the demands of IlDuca was as useless as it was dangerous. He resented the necessity ofpaying a ransom as much as any man could; but imprisoned as he was in averitable "robbers' den, " without means of communicating with theauthorities or the outside world, and powerless to protect his life fromthe vengeance of the unprincipled scoundrel who held him, the only safeand sane mode of procedure was to give in as gracefully as possible. 

He formed this conclusion during a long walk around the valley, duringwhich he once more noted the absolute seclusion of the place and theimpossibility of escape by scaling the cliffs. The doctor was fishingagain by the brook, but paid no heed when Uncle John tramped by. Thesight of the dapper little man gave Mr. Merrick a thought, andpresently he turned back and sat down beside the fisherman. 

"I want to get out of this, " he said, bluntly. "It was fun, at first, and rather interesting; but I've had enough of it. "

The physician kept his eye on the line and made no reply. 

"I want you to tell me how to escape, " continued Uncle John. "It's nouse saying that it can't be done, for nothing is impossible to a cleverman, such as I believe you to be. "

Still no reply. 

"You spoke, the other day, of earning enough money to go home and livein peace for the rest of your days. Here, sir, is your opportunity toimprove upon that ambition. The brigand is trying to exact a largeransom from me; I'll give it to you willingly--every penny--if you'llshow me how to escape. "

"Why should you do that?" enquired the doctor, still intent upon hisline. "Does it matter to you who gets your money?"

"Of course, " was the prompt reply. "In one case I pay it for a servicerendered, and do it gladly. On the other hand, I am robbed, and thatgoes against the grain. Il Duca has finally decided to demand fiftythousand dollars. It shall be yours, instead, if you give me yourassistance. "

"Signore, " said the other, calmly, "I would like this money, and Iregret that it is impossible for me to earn it. But there is no means ofescape from this place except by the passage through the rocks, whichpassage only three people know the secret of opening--Il Duca himself, the child Tato, and the old Duchessa. Perhaps Tommaso also knows; I amnot certain; but he will not admit he has such knowledge. You see, signore, I am as much a prisoner as yourself. "

"There ought to be some way to climb these cliffs; some secret path orunderground tunnel, " remarked Uncle John, musingly. 

"It is more than a hundred years since this valley was made secure by abrigand ancestor of our Duchessa, " was the reply. "It may be two orthree centuries ago, for all I know. And ever since it has been used forjust this purpose: to hold a prisoner until he was ransomed--and nosuch man has ever left the place alive unless he paid the price. "

"Then you cannot help me?" asked Uncle John, who was weary of hearingthese pessimistic declarations. 

"I cannot even help myself; for I may not resign my position here unlessthe Duke is willing I should go. "

"Good morning, doctor. "

The prisoner returned slowly toward the dwelling, with its group ofouthouses. By chance he found a path leading to the rear of these whichhe had not traversed before, and followed it until he came to a hedge ofthickly set trees of some variety of cactus, which seemed to have beenplanted to form an enclosure. Cautiously pushing aside the branchesbordering a small gap in this hedge, Uncle John discovered a charminggarden lying beyond, so he quickly squeezed himself through the openingand entered. 

The garden was rudely but not badly kept. There was even some attempt atornamentation, and many of the shrubs and flowers were rare andbeautiful. Narrow walks traversed the masses of foliage, and severalleafy bowers invited one to escape the heat of the midday sun in theirshelter. It was not a large place, and struck one as being overcrowdedbecause so many of the plants were taller than a man's head. 

Uncle John turned down one path which, after several curves and turns, came to an abrupt ending beneath the spreading branches of an acaciatree which had been converted into a bower by a thick, climbing vine, whose matted leaves and purple blossoms effectually screened off thegarden beyond. 

While he stood gazing around him to find a way out without retracing hissteps, a clear voice within a few feet of him caused him to start. Thevoice spoke in vehement Italian, and came from the other side of thescreen of vines. It was sharp and garrulous in tone, and although UncleJohn did not understand the words he recognized their dominating accent. 

The Duke replied, slowly and sullenly, and whatever he said had theeffect of rousing the first speaker to fierce anger. 

The American became curious. He found a place where the leaves werethinner than elsewhere, and carefully pressing them apart looked throughthe opening. Beyond was a clear space, well shaded and furnished withcomfortable settles, tables and chairs. It adjoined a wing of thedwelling, which stood but a few paces away and was evidently occupied bythe women of the household. The old Duchessa, her face still like adeath mask but her eyes glittering with the brightness of a serpent's, sat enthroned within a large chair in the center of a family group. Itwas her sharp voice that had first aroused the American's attention. Opposite her sat the Duke, his thin face wearing an expression of gloomand dissatisfaction. The child Tato occupied a stool at her father'sfeet, and in the background were three serving women, sewing orembroidering. Near the Duke stood the tall brigand known as Pietro. 

Answering the old woman's fierce tirade, Tato said:

"It is foolish to quarrel in Italian. The servants are listening. "

"Let us then speak in English, " returned the Duchessa. "These arematters the servants should not gossip about. "

The Duke nodded assent. Both Tato and her grandmother spoke easily theforeign tongue; the Duke was more uncertain in his English, butunderstood it perfectly. 

"I am still the head of this family, " resumed the Duchessa, in a moremoderate tone. "I insist that my will be obeyed. "

"Your dignity I have the respect for, " replied the Duke, laboredly; "butyou grow old and foolish. "

"Foolish! I?"

"Yes; you are absurd. You live in past centuries. You think to-day wemust do all that your ancestors did. "

"Can you do better?"

"Yes; the world has change. It has progress. With it I advance, but youdo not. You would murder, rob, torture to-day as the great Duke, yourgrandfather, did. You think we still are of the world independent. Youthink we are powerful and great. Bah! we are nothing--we are as a speckof dust. But still we are the outlaws and the outcasts of Sicily, andsome day Italy will crush us and we will be forgotten. "

"I dare them to molest us!"

"Because you are imbecile. The world you do not know. I have travel; Isee many countries; and I am wise. "

"But you are still my vassal, my slave; and I alone rule here. Alwayshave you rebelled and wanted to escape. Only my iron will has kept youhere and made you do your duty. "

"Since you my brother Ridolfo killed, I have little stomach for thetrade of brigand. It is true. But no longer is this trade necessary. Weare rich. Had I a son to inherit your business, a different thoughtmight prevail; but I have only Tato, and a girl cannot be a successfulbrigand. "

"Why not?" cried the old Duchessa, contemptuously. "It is thegirl--always the girl--you make excuses for. But have I not ruled ourdomain--I, who am a woman?"

Tato herself answered, in a quiet voice. 

"And what have you become, nonna, more than an outcast?" she enquired. "What use to you is money, or a power that the world would sneer at, didthe world even suspect that you exist? You are a failure in life, mynonna, and I will not be like you. "

The Duchessa screamed an epithet and glared at the child as if she wouldannihilate her; but no fitting words to reply could she find. 

Uncle John smiled delightedly. He felt no sense of humiliation or revoltat eavesdropping in this den of thieves, and to be able to gain so faira revelation of the inner life of this remarkable family was a diversionnot lightly to be foregone. 

"So far, we have managed to escape the law, " resumed the Duke. "Butalways it may not be our fortune to do this, if we continue this life. It is now a good time to stop. Of one American we will gain a quarter ofa million lira--a fortune--and of the other one hundred and fiftythousand lira. With what we already have it is enough and more. Quietlywe will disband our men and go away. In another land we live therespectable life, in peace with all, and Tato shall be the fine lady, and forget she once was a brigand's daughter. "

The child sprang up in glee, and clasping her father's neck with botharms kissed him with passionate earnestness. 

Silently the Duchessa watched the scene. Her face was as pallid andimmobile as ever; even the eyes seemed to have lost expression. But thenext words showed that she was still unconquered. 

"You shall take the money of the fat pig of an American; it is well todo so. But the youth who boldly calls himself Ferralti shall make notribute to this family. He shall die as I have declared. "

"I will not take the risk, " asserted the Duke, sourly. 

"Have the others who lie in the pit told tales?" she demanded. 

"No; but they died alone. Here are two Americans our prisoners, andthey have many and powerful friends, both at Taormina and at Naples. Theman Merrick, when he goes, will tell that Ferralti is here. To obtainhis person, alive or dead, the soldiers will come here and destroy usall. It is folly, and shows you are old and imbecile. "

"Then go!" she cried, fiercely. "Go, you and Tato; take your money andescape. And leave me my valley, and the youth Ferralti, and my revenge. Then, if I die, if the soldiers destroy me, it is my own doing. "

"In this new world, of which you know nothing, escape is not possible, "replied the duke, after a moment's thought. "Ferralti must be accountedfor, and because I captured him they would accuse me of his death, andeven Tato might be made to suffer. No, madame. Both the Americans mustbe killed, or both set free for ransom. "

Uncle John gave a start of dismay. Here was a development he had notexpected. 

"Then, " said the old woman, positively, "let them both die. "

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Tato. "Not that, grandmother!"

"Certainly not so, " agreed the Duke. "We want their money. "

"You are already rich, " said the Duchessa. "You have yourself said so, and I know it is truth. "

"This new world, " explained the Duke, "contains of luxuries many thatyou have no understanding of. To be rich to-day requires more money thanin your days, madre mia. With these ransoms, which already we have won, we shall have enough. Without this money my Tato would lack much that Idesire for her. So of new murders I will take no risk, for the bambina'ssake. "

"And my revenge?"

"Bah, of what use is it? Because the boy's father married my sisterBianca, and ill-treated her, must we kill their offspring?"

"He is his father's son. The father, you say, is dead, and so also is mychild Bianca. Then my hatred falls upon the son Arturo, and he must dieto avenge the wrong to our race. "

"More proof that you are imbecile, " said the Duke, calmly. "He shall notdie. He is nothing to us except a mine from whence to get gold. "

"He is my grandson. I have a right to kill him. "

"He is my nephew. He shall live. "

"Do you defy me?"

"With certainty. I defy you. The new world permits no crazy nonna torule a family. That is my privilege. If you persist, it is you who shallgo to the pit. If you have reason, you shall remain in your garden inpeace. Come, Tato; we will retire. "

He arose and took the child's hand. The old woman sat staring at them insilence, but with an evil glint in her glistening eyes. 

Uncle John turned around and softly made his retreat from the garden. His face wore a startled and horrified expression and on his foreheadstood great beads of sweat that the sultriness of the day did notaccount for. 

But he thought better of Il Duca. 

CHAPTER XXI

THE PIT

They met an hour later at luncheon, all but the Duchessa, who sulked inher garden. Tato was bright and smiling, filled with a suppressed joywhich bubbled up in spite of the little one's effort to be dignified andsedate. When her hand stole under the table to find and press that ofher father, Uncle John beamed upon her approvingly; for he knew what hadoccurred and could sympathize with her delight. 

The Duke, however, was more sombre than usual. He had defied his mother, successfully, so far; but he feared the terrible old woman more than didTato, because he knew more of her history and of the bold and wickeddeeds she had perpetrated in years gone by. Only once had a proposedvictim escaped her, and that was when her own daughter Bianca had fallenin love with an American held for ransom and spirited him away from thevalley through knowledge of the secret passage. It was well Bianca hadfled with her lover; otherwise her mother would surely have killed her. But afterward, when the girl returned to die in the old home, all wasforgiven, and only the hatred of her foreign husband, whose cruelty haddriven her back to Sicily, remained to rankle in the old Duchessa'swicked heart. 

No one knew her evil nature better than her son. He entertained asuspicion that he had not conquered her by his recent opposition to herwill. Indeed, he would never have dared to brave her anger except forTato's sake. Tato was his idol, and in her defense the cowardly brigandhad for the moment become bold. 

Tato laughed and chatted with Uncle John all through the meal, eventrying at times to cheer the doleful Ferralti, who was nearly as glumand unsociable as her father. The servants and brigands at the lower endof the table looked upon the little one admiringly. It was evident shewas a general favorite. 

