Part 33 (2/2)

It seemed that the gondolier would be cut to death in a moment, but he made a lucky clutch with his empty hand, and caught the wrist of his enemy, partly checking and turning the blow. He was wounded slightly.

Baffled in that manner, Mullura had the misfortune to slip on the steps while within the reach of Tortora. Before he could recover and save himself, the latter plunged the knife into his shoulder.

The stricken man broke the hold of the other, but up went one of his arms, and he reeled down the steps, on which his knife clanged, having fallen from his hand.

Reggio followed. His back was toward the light, but his manner was that of one who means to finish a task not yet accomplished.

Mullura tried to rise to his feet. He scrambled up, saw Tortora right upon him, leaped back, again lost his footing, and, a moment later, plunged with a great splash into the water.

The gondolier followed to the edge of the water, where he crouched, b.l.o.o.d.y knife in hand, watching for the man he hated to rise to the surface.

The water was ruffled and broken, but the ripples were caused by the man who had vanished, and they grew less and less. The head of Mullura did not rise into view.

”I opine the gent is done for,” muttered Brad Buckhart, finding his voice at last.

”I believe he is,” said d.i.c.k, speaking with an effort. ”If so, he met his just due.”

”Nary dispute to make on that, pard.”

There was something of disappointment in Reggio's manner as he rose to his feet.

”I wished to see him dead,” he muttered. ”Still, I know he is done, and he will never touch Teresa with his vile hands.”

”I reckon he's gone, all right, Reg,” said Brad; ”but so is your gondola. It's disappeared, and Professor Gunn has disappeared with it.

Pard, we're kind of left here, I judge.”

Already d.i.c.k had discovered that the gondola was gone.

With it had vanished the possibility of their immediately leaving the place by water, as they had reached it.

”We're stranded, Brad,” said d.i.c.k.

They called to Professor Gunn, but there was no answer.

”Courageous old boy!” muttered the Texan, with a show of anger.

”I don't know that we can blame him much,” said d.i.c.k, seeking an excuse.

”He's very nervous, and the spectacle of Reggio and his antagonist fighting like tigers for their lives must have caused him to lose his head.”

”Oh, he's all right,” said Brad hastily-”he's all right when he doesn't tell people how brave he is.”

In the meantime Reggio was rea.s.suring his sister, who had seemed quite horrified by the spectacle of her brother engaged in the deadly struggle with Nicola Mullura. He placed his arm about her supportingly, speaking soft words into her ear. She was white, and the candle in her hand trembled violently.

”What can we do, Reggio?” questioned d.i.c.k, in very poor Italian. ”The professor is gone, and the gondola with him.”

”Come in da house,” invited the gondolier, abandoning his own tongue for the time being. ”Spik da English-a to me-a. I understand-a heem vera much-a well.”

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