The Net: A Novel | Page 8

and departed, his rifle beneath his arm.
Blake turned his attention to the overseer, for his mind, once filled with
an idea, was not easily satisfied. But Ricardo would give him no
information. He raised his bushy, gray eyebrows at the American's
question.
"Brigands? Ippolito is a great liar."
Seeing the angry sparkle in the old fellow's eyes, Norvin hastened to
say:

"He told me nothing, I assure you."
"Thieves, yes! We have ladri here, as elsewhere. Sometimes it is well
to take precautions."
"But Francesca was quite excited, and I heard you and Martel mention
La Mafia last night," Blake persisted. "I see you all go armed. I am
naturally curious. I thought you might be in trouble with the society."
"Children's tales!" said Ricardo, gruffly. "There is no society of La
Mafia."
"Oh, see here! We have it even in my own country. The New Orleans
papers have been full of stories about the Mala Vita, the Mafia, or
whatever you choose to call it. There is a big Italian population there,
you know, and they are causing our police a great deal of worry. I live
in Louisiana, so I ought to know. We understand it's an offshoot of the
Sicilian Mafia."
"In Naples I hear there is a Camorra. But this is Sicily. We have no
societies."
"Nevertheless, I heard you say something about 'Mafioso' last night,"
Blake insisted.
"Perhaps," grudgingly admitted the overseer. "But La Mafia is not a
man, not a society, as you say. It is--" He made a wide gesture. "It is all
Sicily. You do not understand."
"No, I do not."
"Very well. One does not speak of it. Would the Signore care to see the
horses?"
"Thank you, yes."
The two went into the stables together, and Blake for the time gave up
the hope of learning anything further about Sicilian brigandage. Nor
did Martel show any willingness to enlighten him when he tentatively
introduced the subject at breakfast, but laughingly turned the
conversation into another channel.
"To-day you shall see the star of my life," he declared. "Be prepared to
worship as all men do."
"Assuredly."
"And promise you will not fall in love."
"Is that why you discouraged my coming until a week before your
wedding? Really, if she is all you claim, we might have been such
delightful enemies."

"Enemies are never that," said the Count, gravely.
I know men in my country who cherish their enemies like friends. They
seem to enjoy them tremendously, until one or the other has passed on
to glory. Even then they are highly spoken of."
"I am impatient for you to see her. She, of course, has many
preparations to make, for the wedding-day is almost here; but it is
arranged that we are to dine there to-night with her and her aunt, the
Donna Teresa. Ah, Norvin mine, seven days separate me from Paradise.
You can judge of my ecstasy. The hours creep, the moments are leaden.
Each night when I retire, I feel faithless in allowing sleep to rob my
thoughts of her. When I awake it is with the consolation that more of
those miserable hours have crept away. I am like a man insane."
"I am beginning to think you really are so."
"Diamine! Wait! You have not seen her. We are to be married by a
bishop."
"No doubt that will insure your happiness."
"A marriage like this does not occur every day. It will be an event, I tell
you."
"And you're sure I won't be in the way this evening?"
"No, no! It is arranged. She is waiting--expecting you. She knows you
already. This morning, however, you will amuse yourself--will you
not?--for I must ride down to San Sebastiano and meet the colonel of
carabinieri from Messina."
"Certainly. Don't mind me."
Martel hesitated an instant, then explained:
"It is a matter of business. One of my farm-hands is in prison."
"Indeed! What for?"
"Oh, it is nothing. He killed a fellow last week."
"Jove! What a peaceful, pastoral place you have here! I arrive to be met
by an armed guard, I hear talk of Mafiosi, men ride out at night with
rifles, and old women predict unspeakable evil. What is all the
mystery?"
"Nonsense! There is no mystery. Do you think I would drag you, my
best friend, into danger?" Savigno's lips were smiling, but he awaited
an answer with some restraint. "That would not be quite the--quite a
nice thing to do, would it?"
"So, that's it! Now I know you have something on your mind. And it

must be of considerable importance or you would have told me before
this."
"You are right," the Count suddenly declared, "although I hoped you
would not discover it. I might have known. But I suppose it