On the porch, after luncheon, the Duke broached the subject of theransoms again, still maintaining the fable of selling his antiquejewelry. 

"Sir, " said Uncle John, "I'm going to submit gracefully, but upon onecondition. "

The Duke scowled. 

"I allow no conditions, " he said. 

"You'd better allow this one, " Uncle John replied, "because it will makeit easier for all of us. Of my own free will and accord I will make apresent to Tato of fifty thousand dollars, and she shall have it for herdowry when she marries. "

Tato clapped her hands. 

"How did you know I am a girl, when I wear boys' clothes?" she asked. 

Even the duke smiled, at that, but the next moment he shook his headsolemnly. 

"It will not do, signore, " he declared, answering Uncle John'sproposition. "This is a business affair altogether. You must purchasethe ring, and at once. "

The little American sighed. It had been his last hope. 

"Very well, " he said; "have your own way. "

"You will send to your friends for the money?"

"Whenever you say, Duke. You've got me in a hole, and I must wiggle outthe best way I can. "

The brigand turned to Ferralti. 

"And you, signore?" he asked. 

"I do not know whether I can get the money you demand. "

"But you will make the attempt, as I shall direct?"

"Yes. "

"Then, signori, it is all finished. In a brief time you will leave myhospitable roof. "

"The sooner the better, " declared Ferralti. 

They sat for a time in silence, each busy with his thoughts. 

"Go to your grandmother, Tato, " said the Duke, "and try to make yourpeace with her. If she is too angry, do not remain. To-morrow you mustgo into town with letters from these gentlemen to their friends. "

The child kissed him and went obediently to do his will. Then thebrigand spoke to Tommaso, who brought writing material from the houseand placed it upon a small table. 

Uncle John, without further demur, sat down to write. The Duke dictatedwhat he should say, although he was allowed to express the words in hisown characteristic style, and he followed his instructions implicitly, secretly admiring the shrewdness of the brigand's methods. 

It was now Ferralti's turn. He had just seated himself at the table andtaken the pen when they were startled by a shrill scream from the rearof the house. It was followed by another, and another, in quicksuccession. 

It was Tato's voice, and the duke gave an answering cry and sprang fromthe veranda to dart quickly around the corner of the house. Uncle Johnfollowed him, nearly as fearful as the child's father. 

Tommaso seized a short rifle that stood near and ran around the house inthe other direction, when Ferralti, who for a moment had seemed dazed bythe interruption, followed Tommaso rather than the others. 

As they came to the rear they were amazed to see the old Duchessa, whomthey had known to be feeble and dependent upon her women, rush throughthe garden hedge with the agility of a man, bearing in her arms thestruggling form of little Tato. 

The child screamed pitifully, but the woman glared upon Tommaso andFerralti, as she passed them, with the ferocity of a tiger. 

"She is mad!" cried Ferralti. "Quick, Tommaso; let us follow her. "

The brigand bounded forward, with the young man scarce a pace behindhim. The woman, running with wonderful speed in spite of her burden, began to ascend a narrow path leading up the face of a rugged cliff. 

A yell of anguish from behind for a moment arrested Ferralti's rapidpursuit. Glancing back he saw the Duke running frantically toward them, at the same time waving his arms high above his head. 

"The pit!" he shouted. "She is making for the pit. Stop her, for thelove of God!"

Ferralti understood, and dashed forward again at full speed. Tommasoalso understood, for his face was white and he muttered terrible oathsas he pressed on. Yet run as they might, the mad duchessa was inspiredwith a strength so superhuman that she kept well in advance. 

But the narrow path ended half way up the cliff. It ended at a deepchasm in the rocks, the edge of which was protected by a large flatstone, like the curb of a well. 

With a final leap the old woman gained this stone, and while thedreadful pit yawned at her feet she turned, and with a demoniacal laughfaced her pursuers, hugging the child close to her breast. 

Tommaso and Ferralti, who were nearest, paused instinctively. It was nowimpossible for them to prevent the tragedy about to be enacted. TheDuke, spurred on by fear, was yet twenty paces in their rear, and in amoment he also stopped, clasping his hands in a gesture of vainentreaty. 

"Listen, Lugui!" his mother called to him, in a dear, high voice. "Thisis the child that has come between us and turned you from a man into acoward. Here alone is the cause of our troubles. Behold! I will removeit forever from our path. "

With the words she lifted Tato high above her head and turned toward thepit--that terrible cleft in the rocks which was believed to have nobottom. 

At her first movement Tommaso had raised his gun, and the Duke, perceiving this, called to him in an agonized voice to fire. But eitherthe brigand wavered between his loyalty to the Duke or the Duchessa, orhe feared to injure Tato, for he hesitated to obey and the moments wereprecious. 

The child's fate hung in the balance when Ferralti snatched the weaponfrom the brigand's hands and fired it so hastily that he scarcely seemedto take aim. 

A wild cry echoed the shot. The woman collapsed and fell, dropping Tatoat her feet, where they both tottered at the edge of the pit. The child, however, clung desperately to the outer edge of the flat stone, whilethe Duchessa's inert form seemed to hesitate for an instant and thendisappeared from view. 

Tommaso ran forward and caught up the child, returning slowly along thepath to place it in the father's arms. Ferralti was looking vaguely fromthe weapon he held to the pit, and then back again, as if not fullyunderstanding what he had done. 

"Thank you, signore, " said the Duke, brokenly, "for saving my preciouschild. "

"But I have slain your mother!" cried the young man, horrified. 

"The obligation is even, " replied the duke. "She was also yourgrandmother. "

Ferralti stood motionless, his face working convulsively, his tonguerefusing to utter a sound. 

"But he did not shoot my grandmother at all, " said Tato, who was sobbingagainst her father's breast; "for I heard the bullet strike the rockbeside us. My grandmother's strength gave way, and she fainted. It wasthat that saved me, padre mia. "

CHAPTER XXII

NEWS AT LAST

Kenneth Forbes had always been an unusual boy. He had grown up in anunfriendly atmosphere, unloved and uncared for, and resented thisneglect with all the force of his impetuous nature. He had hated AuntJane, and regarded her as cruel and selfish--a fair estimate of hercharacter--until Aunt Jane's nieces taught him to be more considerateand forgiving. Patricia, especially, had exercised a gentler influenceupon the arbitrary youth, and as a consequence they had become staunchfriends. 

When the unexpected inheritance of a fortune changed the boy's conditionfrom one of dependence to one of importance he found he had no longerany wrongs to resent; therefore his surly and brusque moods graduallydisappeared, and he became a pleasant companion to those he cared for. With strangers he still remained reserved and suspicious, andoccasionally the old sullen fits would seize him and it was well toavoid his society while they lasted. 

On his arrival at Taormina, Kenneth had entered earnestly into thesearch for Uncle John, whom he regarded most affectionately; and, havingpassed the day tramping over the mountains, he would fill the eveningwith discussions and arguments with the nieces concerning the fate oftheir missing uncle. 

But as the days dragged wearily away the search slackened and wasfinally abandoned. Kenneth set up his easel in the garden and began topaint old Etna, with its wreath of snow and the soft gray cloud of vaporthat perpetually hovered over it. 

"Anyone with half a soul could paint that!" said Patsy; and as a proofof her assertion the boy did very well indeed, except that hisuneasiness on Mr. Merrick's account served to distract him more or less. 

Nor was Kenneth the only uneasy one. Mr. Watson, hard-headed man ofresource as he was, grew more and more dejected as he realized theimpossibility of interesting the authorities in the case. The Sicilianofficials were silent and uncommunicative; the Italians whollyindifferent. If strangers came to Taormina and got into difficulties, the government was in no way to blame. It was their duty to toleratetourists, but those all too energetic foreigners must take care ofthemselves. 

Probably Mr. Watson would have cabled the State Department at Washingtonfor assistance had he not expected each day to put him in communicationwith his friend, and in the end he congratulated himself upon hispatience. The close of the week brought a sudden and startling change inthe situation. 

The girls sat on the shaded terrace one afternoon, watching the pictureof Etna grow under Kenneth's deft touches, when they observed a childapproaching them with shy diffidence. It was a beautiful Sicilian boy, with wonderful brown eyes and a delicate profile. After assuring himselfthat the party of young Americans was quite separate from any stragglingguest of the hotel, the child came near enough to say, in a low tone:

"I have a message from Signor Merrick. "

They crowded around him eagerly then, raining questions from every side;but the boy shrank away and said, warningly:

"If we are overheard, signorini mia, it will be very bad. No one mustsuspect that I am here. "

"Is my uncle well?" asked Patsy, imploringly. 

"Quite well, mees. "

"And have you also news of Count Ferralti?" anxiously enquired Louise. 

"Oh, Ferralti? He is better. Some teeth are knocked out, but he eatsvery well without them, " replied the child, with an amused laugh. 

"Where are our friends, my lad?" Kenneth asked. 

"I cannot describe the place, signore; but here are letters to explainall. " The child produced a bulky package, and after a glance at each, inturn, placed it in Patsy's hands. "Read very secretly, signorini, anddecide your course of action. To-morrow I will come for your answer. Inthe meantime, confide in no one but yourselves. If you are indiscreet, you alone will become the murderers of Signor Merrick and the sad youngFerralti. "

"Who are you?" asked Beth, examining the child closely. 

"I am called Tato, signorina mia. "

"Where do you live?"

"It is all explained in the letters, believe me. "

Beth glanced at Patricia, who was examining the package, and now allcrowded around for a glimpse of Uncle John's well-known handwriting. Thewrapper was inscribed:

 _"To Miss Doyle, Miss De Graf and Miss Merrick, _ _Hotel Castello-a-Mare, Taormina. _ _By the safe hands of Tato. "_

Inside were two letters, one addressed to Louise personally. She seizedthis and ran a little distance away, while Beth took Uncle John's letterfrom Patsy's trembling hands, and having opened it read aloud in aclear and composed voice the following:

 "My dear Nieces: (and also my dear friends, Silas Watson and Kenneth Forbes, if they are with you) Greeting! You have perhaps been wondering at my absence, which I will explain by saying that I am visiting a noble acquaintance in a very cozy and comfortable retreat which I am sure would look better from a distance. My spirits and health are A No. 1 and it is my intention to return to you as soon as you have executed a little commission for me, which I want you to do exactly as I hereby instruct you. In other words, if you don't execute the commission you will probably execute me. 

 "I have decided to purchase a valuable antique ring from my host, at a price of fifty thousand dollars, which trifling sum I must have at once to complete the transaction, for until full payment is made I cannot rejoin you. Therefore you must hasten to raise the dough. Here's the programme, my dear girls: One of you must go by first train to Messina and cable Isham, Marvin & Co. To deposit with the New York correspondents of the Banca Commerciale Italiana fifty thousand dollars, and have instructions cabled to the Messina branch of that bank to pay the sum to the written order of John Merrick. This should all be accomplished within twenty-four hours. Present the enclosed order, together with my letter of credit and passport, which will identify my signature, and draw the money in cash. Return with it to Taormina and give it secretly to the boy Tato, who will bring it to me. I will rejoin you within three hours after I have paid for the ring. 

 "This may seem a strange proceeding to you, my dears, but you must not hesitate to accomplish it--if you love me. Should my old friend Silas Watson be now with you, as I expect him to be, he will assist you to do my bidding, for he will be able to realize, better than I can now explain, how important it is to me. 

 "Also I beg you to do a like service for Count Ferralti, who is entrusting his personal commission, to Louise. He also must conclude an important purchase before he can return to Taormina. 

 "More than this I am not permitted to say in this letter. Confide in no stranger, or official of any sort, and act as secretly and quietly as possible. I hope soon to be with you. 

 "Very affectionately, UNCLE JOHN. "

"What does it all mean?" asked Patsy, bewildered, when Beth had finishedreading. 

