Part 13 (2/2)
Aliandro arose and peered into his visitor's face, wagging his loose jaws excitedly.
”As G.o.d is my judge,” he declared, finally, ”I believe it is, Che Dio!
Who would have expected to see you? Yes, yes! I remember as if it were yesterday when you came riding up with that most ill.u.s.trious gentleman who now sits in Paradise. It is a miracle that you have crossed the seas so many times in safety.”
”So! Now tell me what I want to know.”
”They have gone.”
”Where?”
”How do I know? Find Belisario Cardi--may he live a million years in h.e.l.l! Find him, and you will find them also.”
”You mean--”
”Find Belisario Cardi, that most infamous of a.s.sa.s.sins. My padrona has set out to say good morning to him. He may even now be on his way to purgatory.”
Blake stared at the speaker, for he could not credit the words. Once more he asked:
”But where? Where?”
”Where, indeed? If I had known in time where this Cardi lived I would have knocked at his door some evening with the hilt of a knife. But he was never twice in the same place. He has the ears of a fox. So long as the soldiers went tramping back and forth he laughed. Then he must have heard something--perhaps it was Aliandro whetting his blade--at any rate he was gone in an hour, in a moment, in a second. Now I know nothing more.”
”She took the Donna Teresa with her?”
”Yes, squealing like a cat. She is too old to be of use, but the Contessa could not leave her behind, I suppose.”
Norvin felt some relief at this intelligence, reflecting that Margherita would hardly draw her aunt into an enterprise which promised to be dangerous. As he considered the matter further he began to doubt the truth of Aliandro's story, for the old fellow seemed half daft. Perhaps the Countess and her aunt were merely traveling and Aliandro had construed their trip into a journey of vengeance. He had doubtless spent all his time meditating upon the murder of his friend and benefactor, and that was a subject which might easily unbalance a stronger mind. Ten months had worked a change in Blake's viewpoint.
When he left Sicily the idea of a girl's devoting her life to the pursuit of her lover's a.s.sa.s.sins had seemed to him extravagant, yet not wholly unnatural. Now it struck him as beyond belief that Margherita should really do this. Aliandro was continuing:
”It is work for young hands, Excellency. Old people grow weary and forget, especially women. Now that Lucrezia, she is a fine child; she can hate like the devil himself and she is as silent as a Mafioso. It was two months ago that they went away, and that angel of gold, that sweetest of ladies whom the saints are quarreling over, she left me sufficient money for the balance of my days. But I will tell you something, Excellency--a scandal to make your blood boil. She left that money with the notary. And now, what do you think? He gives me scarcely enough for tobacco! Once a week, sometimes oftener, I go down to the village and whine like a beggar for what is mine. A fine man to trust, eh? May he lie unburied! Sometimes I think I shall have to kill him, he is so hard-hearted, but--I cannot see well enough. If you should find him kicking in the road, however, you will know that he brought it upon himself. You are shocked? No wonder. He is a greater scoundrel than that Judas. Perhaps you--you are a great friend of the family--perhaps you might force the wolf to disgorge. Eh? What do you say? A word would do it. You will save his life in all probability.”
”Very well, I'll speak to him, and meanwhile here is something to please you.” Norvin handed the old ruffian a gold coin, greatly to his delight. ”They have been gone two months and you have had no word?”
”Not a whisper. Once a week the notary comes up from the village to see that all is well with the house. Many people have asked me the same questions you asked. Some of them know me, and I know some who think I do not. They would like to trick me into betraying the whereabouts of the Contessa, but I lie like a lawyer and tell them first one thing, then another. Body of Christ! I am no fool.”
When Norvin had put himself in possession of all that Aliandro knew he retraced his steps to the village, where the notary confirmed practically all the old man had said, but declared positively that the Countess and her admirable aunt were traveling for pleasure.
”What else would take them abroad?” he inquired. ”Nothing! I have the honor to look after the castello during their absence and the rents from the land are placed in the bank at Messina.”
”When do you expect them to return?”
”Privately, Signore, I do not expect them to return at all. That shocking tragedy preyed upon the poor child's mind until she could no longer endure Terranova. She is highly sensitive, you know; everything spoke of Martel Savigno. What more natural than for her to wish never to see it again? She consulted me once regarding a sale of all the lands, and only last week some men came with a letter from the bank at Messina. They were Englishmen, I believe, or perhaps Germans--I can never tell the difference, if indeed there is any. I showed them through the house. It would be a great loss to the village, however, yes, and to the whole countryside, if they purchased Terranova, for the Countess was like a ray of suns.h.i.+ne, like an angel's smile. And so generous!”
”Tell me--Cardi was never found?”
The notary shrugged his shoulders. ”As for me, I have never believed there was such a person. Gian Narcone, yes. We all knew him, but he has not been heard from since that terrible night which we both remember. Now this Cardi, well, he is imaginary. If he were flesh and blood the carabinieri would certainly have caught him--there were enough of them. Per Baccho! You never saw the like of it. They were thicker than flies.”
”And yet they didn't catch Narcone, and he's real enough.”
<script>