Part 43 (2/2)
She paled; her eyes flamed.
”Yes--it's incredible.” His voice shook. ”I know the man well, that's the marvel of it. I've trusted him; I've rubbed shoulders with him; I went to him to-night to enlist his aid.” He paused, realizing for the first time that the mystery of those letters was now deeper than ever.
If Maruffi had not written them, who then? ”He's the best and richest Italian in the city. G.o.d! The thing is appalling.”
”He must go to justice,” said Vittoria, quietly. ”His name?”
”Caesar Maruffi!”
The girl's eager look faded into one of blank dismay.
”No!” she said, strangely. ”No!”
”Do you know him?”
In a daze she nodded; then cast a hurried, frightened look over her shoulder.
”Madonna mia! Caesar Maruffi!” Disbelief and horror leaped into her eyes. ”You are mad! Not Caesar. I do not believe it.”
”Caesar, _Caesar_.” he cried.” Why do you call him that? Why do you doubt? What is he to you?”
She drew away with a look that brought him to his senses.
”There is no mistake,” he mumbled.” He is Cardi. I know it. I--”
”Wait, wait; don't tell me.” She went groping uncertainly to the door.
”Don't tell me yet.”
A moment later he heard her call:
”Oliveta! Come quickly, sorella mia. A friend. Quickly!”
Oliveta--recognizably the same girl that he had known in Sicily-- entered with her black brows lifted in anxious inquiry, her dark eyes wide with apprehension.
”Some evil has befallen; tell me!” she said, wasting no time in greeting.
”No. Nothing evil,” Blake a.s.sured her.
”Our friend has made a terrible discovery,” said Vittoria, in a faint voice. ”I cannot believe--I--want you to hear, carina.” She motioned to Norvin.
”I have been seeking our enemy, Belisario Cardi, and--I have found him.”
Oliveta cried out in fierce triumph: ”G.o.d be praised! He lives; that is enough. I feared he had cheated us.”
”Listen!” exclaimed Vittoria, in such a tone that the peasant girl started. ”You don't understand.”
”I understand nothing except that he lives. His blood shall wash our blood. That is what we swore, and I have never forgotten, even though you have. He shall go to meet his dead, and his soul shall be accursed.” She spoke with the same hysterical ferocity as when she had cursed her father's murderer in the castello of Terranova.
”He calls himself Caesar Maruffi,” Blake told her.
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