"Why, it is clear enough, I'm sure, " said Kenneth. "Uncle John isimprisoned by brigands, and the money he requires is his ransom. We mustget it as soon as possible, you know, and luckily he is so rich that hewon't miss this little draft at all. "

Beth sat silent, angrily staring at the letter. 

"I suppose, " said Patsy, hesitating, "the robbers will do the dear unclesome mischief, if he doesn't pay. "

"Just knock him on the head, that's all, " said the boy. "But there's noneed to worry. We can get the money easily. "

Suddenly Beth jumped up. 

"Where's that girl?" she demanded, sharply. 

"What girl?"

"Tato. "

"Tato, my dear coz, is a boy, " answered Kenneth; "and he disappearedages ago. "

"You must be blind, " said Beth, scornfully, "not to recognize a girlwhen 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 thosebrigands, I suppose. "

"Looks something like Victor Valdi, " said Patsy, thoughtfully. 

"Il Duca? Of course! I see it myself, now. Patricia, it is that wickedduke who has captured Uncle John. "

"I had guessed that, " declared Patsy, smiling. 

"He must be a handsome rascal, " observed Kenneth, "for the child ispretty as a picture. "

"He isn't handsome at all, " replied Beth; "but there is a look about thechild's eyes that reminds me of him. "

"That's it, exactly, " agreed Patsy. 

Louise now approached them with a white, frightened face. 

"Isn't it dreadful!" she moaned. "They are going to kill Ferralti unlesshe gives them thirty thousand dollars. "

"And I don't believe he can raise thirty cents, " said Patsy, calmly. 

"Oh, yes, he can, " answered Louise, beginning to cry. "Hi--his--fatheris d--dead, and has left him--a--fortune. "

"Don't blubber, Lou, " said the boy, chidingly; "in that case your dagofriend is as well off as need be. But I suppose you're afraid theno-account Count won't figure his life is worth thirty thousand dollars. It does seem like an awful price to pay for a foreigner. "

"It isn't that, " said Louise, striving to control her emotion. "He sayshe hates to be robbed. He wouldn't pay a penny if he could help it. "

"Good for the Count! I don't blame him a bit, " exclaimed Beth. "It is abeastly shame that free born Americans should be enslaved by a crew ofthieving Sicilians, and obliged to purchase their freedom!"

"True for you, " said Kenneth, nodding. "But what are we going to doabout it?"

"Pay, of course, " decided Patsy, promptly. "Our Uncle John is tooprecious to be sacrificed for all the money in the world. Come; let's goand find Mr. Watson. We ought not to lose a moment's time. "

The lawyer read Uncle John's letter carefully, as well as the one fromCount Ferralti, which Louise confided to him with the request that hekeep the young man's identity a secret for a time, until he could revealit to her cousins in person. 

"The only thing to be done, " announced Mr. Watson, "is to carry outthese instructions faithfully. We can send the cable messages from here, and in the morning Louise and I will take the train for Messina andremain there until we get the money. "

"It's an outrage!" cried Beth. 

"Of course, my dear. But it can't be helped. And your uncle is wise totake the matter so cheerfully. After all, it is little enough to payfor one's life and liberty, and our friend is so wealthy that he willnever feel the loss at all. "

"It isn't that; it's the principle of the thing that I object to, " saidthe girl. "It's downright disgraceful to be robbed so easily. "

"To be sure; but the disgrace is Italy's, not ours. Object all you wantto, Beth, dear, " continued the old lawyer, smiling at her; "butnevertheless we'll pay as soon as possible, and have done with it. Whatwe want now is your Uncle John, and we want him mighty badly. "

"Really, the pirates didn't charge enough for him, " added Patsy. 

So Mr. Watson sent the cables to John Merrick's bankers and CountFerralti'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 thevictoria with Patricia and Kenneth, suddenly stood up to pull the_vetturino's_ sleeve. 

"Tell me, Frascatti, " she whispered, "isn't that Il Duca's child?Look--that little one standing in the corner?"

"Why, yes; it is really Tato, " answered the man, before he thought todeny it. 

"Very well; you may now drive us home, " returned Beth, a shade oftriumph in her voice. 

CHAPTER XXIII

BETH BEGINS TO PLOT

Once back in their sitting-room behind closed doors, Beth, Patsy andKenneth got their three heads together and began eagerly to discuss aplot which Beth had hinted of on the way home and now unfolded indetail. And while they still whispered together a knock at the doorstartled them and made them look rather guilty until the boy answeredthe call and admitted little Tato. 

The child's beautiful face wore a smile of demure satisfaction as Tatobowed respectfully to the young Americans. 

Kenneth winked at Beth from behind the visitor's back. 

"As you have a guest, " he remarked, with a yawn that was somewhat rude, "I shall now go and take my nap. "

"What, do you sleep so early in the day, you lazy-bones?" asked Patsy, brightly. 

"Any time, my dear, is good enough for an overworked artist, " hereplied. "Au revoir, my cousins. See you at luncheon. "

With this he strolled away, and when he had gone Beth said to Tato:

"Won't you sit down, signorina?"

"Do you mean me?" asked the child, as if surprised. 

"Yes; I can see plainly that you are a girl. "

"And a pretty one, too, my dear, " added Patsy. 

Tato blushed as if embarrassed, but in a moment smiled upon the Americangirls. 

"Do you think me immodest, then?" she asked, anxiously. 

"By no means, my dear, " Beth assured her. "I suppose you have anexcellent reason for wearing boys' clothes. "

"So I have, signorina. I live in the mountains, where dresses catch inthe crags, and bother a girl. And my father has always been heart-brokenbecause he had no son, and likes to see me in this attire. He has manyerrands for me, too, where a boy may go unnoticed, yet a girl wouldattract too much attention. This is one of the errands, signorini. Butnow tell me, if you please, how have you decided to answer the lettersof Signor Merrick and Signor Ferralti?"

"Oh, there was but one way to answer them, Tato, " replied Beth, composedly. "We have sent Mr. Watson and our cousin Louise Merrick toMessina to get the money. If our friends in America act promptly Mr. Watson and Louise will return by to-morrow afternoon's train, and beprepared to make the payment. "

"That is well, signorina, " responded Tato. 

"We are to give the money to you, I suppose?" said Patsy. 

"Yes; I will return for it to-morrow afternoon, " answered the child, with business-like gravity. Then she looked earnestly from one to theother of the two girls. "You must act discreetly, in the meantime, youknow. You must not talk to anyone, or do anything to imperil youruncle's safety. "

"Of course not, Tato. "

"I beg you not, signorini. The uncle is a good man, and brave. I do notwish him to be injured. "

"Nor do we, Tato. "

"And the young man is not a coward, either. He has been kind to me. Buthe is sad, and not so pleasant to talk with as the uncle. "

"True enough, Tato, " said Beth. 

Patsy had been examining the child with curious intentness. The littleone was so lovely and graceful, and her voice sounded so soft andwomanly, that Patsy longed to take her in her arms and hug her. 

"How old are you, dear?" she asked. 

Tato saw the friendly look, and answered with a smile. 

"Perhaps as old as you, signorina, although I am so much smaller. Ishall be fifteen in a month. "

"So old!"

Tato laughed merrily. 

"Ah, you might well say 'so young, ' amico mia! To be grown up is muchnicer; do you not think so? And then I shall not look such a baby asnow, and have people scold me when I get in the way, as they do littlebambini. "

"But when you are grown you cannot wear boys' clothing, either. "

Tato sighed. 

"We have a saying in Sicily that 'each year has its sunshine and rain, 'which means its sorrow and its joy, " she answered. "Perhaps I sometimesthink more of the tears than of the laughter, although I know that iswrong. Not always shall I be a mountaineer, and then the soft dresses ofthe young girls shall be my portion. Will I like them better? I do notknow. But I must go now, instead of chattering here. Farewell, signorini, until to-morrow. "

"Will you not remain with us?"

"Oh, no; although you are kind. I am expected home. But to-morrow I willcome for the money. You will be silent?"

"Surely, Tato. "

The child smiled upon them pleasantly. It was a relief to deal with twotender girls instead of cold and resentful men, such as she hadsometimes met. At the door she blew a kiss to them, and darted away. 

In the courtyard Frascatti saw her gliding out and discreetly turned hishead the other way. 

Tato took the old road, circling around the theatre and through thenarrow, winding streets of the lower town to the Catania Gate. Shelooked back one or twice, but no one noticed her. If any of thevillagers saw her approaching they slipped out of her path. 

Once on the highway, however, Tato became lost in reflection. Hermission being successfully accomplished, it required no further thought;but the sweet young American girls had made a strong impression upon thelonely Sicilian maid, and she dreamed of their pretty gowns and ribbons, their fresh and comely faces, and the gentleness of their demeanor. 

Tato was not gentle. She was wild and free and boyish, and had no prettygowns whatever. But what then? She must help her father to get hisfortune, and then he had promised her that some day they would go toParis or Cairo and live in the world, and be brigands no longer. 

She would like that, she thought, as she clambered up the steep paths;and perhaps she would meet these American girls again, or others likethem, and make them her friends. She had never known a girl friend, asyet. 

These ambitions would yesterday have seemed far in the dim future; butnow that her stern old grandmother was gone it was possible her fatherwould soon fulfill his promises. While the Duchessa lived she ruled themall, and she was a brigand to the backbone. Now her father's willprevailed, and he could refuse his child nothing. 

Kenneth was not an expert detective, but he had managed to keep Tato insight without being suspected by her. He had concealed himself near theCatania Gate, through which he knew she must pass, and by good luck shehad never looked around once, so intent were her musings. 

When she came to the end of the path and leaned against the rock to singthe broken refrain which was the "open sesame" to the valley, the boywas hidden snug behind a boulder where he could watch her everymovement. 

Then the rock opened; Tato passed in, and the opening closed behind her. 

Kenneth found a foothold and climbed up the wall of rock, higher andhigher, until at last he crept upon a high ridge and looked over. 

The hidden valley lay spread before him in all its beauty, but theprecipice at his feet formed a sheer drop of a hundred feet or more, andhe drew back with a shudder. 

Then he took courage to look again, and observed the house, on the porchof which stood Tato engaged in earnest conversation with a tall, darkSicilian. Uncle John was nowhere to be seen, but the boy understood thathe was there, nevertheless, and realized that his prison was so securethat escape was impossible. 

And now he climbed down again, a much more difficult feat than gettingup. But although he was forced to risk his life several times, he wasagile and clear-headed, and finally dropped to the path that led to thesecret door of the passage. 

His next thought was to mark the exact location of the place, so that hecould find it again; and as he returned slowly along the paths throughthe rocky fissures he took mental note of every curve and communication, and believed he could now find his way to the retreat of the brigands atany time he chose. 

CHAPTER XXIV

PATSY'S NEW FRIEND

"I must say that I don't like the job, " said Patsy, the next morning, asshe stood by the window and faced Beth and Kenneth. "Suppose we fail?"

"In the bright lexicon of youth--"

"Shut up, Ken. If we fail, " said Beth, "we will be no worse off thanbefore. "

"And if we win, " added the boy, "they'll think twice before they try torob Americans again. "

"Well, I'm with you, anyhow, " declared Patricia. "I can see it's risky, all right; but as you say, no great harm will be done if we slip up. "

"You, " announced Beth, gravely, "must be the captain. "

"It isn't in me, dear. You figured the thing out, and Ken and I willfollow your lead. "

"No, " said Beth, decidedly; "I'm not quick enough, either in thought oraction, to be a leader, Patsy. And there's a bit of deception requiredthat I couldn't manage. That clever little thing, Tato, would know atonce I was up to some mischief; but she would never suspect you. "

"I like that compliment, " replied Patricia. "I may deserve it, ofcourse; but it strikes me Louise is the one best fitted for such work. "

"We can't let Louise into this plot, " said the boy, positively; "she'dspoil it all. "

"Don't be silly, Patsy, " said Beth. "You're genuine and frank, and thechild likes you. I could see that yesterday. All you have to do is to benice to her and win her confidence; and then, when the climax comes, youmust be the spokesman and talk straight out from the shoulder. You cando that all right. "

"I'll bet on her, " cried Kenneth, with an admiring look at the girl. 

