Part 44 (1/2)

There was a pause, then she said, simply: ”That is a lie.”

”No, no! I saw him that night. I saw him again to-night.”

”It cannot be.”

”That is what I have said,” concurred Vittoria, with strange eagerness. ”No, no--it would be too dreadful.”

Mystified and offended, Blake defended his statement forcibly.

”Believe it or not, as you please, it is true. That night in Sicily he came among the brigands who held me prisoner. They were talking excitedly. He cried, 'Silenzio!' in a voice I can never forget. To-night he was gambling, and he lost heavily. He was furious; his friends began to chatter, and he cried that word again! I would know it a thousand years hence. I saw it all in a flash. I saw other things I had failed to grasp--his size, his appearance. I tell you he is Belisario Cardi.”

”G.o.d help me!” whispered the daughter of Ferara, crossing herself with uncertain hand. She was staring affrightedly at Vittoria. ”G.o.d help me!” She kept repeating the words and gesture.

Blake turned inquiringly to the other woman and read the truth in her eyes.

”Good Lord!” he cried. ”He is her--”

She nodded. ”They were to be married.”

Oliveta began speaking slowly to her foster sister. ”Yes, it is indeed true. I have suspected something, but I dared not tell you all--the things he said--all that I half learned and would not ask about. I was afraid to know. I closed my eyes and my ears. Body of Christ! And all the time my father's blood was on his hands!”

Vittoria appealed helplessly to Blake. ”You see how it is. What is to be done?”

But his attention was all centered upon Oliveta, whose face was changing curiously.

”His blood!” she exclaimed. ”I have loved that infamous man. His hands--” She let her gaze fall to her own, as if they too might be stained from contact.

”Does Maruffi know who you really are?” he asked.

Vittoria answered; ”No. She would have told him soon; we were waiting until we had run down those men. You see, it was largely through her that I worked. Those things which I could not discover she learned from--him. It was she who secured the names of Di Marco and Garcia and the others.”

Sudden enlightenment brought a cry from him.

”You! Then you wrote those letters! You are the 'One Who Knows'?”

Vittoria nodded; but her eyes were fixed upon the girl.

Oliveta was whispering through white lips: ”It is the will of G.o.d! He has been delivered into my hands.”

”I am beginning to--”

”Wait!” Vittoria did not withdraw her anxious gaze. After an instant she inquired, gently, ”Oliveta, what shall we do?”

”There is but one thing to do.”

”You mean--”

”I have been sent by G.o.d to betray him.” Her face became convulsed, her voice harsh. ”I curse him, living and dead, in the name of my father, in the name of Martel Savigno, who died by his hand. May he pray unheard, may he burn in agony for a thousand thousand years. Take him to the hangman, Signore. He shall die with my curse in his ears.”

”I can't bring him to justice,” Blake confessed. ”I know him to be the a.s.sa.s.sin, but my mere word isn't enough to convict him. I have no way of connecting him with the murder of Chief Donnelly, and that is what he must answer for.”