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 in
ner 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.