"Then, " said Patsy, "it is all arranged, and I'm the captain. And is itagreed that we won't lisp a word to Mr. Watson or Louise?"

"Not a word. "

"Here, " said Kenneth, drawing a revolver from his pocket, "is UncleJohn's pop-gun. It's the only one I could find in his room, so he musthave taken the other with him. Be careful of it, Patsy, for it's loadedall 'round. Can you shoot?"

"No; but I suppose the pistol can. I know enough to pull the trigger. "

"And when you do, remember to point it away from your friends. Now hideit, my dear, and be careful of it. "

Patsy concealed the weapon in the bosom of her dress, not without makinga wry face and shivering a bit. 

"Have you got your revolver, Beth?" asked the boy. 

"Yes. "

"And she can shoot just wonderfully!" exclaimed Patsy. "Yesterday shepicked an orange off a tree with a bullet. You should have seen her. "

"I know, " said Ken, nodding. "I've seen Beth shoot before, and she's ourmain reliance in this conspiracy. For my part, I can hit a marksometimes, and sometimes I can't. See here. " He exhibited a beautifulpearl and silver-mounted weapon which he drew from his pocket. "Mr. Watson and I have carried revolvers ever since we came to Sicily, butwe've never had occasion to use them. I can hardly believe, even now, that this beautiful place harbors brigands. It's such a romanticincident in our prosaic world of to-day. And now, young ladies, we arearmed to the teeth and can defy an army. Eh, Captain Pat?"

"If you're not more respectful, " said the girl, "I'll have youcourt-marshalled and drummed out of camp. "

On the afternoon train came Louise and Mr. Watson from Messina. TheAmerican agents had responded promptly, and the bank had honored theorders and delivered the money without delay. 

"It is all safe in my satchel, " said the lawyer, as they rode togetherto the hotel; "and our dear friends are as good as rescued already. It'spretty bulky, Kenneth--four hundred thousand lira--but it is all innotes on the Banca d'Italia, for we couldn't manage gold. "

"Quite a haul for the brigand, " observed Kenneth, thoughtfully. 

"True; but little enough for the lives of two men. That is the way Ilook at the transaction. And, since our friends can afford the loss, wemust be as cheerful over the thing as possible. It might have been atragedy, you know. "

Louise shivered. 

"I'm glad it is all over, " she said, gratefully. 

The conspirators looked at one another and smiled, but held their peace. 

Arriving at the hotel, Beth and Kenneth at once disappeared, saying theywere going to town, as they would not be needed longer. Patsyaccompanied their cousin and the lawyer to the sitting-room, wherepresently Tato came to them. 

"Well, little one, " said the lawyer, pleasantly, "We have secured themoney required to enable Mr. Merrick to purchase the ring, andMr. --er--Count Ferralti to buy his bracelet. Will you count it?"

"Yes, signore, if you please, " replied Tato, with a sober face. 

Mr. Watson drew out two packages of bank notes and placed them upon thetable. The child, realizing the importance of the occasion, carefullycounted each bundle, and then replaced the wrappers. 

"The amounts are correct, signore, " she said. "I thank you for making mytask so easy. And now I will go. "

The lawyer brought a newspaper and wrapped the money in it once again. 

"It is always dangerous to carry so much money, " said he; "but now noone will be likely to suspect the contents of your package. "

Tato smiled. 

"No one would care to molest me, " she said; "for they fear those thatprotect me. Good afternoon, signore. Your friends will be with you intime to dine in your company. Good afternoon, signorini, " turning toPatsy and Louise. 

"I'll walk a little way with you; may I?" asked Patsy, smiling intoTato's splendid eyes. 

"To be sure, signorina, " was the quick response. 

Patricia caught up a sunshade and followed the child out at the sideentrance, which was little used. Tato took the way along the old road, and Patsy walked beside her, chatting brightly of the catacombs, theNorman villa that showed its checkered tower above the trees and theancient wall that still hemmed in the little village. 

"I love Taormina, " she said, earnestly, "and shall be sorry to leave it. You must be very happy, Tato, to be able to live here always. "

"It is my birthplace, " she said; "but I long to get away from it and seeother countries. The view is fine, they say; but it tires me. The air issweet and pure; but it oppresses me. The climate is glorious; but I havehad enough of it. In other places there is novelty, and many things thatSicily knows nothing of. "

"That is true, " replied Patsy, tucking the little one's arm underneathher own, with a sympathetic gesture. "I know just how you feel, Tato. You must come to America some day, and visit me. I will make you verywelcome, dear, and you shall be my friend. "

The child looked into her face earnestly. 

"You do not hate me, signorina, because--because--"

"Because why?"

"Because my errand to you has been so lawless and--and--unfriendly?"

"Ah, Tato, you do not choose this life, do you?"

"No, signorina. "

"It is forced on you by circumstances, is it not?"

"Truly, signorina. "

"I know. You would not long so wistfully to change your condition if youenjoyed being a little brigand. But nothing that has passed mustinterfere with our friendship, dear. If I were in your place, you see, Iwould do just as you have done. It is not a very honest life, Tato, norone to be proud of; but I'm not going to blame you one bit. "

They had passed the Catania Gate and reached the foot of one of themountain paths. Tato paused, hesitatingly. 

"Oh, I'll go a little farther, " said Patsy, promptly. "No one willnotice two girls, you know. Shall I carry your parcel for a time?"

"No, " replied the child, hugging it close with her disengaged arm. Butshe offered no objection when Patsy continued to walk by her side. 

"Have you any brothers or sisters, Tato?"

"No, signorina. "

"Have you a mother?"

"No, signorina. My father and I are alone. "

"I know him well, Tato. We were on the ship together, crossing theocean. He was gruff and disagreeable, but I made him talk to me andsmile. "

"I know; he has told me of the Signorina Patsy. He is fond of you. "

"Yet he robbed my uncle. "

The child flushed, and drew away her arm. 

"That is it. That is why you should hate me, " she replied, bitterly. "Iknow it is robbery, and brigandage, although my father masks it bysaying he sells antiques. Until now I have seen nothing wrong in thislife, signorina; but you have made me ashamed. "

"Why, dear?"

"Because you are so good and gentle, and so forgiving. "

Patsy laughed. 

"In reality, Tato, I am resentful and unforgiving. You will find out, soon, that I am a very human girl, and then I will not make you ashamed. But your father's business is shameful, nevertheless. "

Tato was plainly puzzled, and knew not what to reply. But just then theyreached the end of the crevasse, and the child said:

"You must return now, Signorina Patsy. "

"But why cannot I go on with you, and come back with my uncle?"

Tato hesitated. Accustomed as she was to duplicity and acting, in hercapacity as lure for her thieving father, the child was just nowsoftened by Patsy's kindly manner and the successful accomplishment ofher mission. She had no thought of any treachery or deception on thepart of the American girl, and the request seemed to her naturalenough. 

"If you like, " she decided, "you may come as far as the barrier, andthere wait for your uncle. It will not be long. "

"Very well, dear. "

Tato clambered over the dividing rock and dropped into the path beyond. Patsy sprang lightly after her. A short distance farther and theyreached the barrier. 

"This is the place, signorina. You will sit upon that stone, and waituntil your uncle appears. " She hesitated, and then added, softly: "I maynot see you again. But you will not forget me?"

"Never, Tato. And if you come to America you must not forget to visitme. Remember, whatever happens, that we are friends, and must alwaysremain so. "

The child nodded, gratefully. Then, leaning against the face of thecliff, she raised her voice and warbled clearly the bit of song thatserved as the signal to her father. 

CHAPTER XXV

TURNING THE TABLES

No sooner had the notes ceased than Kenneth sprang from behind a rockthat had concealed him and grasped the child in his strong arms, tryingto cover her mouth at the same time to prevent her from crying out. 

Tato developed surprising strength. The adventure of yesterday had sothoroughly frightened her that when she found herself again seized shestruggled madly. The boy found that he could scarcely hold her, so heenfolded her in both his arms and, letting her scream as she might, picked up her tiny form and mounted the slope of the hill, leaping fromrock to rock until he came to a broad boulder twenty feet or more abovethe path. Here he paused, panting, and awaited results. 

The rock doors had opened promptly. Even while Kenneth struggled withthe brigand's daughter Patsy could see straight through the tunnel andinto the valley beyond. The child had dropped her bundle in the effortto escape, and while Kenneth was leaping with her up the crags Patsy ranforward and secured the money, returning quickly to her position facingthe tunnel. 

And now they heard shouts and the sound of hastening feet as Il Duca ranfrom the tunnel, followed closely by two of his brigands. They paused amoment at the entrance, as if bewildered, but when the father saw hischild in the grasp of a stranger and heard her screams he answered witha roar of fury and prepared to scramble up the rock to rescue her. 

That was where Patsy showed her mettle. She hastily covered the brigandwith her revolver and shouted warningly:

"Stop, or you are a dead man!"

It was wonderfully dramatic and effective. 

Il Duca shrank back, scowling, for he had no weapon at hand. Leaningagainst the entrance to his valley he glared around to determine thenumber of his foes and the probable chance of defeating them. 

Kenneth laughed boyishly at his discomfiture. Kneeling down, the youthgrasped Tato by both wrists and lowered her body over the edge of therock so that her feet just touched a little ledge beneath. He continuedto hold fast to her wrists, though, and there she remained, stretchedagainst the face of the rock fronting the path, in full view of all, butstill unable to move. 

From this exasperating sight Il Duca glanced at Patsy. She was holdingthe revolver rigidly extended, and her blue eyes blazed with theexcitement of the moment. It was a wonder she did not pull the triggerinadvertently, and the thought that she might do so caused the brigandto shudder. 

Turning half around he beheld a third enemy quietly seated upon therocks directly across the path from Kenneth, her pose unconcerned as sherested her chin lightly upon her left hand. It was Beth, who held herrevolver nonchalantly and gazed upon the scene below her with calminterest. 

The Duke gave a cough to clear his throat. His men hung back of him, silent and motionless, for they did not like this absolute and dangerousdefiance of their chief. 

"Tell me, then, Tato, " he called in English, "what is the cause of thistrouble?"

"I do not know, my father, except that these are friends of SignorMerrick who have secretly followed me here. "

The carefully arranged programme gave Patsy a speech at this point, butshe had entirely forgotten it. 

"Let me explain, " said Beth, coldly. "You have dared to detain in yourrobbers' den the persons of Mr. Merrick and Count Ferralti. You havealso demanded a ransom for their release. That is brigandage, which isdenounced by the laws of Sicily. We have appealed to the authorities, but they are helpless to assist us. Therefore, being Americans, we havedecided to assist ourselves. We command you to deliver to us on thisspot, safe and uninjured, the persons of our friends, and that withoutany unnecessary delay. "

The Duke listened with a sneer. 

"And if we refuse, signorina?"

"If you refuse--if you do not obey at once--I swear that I will shootyour child, Tato, whose body yonder awaits my bullet. And afterward Ishall kill you. "

As she spoke she levelled the revolver and aimed it carefully at theexposed body of the child. 

The brigand paled, and grasped the rock to steady himself. 

"Bah! No girl can shoot from that distance, " he exclaimed, scornfully. 

"Indeed! Take care of your finger, " called Beth, and a shot echoedsharply along the mountain side. 

The brigand jumped and uttered a yell, at the same time whipping hisright hand underneath his left arm; for Beth's bullet had struck one ofhis fingers and then flattened itself against the cliff. 

That settled all argument, as far as Il Duca was concerned; for he nowhad ample evidence that the stern-eyed girl above him could shoot, andwas not to be trifled with. All his life he had ruled by the terror ofhis threats; to-day he was suddenly vanquished by a determination hedared not withstand. 

"Enough!" he cried. "Have your way. "

He spoke to his men in Italian, and they hastened through the tunnel, glad to escape. 

Following their departure there was a brief silence, during which allstood alert. Then, Tato, still half suspended against the cliff, said ina clear, soft voice:

"Father, if you think you can escape, let them shoot me, and keep yourprisoners. The money for their ransom I brought to this place, and theywill pay it even yet to save their friends from your vengeance. Do notlet these wild Americans defeat us, I beg of you. I am not afraid. Saveyourself, and let them shoot me, if they will!"

Kenneth afterward declared that he thought "the jig was up" then, forthey had no intention whatever of harming Tato. It was all merely a bitof American "bluff, " and it succeeded because the brigand was a coward, and dared not emulate his daughter's courage. 

"No, no, Tato!" cried the Duke, brokenly, as he wrung his hands inanguish. "There is more money to be had, but I have only one child. Theyshall not harm a hair of your head, my pretty one!"

Patsy wanted to yell "bravo!" but wisely refrained. Her eyes were fullof tears, though, and her resolution at ebb tide. 

Fortunately the men had made haste. They returned with surprisingpromptness, pushing the amazed prisoners before them. 

Uncle John, as he emerged from the tunnel, looked around upon the tragicscene and gasped:

"Well, I declare!"

Count Ferralti was more composed, if equally surprised. He lifted hishat politely to Beth and Patsy, and smiled with great satisfaction. 

"You are free, " said Il Duca, harshly. "Go!"

They lost no time in getting the brigands between themselves and themouth of the tunnel, and then Kenneth gently drew Tato to a place besidehim and assisted her to clamber down the path. 

"Good bye, little one, " he said, pleasantly; "you're what we call a'brick' in our country. I like you, and I'm proud of you. "

Tato did not reply. With streaming eyes she was examining her father'sshattered hand, and sobbing at sight of the blood that dripped upon therocks at his feet. 

"Get inside!" called Beth, sharply; "and close up that rock. Lively, now!"

The "girl who could shoot" still sat toying with her revolver, and themountaineers obeyed her injunction. The rock promptly closed, and thegroup of Americans was left alone. 

Then Beth came slowly down to where Patsy was hugging Uncle John in awild frenzy of delight, and Count Ferralti was shaking Kenneth's handwith a face eloquent of emotion. 

"Come, " said she, her voice sounding faint and weary, "let us get awayfrom here. It was a pretty game, while it lasted, but I'll feel saferwhen we are home again. Where's the money?"

"I've got it, " said Kenneth, holding up the package. 

"What! didn't you pay?" demanded Uncle John, astounded. 

"Of course not, dear, " said Patsy, gleefully. "Did you think your nieceswould let you be robbed by a bunch of dagoes?"

Ferralti caught hold of Beth's swaying form. 

"Look after your cousin, " he said, sharply. "I think she has fainted!"

CHAPTER XXVI

THE COUNT UNMASKS

"And now, " said Uncle John, as he sat in their cosy sitting-room, propped in an easy chair with his feet upon a stool, "it's about timefor you to give an account of yourselves, you young rascals. "

They had eaten a late but very satisfactory dinner at theCastello-a-Mare, where the return of the missing ones was hailed withjoy by the proprietor and his assistants. Even the little bewhiskeredhead-waiter, who resembled a jack-in-the-box more than he did a man, strove to celebrate the occasion by putting every good thing the houseafforded before the returned guests. For, although they dared notinterfere to protect the victims of the terrible Il Duca, the hotelpeople fully recognized the fact that brigandage was not a goodadvertisement for Taormina, and hoped the "little incident" would notbecome generally known. 

Old Silas Watson, dignified lawyer as he was, actually danced a hornpipewhen he beheld his old friend safe and sound. But he shook his headreproachfully when he learned of the adventure his ward and the twogirls had undertaken with such temerity but marvelous success. 

Beth had quickly recovered from her weakness, although Kenneth hadinsisted on keeping her arm all the way home. But the girl had beensilent and thoughtful, and would eat nothing at dinner. 

When they had gathered in their room to talk it all over the lawyerthought his young friends deserved a reproof. 

"The money wasn't worth the risk, you crazy lunatics!" he said. 

"It wasn't the money at all, " replied Patsy, demurely. 

"No?"

"It was the principle of the thing. And wasn't Beth just wonderful, though?"

"Shucks!" said Kenneth. "She had to go and faint, like a ninny, and shecried all the way home, because she had hurt the brigand's finger. "

The girl's eyes were still red, but she answered the boy's scornfulremark by saying, gravely:

"I am sorry it had to be done. I'll never touch a revolver again as longas I live. "

Uncle John gathered his brave niece into an ample embrace. 

"I'm very proud of you, my dear, " he said, stroking her hair lovingly, "and you mustn't pay any attention to that silly boy. I've always knownyou were true blue, Beth, and now you have proved it to everyone. It mayhave been a reckless thing to do, as Mr. Watson says, but you did itlike a major, and saved our self-esteem as well as our money. "

"Hurrah for Beth!" yelled the boy, changing his colors without a blush. 

"If you don't shut up, I'll box your ears, " said his guardian, sternly. 

Uncle John and young Ferralti were the heroes of the evening. The littleold gentleman smoked a big cigar and beamed upon his nieces and friendswith intense satisfaction, while Ferralti sat glum and silent besideLouise until an abrupt challenge from Mr. Merrick effectually arousedhim. 

"I've only one fault to find with this young man, " was the observationreferred to: "that he made our acquaintance under false pretenses. Whena fairly decent fellow becomes an impostor there is usually reason forit, and I would like Count Ferralti--or whatever his name is--to give usthat reason and make a clean breast of his deception. "

Ferralti bowed, with a serious face, but looked significantly toward theother members of the company. 

"Whatever you have to say should be heard by all, " declared Uncle John, answering the look. 

"Perhaps you are right, Mr. Merrick, and all present are entitled to anexplanation, " answered the young man, slowly. "I may have been foolish, but I believe I have done nothing that I need be ashamed of. Fortunately, there is now no further reason for concealment on my part, and in listening to my explanation I hope you will be as considerate aspossible. "

They were attentive enough, by this time, and every eye was turned, notunkindly, upon the youth who had so long been an enigma to themall--except, perhaps, to Louise. 

"I am an American by birth, and my name is Arthur Weldon. "

In the pause that followed Uncle John gave a soft whistle and Patsylaughed outright, to the undisguised indignation of Louise. 

"Years ago, " resumed the youth, "my father, who was a rich man, made atrip to Sicily and, although I did not know this until recently, wasseized by brigands and imprisoned in the hidden valley we have justleft. There he fell in love with a beautiful girl who was the daughterof the female brigand known as the Duchess of Alcanta, and who assistedhim to escape and then married him. It was a pretty romance at the time, but when my father had taken his bride home to New York and becameimmersed in the details of his business, his love grew cold and he beganto neglect his wife cruelly. He became a railway president and amasseda great fortune, but was not so successful a husband as he was afinancier. The result was that the Sicilian girl, after some years ofunhappiness and suffering, deserted him and returned to her own country, leaving her child, then three years old, behind her. To be frank withyou, it was said at the time that my mother's mind had becomeunbalanced, or she would not have abandoned me to the care of a lovelessfather, but I prefer to think that she had come to hate her husband sobitterly that she could have no love for his child or else she fearedthat her terrible mother would kill me if I came into her power. Herflight mattered little to my father, except that it made him more sternand tyrannical toward me. He saw me very seldom and confided myeducation to servants. So I grew up practically unloved and uncared for, and when the proper time arrived I was sent to college. My father nowgave me an ample allowance, and at the close of my college career calledme into his office and ordered me to enter the employ of the railwaycompany. I objected to this. I did not like the business and had otherplans for my future. But he was stubborn and dictatorial, and when Icontinued unsubmissive he threatened to cast me off entirely and leavehis fortune to charity, since he had no other near relatives. He musthave thought better of this decision afterward, for he gave me a year todecide whether or not I would obey him. At the end of that time, hedeclared, I would become either a pauper or his heir, at my option. 

"It was during this year that I formed the acquaintance of your niece, Miss Merrick, and grew to love her devotedly. Louise returned myaffection, but her mother, learning of my quarrel with my father, refused to sanction our engagement until I was acknowledged his heir. Iwas forbidden her house, but naturally we met elsewhere, and when I knewshe was going to Europe with you, sir, who had never seen me, we hitupon what we thought was a happy and innocent plan to avoid the longseparation. I decided to go to Europe also, and without you or yourother nieces suspecting, my identity, attach myself to your party andenjoy the society of Louise while she remained abroad. So I followedyou on the next ship and met you at Sorrento, where I introduced myselfas Count Ferralti--a name we had agreed I should assume before we partedin America. 

"The rest of my story you know. My father was killed in an accident onhis own railroad, and I received the news while we were prisoners of thebrigand, whom I discovered to be my uncle, but who had no mercy upon mebecause of the relationship. To-night, on my return here, I found aletter from my father's attorney, forwarded from my bankers in Paris. Through my father's sudden death I have inherited all his wealth, as hehad no time to alter his will. Therefore Mrs. Merrick's objection to meis now removed, and Louise has never cared whether I had a penny ornot. "

He halted, as if not knowing what more to say, and the little group oflisteners remained quiet because it seemed that no remark from them wasnecessary. Young Weldon, however, was ill at ease, and after hitchingnervously in his chair he addressed Uncle John in these words:

"Sir, you are the young lady's guardian for the present, as she is inyour charge. I therefore ask your consent to our formal engagement. "

"Not any, " said Uncle John, decidedly. "I'll sanction no engagement ofany children on this trip. You are wrong in supposing I am Louise'sguardian--I'm just her chum and uncle. It's like cradle-snatching towant to marry a girl of sixteen, and you ought to be ashamed ofyourself, for you can't be much more than twenty-one yourself. WhileLouise is in my care I won't have any entanglements of any sort, soyou'll have to wait till you get home and settle the business with hermother. "

"Very wise and proper, sir, " said Mr. Watson, nodding gravely. 

Louise's cheeks were flaming. 

"Do you intend to drive Arthur away, Uncle?" she asked. 

"Why should I, my dear? except that you've both taken me for a blind oldidiot and tried to deceive me. Let the boy stay with us, if he wantsto, but he'll have to cut out all love-making and double-dealing fromthis time on--or I'll take you home in double-quick time. "

The young man seemed to resent the indictment. 

"The deception seemed necessary at the time, sir, " he said, "and youmust not forget the old adage that 'all's fair in love and war. ' But Ibeg that you will forgive us both and overlook our fault, if fault itwas. Hereafter it is our desire to be perfectly frank with you in allthings. "

That was a good way to disarm Uncle John's anger, and the result wasimmediately apparent. 

"Very good, " said the old gentleman; "if you are proper and obedientchildren I've no objection to your being together. I rather like you, Arthur Weldon, and most of your failings are due to the foolishness ofyouth. But you've got to acquire dignity now, for you have suddenlybecome a man of consequence in the world. Don't think you've got tomarry every girl that attracts you by her pretty face. This devotion toLouise may be 'puppy-love, ' after all, and--"

"Oh, Uncle!" came a chorus of protest. 

"What, you rascals! are you encouraging this desperate fol-de-rol?"

"You are too severe, Uncle John, " said Patsy, smiling. "The trouble withyou is that you've never been in love yourself. "

"Never been in love!" He beamed upon the three girls with devotionwritten all over his round, jolly face. 

"Then you're jealous, " said Kenneth. "Give the poor kids a fair show, Uncle John. "

"All right, I will. Arthur, my lad, join our happy family as one of mykidlets, and love us all--but no one in particular. Eh? Until we gethome again, you know. We've started out to have the time of our lives, and we're getting it in chunks--eh, girls?"

"We certainly are, Uncle John!" Another chorus. 

"Well, what do you say, Arthur Weldon?"

"Perhaps you are right, sir, " answered the young man. "And, anyway, I amdeeply grateful for your kindness. I fear I must return home in a coupleof weeks, to look after business matters; but while I remain with you Ishall try to conduct myself as you wish. "

"That sounds proper. Is it satisfactory to you, Louise?"

"Yes, Uncle. "

"Then we've settled Cupid--for a time, anyway. And now, my dears, Ithink we have all had enough of Taormina. Where shall we go next?"

CHAPTER XXVII

TATO IS ADOPTED

They canvassed the subject of their future travels with considerableearnestness. Uncle John was bent upon getting to Rome and Venice, andfrom there to Paris, and the nieces were willing to go anywhere hepreferred, as they were sure to enjoy every day of their trip in the oldworld. But Mr. Watson urged them strongly to visit Syracuse, since theywere not likely to return to Sicily again and the most famous of all theancient historic capitals was only a few hours' journey from Taormina. So it was finally decided to pass a week in Syracuse before returning tothe continent, and preparations were at once begun for their departure. 

Kenneth pleaded for one more day in which to finish his picture of Etna, and this was allowed him. Uncle John nevertheless confessed to beinguneasy as long as they remained on the scene of his recent excitingexperiences. Mr. Watson advised them all not to stray far from thehotel, as there was no certainty that Il Duca would not make anotherattempt to entrap them, or at least to be revenged for their escape fromhis clutches. 

On the afternoon of the next day, however, they were startled by a callfrom the Duke in person. He was dressed in his usual faded velvetcostume and came to them leading by the hand a beautiful little girl. 

The nieces gazed at the child in astonishment. 

Tato wore a gray cloth gown, ill-fitting and of coarse material; but nocostume could destroy the fairy-like perfection of her form or thedaintiness of her exquisite features. With downcast eyes and a troubledexpression she stood modestly before them until Patsy caught herrapturously in her arms and covered her face with kisses. 

"You lovely, lovely thing!" she cried. "I'm _so_ glad to see you again, Tato darling!"

The Duke's stern features softened. He sighed heavily and acceptedUncle John's polite invitation to be seated. 

The little party of Americans was fairly astounded by this unexpectedvisit. Kenneth regretted that he had left his revolver upstairs, but theothers remembered that the brigand would not dare to molest them in thesecurity of the hotel grounds, and were more curious than afraid. 

Il Duca's hand was wrapped in a bandage, but the damaged finger did notseem to affect him seriously. Beth could not take her eyes off thisdreadful evidence of her late conflict, and stared at it as if thebandage fascinated her. 

"Signore, " said the Duke, addressing Uncle John especially, "I owe toyou my apologies and my excuses for the annoyance I have caused to youand your friends. I have the explanation, if you will so kindly permitme. "

"Fire away, Duke, " was the response. 

"Signore, I unfortunately come of a race of brigands. For centuries myfamily has been lawless and it was natural that by education I, too, should become a brigand. In my youth my father was killed in an affrayand my mother took his place, seizing many prisoners and exacting fromthem ransom. My mother you have seen, and you know of her sudden madnessand of her death. She was always mad, I think, and by nature a fiend. She urged my elder brother to wicked crimes, and when he rebelled sheherself cast him, in a fit of anger, into the pit. I became duke in hisplace, and did my mother's bidding because I feared to oppose her. Butfor years I have longed to abandon the life and have done with crime. 

"With me our race ends, for I have no sons. But my one child, whom youknow as Tato, I love dearly. My greatest wish is to see her happy. Thelast few days have changed the fortunes of us both. The Duchessa isgone, and at last I am the master of my own fate. As for Tato, she hasbeen charmed by the young American signorini, and longs to be like them. So we come to ask that you forgive the wrong we did you, and that youwill now allow us to be your friends. "

Uncle John was amazed. 

"You have decided to reform, Duke?" he asked. 

"Yes, signore. Not alone for Tato's sake, but because I loathe the lifeof brigandage. See; here is my thought. At once I will disband my menand send them away. My household effects I will sell, and then abandonthe valley forever. Tato and I have some money, enough to live in quietin some other land, where we shall be unknown. "

"A very good idea, Duke. "

"But from my respect for you, Signer Merreek, and from my daughter'slove for your nieces--the brave and beautiful signorini--I shall dare toask from you a favor. But already I am aware that we do not deserve it. "

"What is it, sir?"

"That you take my Tato to keep for a few weeks, until I can send away mymen and arrange my affairs here. It would be unpleasant for the childhere, and with you she will be so happy. I would like the sweetsignorini to buy nice dresses, like those they themselves wear, for mylittle girl, and to teach her the good manners she could not gain asthe brigand's daughter. Tato has the money to pay for everything but thekindness, if you will let her stay in your society until I can claimher. I am aware that I ask too much; but the Signorina Patsy has said tomy child that they would always be friends, whatever might happen, andas I know you to be generous I have dared to come to you with thisrequest. I only ask your friendship for my Tato, who is innocent. Formyself, after I have become a good man, then perhaps you will forgiveme, too. "

Uncle John looked thoughtful; the old lawyer was grave and listenedsilently. Patsy, her arms still around the shrinking form of the child, looked pleadingly at her uncle. Beth's eyes were moist and Louise smiledencouragingly. 

"Well, my dears? The Duke is certainly not entitled to our friendship, as he truly says; but I have nothing against little Tato. What do youadvise?"

"Let us keep her, and dress her like the beautiful doll she is, and loveher!" cried Patsy. 

"She shall be our adopted cousin, " said Louise. 

"Tato is good stuff!" declared Kenneth. 

"Well, Beth?"

"It seems to me, Uncle, " said the girl, seriously, "that if the Dukereally wishes to reform, we should give him a helping hand. The littlegirl has led a bad life only because her father forced her to lure hisvictims and then procure the money for their ransoms; but I am sure hernature is sweet and pure, and she is so young that she will soon forgetthe evil things she has learned. So I vote with my cousins. Let us adoptTato, and care for her until her father can introduce her into a new andmore proper life. "

"Well argued, Beth, " said Uncle John, approvingly. "I couldn't have putthe case better myself. What do you say, Silas Watson?"

"That you are all quite right, " answered the old lawyer. "And the bestpart of the whole thing, to me, is the fact that this nest of brigandswill be wiped out of existence, and Taormina be hereafter as safe fortourists as old Elmhurst itself. I wish I could say as much for the restof Sicily. "

Uncle John extended his hand to the Duke, who took it gratefully, although with a shamefaced expression that was perhaps natural under thecircumstances. 

"Look up, dear, " said Patsy to the girl, softly; "look up and kiss me. You've been adopted, Tato! Are you glad?"

CHAPTER XXVIII

DREAMS AND DRESS-MAKING

Tato was now one of the family. They left Taormina the next day, andFrascatti drove all the girls in his victoria to the station. 

"You must come again, signorini, " said he, looking regretful at theirdeparture. "Next year the fountain of the ice cream soda will be inoperation, like those you have in Chicago, which is America. Our cultureincreases with our civilization. It is even hinted that Il Duca is toabandon our island forever. He has been interesting to us, but notpopular, and you will not miss him when you come again to find he is nothere. If this time he has caused you an inconvenience, I am sorry. It isregrettable, but, --"

"But it is so!" said Patsy, laughing. 

Tato was again transformed. Patricia, who was the smallest of the threenieces, though not especially slim, had quickly altered one of her ownpretty white gowns to fit the child, and as she was deft with her needleand the others had enthusiastically assisted her, Tato now looked morelike a fairy than ever. 

It was really wonderful what a suitable dress could do for the tinySicilian maid. She had lost her free and boyish manner and become shyand retiring with strangers, although when in the society of the threenieces she was as sweet and frank as ever. She wore her new gowngracefully, too, as if well accustomed to feminine attire all her life. The only thing now needed, as Patsy said, was time in which to grow herhair, which had always been cut short, in boyish fashion. 

They were a merry party when they boarded the train for Syracuse, andUncle John arranged with the guard to secure two adjoining compartmentsall to themselves, that they might have plenty of room. 

"Where did you put the money, Uncle John?" Beth whispered, when at lastthey were whirling along and skirting the base of Mt. Etna toward theCatania side. 

"I've hidden it in my trunk, " he replied, in the same confidential tone. "There is no bank in this neighborhood to receive it, so I decided tocarry it with us. "

"But will it be safe in the trunk?" she enquired. 

"Of course, my dear. Who would think of looking there for fifty thousanddollars? And no one knows we happen to have so much money with us. "

"What did the Count--I mean, Mr. Weldon--do with his ransom?"

"Carries it in his satchel, so he can keep it with him and have an eyeon it. It's a great mistake, Beth, to do such a thing as that. It'llmake him uneasy every minute, and he won't dare to let a _facchino_handle his grip. But in my case, on the other hand, I know it'ssomewhere in the baggage car, so I don't have to worry. "

The journey was a delightful one. The road skirted the coast through theoldest and most picturesque part of Sicily, and it amazed them toobserve that however far they travelled Etna was always apparently nextdoor, and within reaching distance. 

At Aci Castello they were pointed out the seven Isles of the Cyclops, which the blind Polyphemus once hurled after the crafty Ulysses. Thenthey came to Catania, which is the second largest city in Sicily, buthas little of historic interest. Here they were really at the nearestpoint to the mighty volcano, but did not realize it because it alwaysseemed to be near them. Eighteen miles farther they passed Leontinoi, which in ancient days dared to rival Siracusa itself, and an hour laterthe train skirted the bay and Capo Santa Panagia and slowly came to ahalt in that city which for centuries dominated all the known world andwas more powerful and magnificent in its prime than Athensitself--Syracuse. 

The day had become cloudy and gray and the wind whistled around themwith a chill sweep as they left their coach at the station and waitedfor Kenneth to find carriages. Afterward they had a mile to drive totheir hotel; for instead of stopping in the modern town Uncle John hadtelegraphed for rooms at the Villa Politi, which is located in theancient Achradina, at the edge of the Latomia de Cappuccini. By the timethey arrived there they were blue with cold, and were glad to seek thewarm rooms prepared for them and pass the remainder of the afternoonunpacking and "getting settled. "

"I'm afraid, " said Patsy, dolefully, "that we shall miss the brightsunshine and warmth of Taormina, Tato. "

"Oh, it is not always warm there, nor is it always cold here, " repliedthe child. "Indeed, signorina, I have heard that the climate of Siracusais very delightful. "

"It doesn't look it, " returned Patsy; "but it may improve. "

The interior of the hotel was comfortable, though, however bleak theweather might be outside. A good dinner put them all in a better humorand they passed the evening watching the strangers assembled in theparlors and wondering where they had come from and who they were. 

"That money, " whispered Uncle John to Beth, as he kissed her goodnight, "is still as safe as can be. I've lost the key to my trunk, andnow I can't even get at it myself. "

"Lost it!" she exclaimed. 

"Yes; but that won't matter. It's the big trunk that holds the things Idon't often use, and if I can't unlock it no one else can, that'scertain. So I shall rest easy until I need something out of it, and thenI'll get a locksmith to pick the lock. "

"But I wish you hadn't lost the key, " said the girl, thoughtfully. 

"Strikes me it's good luck. Pleasant dreams, my dear. I can fancy ArthurWeldon lying awake all night with his dreadful thirty thousand tuckedunder his pillow. It's a great mistake to carry so much money with you, Beth, for you're sure to worry about it. "

The next morning when they came down to breakfast they were all amazedat the gorgeous sunshine and the genial temperature that had followedthe dreary afternoon of their arrival. Syracuse was transformed, andfrom every window of the hotel the brilliant glow of countless flowersinvited one to wander in the gardens, which are surpassed by few if anyin the known world. 

The Villa Politi stood so near the edge of a monstrous quarry that itseemed as if it might topple into the abyss at any moment. Our friendswere on historic ground, indeed, for these quarries--or latomia, as theyare called--supplied all the stone of which the five cities of ancientSyracuse were built--cities which in our age have nearly, if not quite, passed out of existence. The walls of the quarry are a hundred feet indepth, and at the bottom are now acres upon acres of the most delightfulgardens, whose luxuriance is attributable to the fact that they areshielded from the winds while the sun reaches them nearly all the day. There are gardens on the level above, and beautiful ones, too; but thesein the deep latomia are the most fascinating. 

The girls could scarcely wait to finish breakfast before rushing out todescend the flights of iron steps that lead to the bottom of the vastexcavation. And presently they were standing on the ground below andlooking up at the vine covered cliffs that shut out all of the upperworld. 

It was peaceful here, and soothing to tired nerves. Through bloomingshrubbery and along quiet paths they might wander for hours, and atevery step find something new to marvel at and to delight the senses. 

Here were ancient tombs cut from the solid rock--one of them that of anAmerican midshipman who died in Syracuse and selected this impressiveand lovely vault for his burial place. And there stood the famous statueof Archimedes, who used in life to wander in this very latomia. 

"Once, " said Mr. Watson, musingly, "there were seven thousand Athenianprisoners confined in this very place, and allowed to perish throughstarvation and disease. The citizens of Syracuse--even the fine ladiesand the little children--used to stand on the heights above and mock atthe victims of their king's cruelty. "

"Couldn't they climb out?" asked Patsy, shuddering at the thought thatsome of the poor prisoners might have died on the very spot her feetnow trod. 

"No, dear. And it is said the guards constantly patrolled the edge toslay any who might venture to make the attempt. "

"Wasn't it dreadful!" she exclaimed. "But I'm glad they have made aflower garden of it now. Somehow, it reminds me of a cemetery. "

But there were other interesting sights to be seen at Syracuse, and theylaid out a systematic programme of the places they would visit eachmorning while they remained there. The afternoons were supposed to bereserved for rest, but the girls were so eager to supply Tato with afitting wardrobe that they at once began to devote the afternoons toshopping and dress-making. 

The child had placed in Uncle John's keeping a liberally supplied purse, which the Duke wished to be applied to the purchase of whatever hisdaughter might need or desire. 

"He wants me to dress as you do, " said Tato, simply; "and because youwill know what is fitting my station and will be required in my futurelife, he has burdened you with my society. It was selfish in my father, was it not? But but--I wanted so much to be with you--because you aregood to me!"

"And we're mighty glad to have you with us, " answered Patsy. "It's noend of fun getting a girl a whole new outfit, from top to toe; and, aside from that, we already love you as if you were our little sister. "

Beth and Louise equally endorsed this statement; and indeed the childwas so sweet and pretty and so grateful for the least kindness bestowedupon her that it was a pleasure to assist and counsel her. 

Tato looked even smaller in girls' clothing than in boys', and sheimproved so rapidly in her manners by constantly watching the niecesthat it was hard to imagine she had until now been all unused to politesociety. Already they began to dread the day when her father would cometo claim her, and the girls and Uncle John had conceived a clever planto induce the Duke to let his daughter travel with them on the continentand then go for a brief visit to them in America. 

"By that time, " declared Louise, "Tato's education will beaccomplished, and she will be as refined and ladylike as any girl of herage we know. Blood will tell, they say, and the monk who taught her musthave been an intelligent and careful man. "

"She knows more of history and languages than all the rest of us puttogether, " added Beth. 

"And, having adopted her, we mustn't do the thing by halves, " concludedPatsy; "so our darling little brigandess must tease her papa to let herstay with us as long as possible. "

Tato smiled and blushed with pleasure. It was very delightful to knowshe had such enthusiastic friends. But she was afraid the Duke would notlike to spare her for so long a time as a visit to America wouldrequire. 

"You leave him to me, " said Uncle John. "I'll argue the case clearly andlogically, and after that he will have to cave in gracefully. "

Meantime the dainty gowns and pretty costumes were one by one finishedand sent to the hotel, and the girls ransacked the rather inadequateshops of Syracuse for the smartest things in lingerie that could beprocured. As they were determined to "try everything on" and see howtheir protégé looked in her finery, Tato was now obliged to dress fordinner and on every other possible occasion, and she not only astonishedher friends by her loveliness but drew the eye of every stranger assurely as the magnet attracts the needle. 

Even in Sicily, where the Greek type of beauty to-day exists moreperfectly than in Helene, there were few to compare with Tato, and itwas only natural that the Americans should be very proud of her. 

Kenneth was sketching a bit of the quarry and the old monastery beyondit, with the blue sea glimmering in the distance. Sometimes he wouldjoin the others in their morning trips to the catacombs, the cathedralsor the museum; but the afternoons he devoted to his picture, and theothers came to the gardens with him and sat themselves down to sew orread beside his easel. 

Arthur Weldon was behaving very well indeed; and although a good deal ofthe credit belonged to Louise, who managed him with rare diplomaticability, Uncle John grew to like the young man better each day, and hadno fault whatever to find with him. 

He was still rather silent and reserved; but that seemed a part of hisnature, inherited doubtless from his father, and when he chose to talkhis conversation was interesting and agreeable. 

Kenneth claimed that Arthur had a bad habit of "making goo-goo eyes" atLouise; but the young man's manner was always courteous and judiciouswhen addressing her, and he managed to conceal his love with admirablediscretion--at least when others were present. 

Uncle John's private opinion, confided in secret to his friend Mr. Watson, was that Louise "really might do worse; that is, if they wereboth of the same mind when they grew up. "

And so the days passed pleasantly away, and the time for their departurefrom Syracuse drew near. 

On the last morning all of them--with the exception of Tato, who pleadeda headache--drove to the Latomia del Paradiso to see the celebrated "Earof Dionysius"--that vast cavern through which the tyrant is said tohave overheard every whisper uttered by the prisoners who were confinedin that quarry. There is a little room at the top of the cliff, alsobuilt from the rock, where it is claimed Dionysius sat and playedeavesdropper; and it is true that one in that place can hear theslightest sound uttered in the chamber below. 

Afterward the amphitheatre and the ancient street of the tombs were paida final visit, with a stop at San Giovanni, where St. Paul oncepreached. And at noon the tourists returned to the hotel hungry butenthusiastic, in time for the table-d'-hote luncheon. 

CHAPTER XXIX

TATO WINS

"This is funny!" cried Patsy, appearing before Uncle John with a whiteand startled face. "I can't find Tato anywhere. "

"And her new trunk is gone from her room, as well as her gowns andeverything she owns, " continued Beth's clear voice, over her cousin'sshoulder. 

Uncle John stared at them bewildered. Then an expression of anxietycrept over his kindly face. 

"Are you sure?" he asked. 

"There can't be a mistake, Uncle. She's just _gone_. "

"None of you has offended, or annoyed the child, I suppose?"

"Oh, no, Uncle. She kissed us all very sweetly when we left her thismorning. "

"I can't understand it. "

"Nor can we. "

"Could her father have come for her, do you think?" suggested Mr. Merrick, after a moment's thought. 

"I can't imagine her so ungrateful as to leave us without a word, " saidPatsy. "I know Tato well, Uncle, and the dear child would not hurt ourfeelings for the world. She loves us dearly. "

"But she's a queer thing, " added Louise, "and I don't trust heraltogether. Sometimes I've surprised a look in her eyes that wasn't asinnocent and demure as she would have us imagine her. "

"Oh, Louise!"

"And there's another reason. "

"What is it?"

"She reformed too suddenly. "

Uncle John slapped his forehead a mighty blow as a suspicious anddreadful thought flashed across his mind. But next instant he drew along breath and smiled again. 

"It was lucky I lost that key to the trunk, " he observed, still a littleashamed of his temporary lack of confidence in Tato. "It's been lockedever since we left Taormina, so the child couldn't be tempted by that. "

"She wouldn't touch your money for the world!" said Patsy, indignantly. "Tato is no thief!"

"She comes of a race of thieves, though, " Beth reminded her. 

"I wonder if Arthur's money is still safe, " remarked Louise, followingthe line of thought suggested. 

As if with one accord they moved down the hall to the door of the youngman's room. 

"Are you in, Arthur?" asked Uncle John, knocking briskly. 

"Yes, sir. "

He opened his door at once, and saw with surprise the little group ofanxious faces outside. 

"Is your money safe?" asked Uncle John. 

Weldon gave them a startled glance and then ran to his dresser andpulled open a drawer. After a moment's fumbling he turned with a smile. 

"All safe, sir. "

Uncle John and his nieces were visibly relieved. 

"You see, " continued Arthur, "I've invented a clever hiding-place, because the satchel could not be left alone and I didn't wish to lug itwith me every step I took. So I placed the packages of bills inside theleg of a pair of trousers, and put them in a drawer with some otherclothing at top and bottom. A dozen people might rummage in that drawerwithout suspecting the fact that money is hidden there. I've come tobelieve the place is as good as a bank; but you startled me for aminute, with your question. What's wrong?"

"Tato's gone. "

"Gone!"

"Departed bag and baggage. "

"But your fifty thousand, sir. Is it safe?"

"It has to be, " answered Uncle John. "It is in a steel-bound, double-locked trunk, to which I've lost the key. No bank can beat that, my boy. "

"Then why did the child run away?"

They could not answer that. 

"It's a mystery, " said Patsy, almost ready to weep. "But I'll bet it'sthat cruel, wicked father of hers. Perhaps he came while we were out andwouldn't wait a minute. "

"What does the hall porter say?" asked Kenneth, who had joined the groupin time to overhear the last speech and guess what had happened. 

"Stupid!" cried Uncle John. "We never thought of the hall-porter. Comeback to our sitting room, and we'll have him up in a jiffy. "

The portiere answered his hell with alacrity. The Americans were liberalguests. 

The young lady? Ah, she had driven away soon after they had themselvesgone. A thin-faced, dark-eyed man had called for her and taken her away, placing her baggage on the box of the carriage. Yes, she had paid herbill and tipped the servants liberally. 

"Just as I suspected!" cried Patsy. "That horrid duke has forced her toleave us. Perhaps he was jealous, and feared we would want to keep heralways. Was she weeping and miserable, porter?"

"No, signorina. She laughed and was very merry. And--but I hadforgotten! There is a letter which she left for the Signorina D'Oyle. "

"Where?"

"In the office. I will bring it at once. "

He ran away and quickly returned, placing a rather bulky parcel in thegirl's hands. 

"You read it, Uncle John, " she said. "There can't be anything private inTato's letter, and perhaps she has explained everything. "

He put on his glasses and then took the missive and deliberately openedit. Tato wrote a fine, delicate hand, and although the English wordswere badly spelled she expressed herself quite well in the foreigntongue. With the spelling and lack of punctuation corrected, her letterwas as follows:

"Dear, innocent, foolish Patsy: How astonished you will be to find Ihave vanished from your life forever; and what angry and indignant wordsyou will hurl after poor Tato! But they will not reach me, because youwill not know in which direction to send them, and I will not carewhether you are angry or not. 

"You have been good to me, Patsy, and I really love you--fully as muchas I have fear of that shrewd and pretty cousin of yours, whose coldeyes have made me tremble more than once. But tell Beth I forgive her, because she is the only clever one of the lot of you. Louise thinks sheis clever, but her actions remind me of the juggler who explained histricks before he did them, so that the audience would know how skillfulhe was. "

"But oh, Patsy, what simpletons you all are! And because you have beentoo stupid to guess the truth I must bother to write it all down. For itwould spoil much of my satisfaction and enjoyment if you did not knowhow completely I have fooled you. 

"You tricked us that day in the mountain glen, and for the first time anAlcanta brigand lost his prisoners and his ransom money through beingoutwitted. But did you think that was the end? If so you failed toappreciate us. 

"Look you, my dear, we could have done without the money, for our familyhas been robbing and accumulating for ages, with little need to expendmuch from year to year. It is all in the Bank of Italy, too, and drawingthe interest, for my father is a wise man of business. That four hundredthousand lira was to have been our last ransom, and after we had fairlyearned it you tricked us and did not pay. 

"So my father and I determined to get even with you, as much throughrevenge as cupidity. We were obliged to desert the valley at once, because we were getting so rich that the government officials becameuneasy and warned us to go or be arrested. So we consulted together anddecided upon our little plot, which was so simple that it has workedperfectly. We came to you with our sad story, and you thought we hadreformed, and kindly adopted me as one of your party. It was so easythat I almost laughed in your foolish faces. But I didn't, for I canact. I played the child very nicely, I think, and you quite forgot I wasa brigand's daughter, with the wild, free blood of many brave outlawscoursing in my veins. Ah, I am more proud of that than of my acting. 

"Innocent as I seemed, I watched you all carefully, and knew fromalmost the first hour where the money had been put. I stole the key toUncle John's trunk on the train, while we were going from Taormina toSyracuse; but I did not take the money from it because I had no betterplace to keep it, and the only danger was that he would force the locksome day. But Ferralti's money--I call him Ferralti because it is aprettier name than Weldon--bothered me for a long time. At the first hewould not let that little satchel out of his sight, and when he finallydid he had removed the money to some other place. I searched his roommany times, but could not find his hiding place until last night. Whilehe was at dinner I discovered the bills in one of the drawers of hisdresser. 

"But for this difficulty I should have left your charming societybefore, as my father has been secretly waiting for me for three days. Having located Ferralti's money I waited until this morning and when youhad all left me I signalled to my father from my window and prepared todisappear. It took but a few minutes to get the money from Uncle John'strunk and Arthur's trouser-leg. Much obliged for it, I'm sure. Then Ipacked up all my pretty dresses in my new trunk--for part of our plotwas to use your good taste in fitting me out properly--and now I amwriting this loving epistle before I leave. 

"We shall go to Paris or Vienna or Cairo or London--guess which! Weshall have other names--very beautiful ones--and be rich and dignifiedand respected. When I grow older I think I shall marry a prince andbecome a princess; but that will not interest you much, for you will notknow that the great princess is your own little Tato. 

"Tell Uncle John I have left the key to his trunk on the mantel, behindthe picture of the madonna. I stuffed papers into Arthur's trouser legto deceive him if he came back before I had a chance to escape. But Ihoped you would discover nothing until you read this letter, for Iwanted to surprise you. Have I? Then I am content. You tricked me once;but I have tricked you at the last, and the final triumph is mine. 

"In spite of all, Patsy dear, I love you; for you are sweet and good, and although I would not be like you for the world I can appreciate yourexcellent qualities. Remember this when your anger is gone. I won't beable to visit you in America, but I shall always think of you in a morekindly way than I fear you will think of the Sicilian tomboy, TATO. "

CHAPTER XXX

A WAY TO FORGET

The faces of the group, as Uncle John finished reading, were worthstudying. Arthur Weldon was white with anger, and his eyes blazed. SilasWatson stared blankly at his old friend, wondering if it was because hewas growing old that he had been so easily hoodwinked by this saucychild. Beth was biting her lip to keep back the tears of humiliationthat longed to trickle down her cheeks. Louise frowned because sheremembered the hard things Tato had said of her. Patsy was softly cryingat the loss of her friend. 

Then Kenneth laughed, and the sound sent a nervous shiver through thegroup. 

"Tato's a brick!" announced the boy, audaciously. "Can't you see, youstupids, that the thing is a good joke on us all? Or are you too thinskinned to laugh at your own expense?"

"Oh, we can laugh, " responded Uncle John, gravely. "But if Tato's abrick it's because she is hard and insensible. The loss of the moneydoesn't hurt me, but to think the wicked little lass made me love herwhen she didn't deserve it is the hardest blow I have ever received. "

That made Patsy sob outright, while Louise ejaculated, with scorn: "Thelittle wretch!"

"It serves us right for having confidence in a child reared to crime andmurder from the cradle, " said Arthur, rather savagely. "I don't know howmuch money I am worth, but I'd gladly spend another thirty thousand tobring this wretched creature to justice. "

"Money won't do it, " declared the lawyer, shaking his head regretfully. "The rascals are too clever to be caught in Europe. It would bedifferent at home. "

"Well, the best thing to do is to grin and bear it, and forget theunpleasant incident as soon as possible, " said Uncle John. "I feel as ifI'd had my pocket picked by my best friend, but it isn't nearly asdisgraceful as being obliged to assist the thief by paying ransommoney. The loss amounts to nothing to either of us, and such treachery, thank goodness, is rare in the world. We can't afford to let the thingmake us unhappy, my friends; so cheer up, all of you, and don't dwellupon it any more than you can help. "

They left Syracuse a rather solemn group, in spite of this wise advice, and journeyed back to Naples and thence to Rome. There was much to seehere, and they saw it so energetically that when they boarded the trainfor Florence they were all fagged out and could remember nothing clearlyexcept the Coliseum and the Baths of Carracalla. 

Florence was just now a bower of roses and very beautiful. But Kennethlugged them to the galleries day after day until Uncle John declared hehated to look an "old master" in the face. 

"After all, they're only daubs, " he declared. "Any ten-year-old boy inAmerica can paint better pictures. "

"Don't let anyone hear you say that, dear, " cautioned Patsy. "They'dthink you don't know good art. "

"But I do, " he protested. "If any of those pictures by old masters wasused in a street-car 'ad' at home it would be money wasted, for no onewould look at them. The people wouldn't stand for it a minute. "

"They are wonderful for the age in which they were painted, " saidKenneth, soberly. "You must remember that we have had centuries in whichto improve our art, since then. "

"Oh, I've a proper respect for old age, I hope, " replied Uncle John;"but to fall down and worship a thing because it's gray-haired andout-of-date isn't just my style. All of these 'Oh!'s' and 'Ahs!' overthe old masters are rank humbug, and I'm ashamed of the people thatdon't know better. "

And now Arthur Weldon was obliged to bid good-bye to Louise and herfriends and take a train directly to Paris to catch the steamer forhome. His attorney advised him that business demanded his immediatepresence, and he was obliged to return, however reluctantly. 

Kenneth and Mr. Watson also left the party at Florence, as the boyartist wished to remain there for a time to study the pictures thatUncle John so bitterly denounced. The others went on to Venice, whichnaturally proved to the nieces one of the most delightful places theyhad yet seen. Mr. Merrick loved it because he could ride in a gondolaand rest his stubby legs, which had become weary with tramping throughgalleries and cathedrals. These last monuments, by the way, had grown tobecome a sort of nightmare to the little gentleman. The girls wereenthusiastic over cathedrals, and allowed none to escape a visit. For atime Uncle John had borne up bravely, but the day of rebellion was sooncoming. 

"No cathedrals in Venice, I hope?" he had said on their arrival. 

"Oh, yes, dear; the loveliest one in the world! St. Mark's is here, youknow. "

"But no St. Paul's or St. Peter's?"

"No, Uncle. There's the Saluta, and the--"

"Never mind. We'll do that first one, and then quit. What they build somany churches for I can't imagine. Nobody goes to 'em but tourists, thatI can see. "

He developed a streak of extravagance in Venice, and purchased Venetianlace and Venetian glassware to such an extent that the nieces had toassure him they were all supplied with enough to last them and theirfriends for all time to come. Major Doyle had asked for a meerschaumpipe and a Florentine leather pocket book; so Uncle John made acollection of thirty-seven pipes of all shapes and sizes, and bought somany pocketbooks that Patsy declared her father could use a differentone every day in the month. 

"But they're handy things to have, " said her uncle, "and we may not getto Europe again in a hurry. "

This was his excuse for purchasing many things, and it was only byreminding him of the duty he would have to pay in New York that thegirls could induce him to desist. 

This customs tax worried the old gentleman at times. Before this trip hehad always believed in a protective tariff, but now he referred to theUnited States customs as a species of brigandage worse than that of IlDuca himself. 

They stopped at Milan to visit the great cathedral, and then racedthrough Switzerland and made a dash from Luzerne to Paris. 

"Thank heaven, " said Uncle John, "there are no cathedrals in gay Paree, at any rate. "

"Oh, yes there are, " they assured him. "We must see Notre Dame, anyway;and there are a dozen other famous cathedrals. "

Here is where Uncle John balked. 

"See here, my dears, " he announced, "Not a cathedral will I visit fromthis time on! You can take a guide and go by yourselves if you feel youcan't let any get away from you. Go and find another of Mike Angelo'slast work; every church has got one. For my part, I've always beenreligiously inclined, but I've been to church enough lately to last methe rest of my natural life, and I've fully determined not to darken thedoors of another cathedral again. They're like circuses, anyhow; whenyou've seen one, you've seen 'em all. "

No argument would induce him to abandon this position; so the girlsaccepted his proposal and visited their beloved cathedrals in charge ofa guide, whose well of information was practically inexhaustible if notremarkable for its clarity. 

The opera suited Uncle John better, and he freely revelled in the shops, purchasing the most useless and preposterous things in spite of thatgrowing bugbear of the customs duties. 

But finally this joyous holiday came to an end, as all good things will, and they sailed from Cherbourg for New York. 

Uncle John had six extra trunks, Patsy carried a French poodle that wasas much trouble as an infant in arms, and Louise engineered severalhat-boxes that could not be packed at the last minute. But the girlsembarked gay and rosy-cheeked and animated, and in spite of all theexcitement and pleasure that had attended their trip, not one of theparty was really sorry when the return voyage began. 

CHAPTER XXXI

SAFE HOME

"To me, " said Uncle John, as he stood on the deck and pointed proudly tothe statue of Liberty in New York harbor, "that is the prettiest sightI've seen since I left home. "

"Prettier than the old masters, Uncle?" asked Patsy, mischievously. 

"Yes, or the cathedrals!" he retorted. 

When they reached the dock there was the Major waiting to receive Patsyin a new checked suit with a big flower in his button-hole and a broadsmile on his jolly face. 

And there was Mrs. Merrick, too, with Arthur Weldon beside her, whichproved to Louise that he had succeeded in making his peace with hermother. Also there were the stern-featured custom-house officials intheir uniforms, and the sight of them sent the cold chills flying downUncle John's spine. 

There was no one present to receive Beth, but her uncle tucked her armunderneath his own with a proud gesture and kept her close beside him. For the girl had quite won his loving old heart on this trip, and sheseemed to him more mature and far sweeter than when they had left home. 

But the greetings and the "brigandage" were soon over, and in good timethey were all assembled in the Doyle flat, where the joyous Major hadprepared an elaborate dinner to celebrate the return of the wanderers. 

"We've a million pipes and pocket-books for you, daddy, " whisperedPatsy, hugging him for the twentieth time; "and I've got a thousandthings to tell you about our adventures in strange lands. "

"Save 'em till we're alone, " said the Major; "they're too good to wasteon a crowd. "

Mr. Merrick was placed at the head of the table to make a speech. It wasbrief and to the point. 

"I promised these young ladies to give them time of their lives, " hesaid, "Did I do it, girls?"

And in a lively chorus they answered:

"You did, Uncle John!"

 * * * * *

 This story is one of the delightful "Aunt Jane Series" in which are chronicled the many interesting adventures in the lives of those fascinating girls and dear old "Uncle John. " The other volumes can be bought wherever books are sold. A complete list of titles, which is added to from time to time, is given on page 2 of this book. 

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[Illustration]

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[Illustration]

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[Illustration]

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[Illustration]

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[Illustration]

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[Illustration: THE AEROPLANE BOYS SERIES

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[Illustration: THE AEROPLANE BOYS SERIES

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[Transcriber's note: The word "to" was inserted into the sentence "Nexthim was a dandified appearing man" in Chapter XVIII]