wly arose and left the veranda.

For a moment the American looked after them with a puzzled expression.
Then he said to himself, with a smile: "Ah, I have solved one mystery,
at any rate. Tato is a girl!"

CHAPTER XIX

A DIFFICULT POSITION

And now Uncle John, finding himself left alone, took his walkingstick
and started out to explore the valley.

He felt very sorry for young Ferralti, but believed his sympathy could
in no way lighten the blow caused by the abrupt news of his parent's
death. He would wish to be alone with his grief for a time. By and by
Mr. Merrick intended to question his fellow prisoner and try to find out
something of his history.

The dale was very beautiful as it lay basking in the afternoon sun. Near
the house was a large vegetable garden, which, being now shaded by the
overhanging cliffs, was being tended by a sour-visaged Sicilian. Uncle
John watched him for a time, but the fellow paid no heed to him. Every
servant connected with the duke's establishment seemed surly and morose,
and this was the more remarkable because the country folk and villagers
Uncle John had met were usually merry and light-hearted.

Down by the brook were green meadows and groves of fruit trees. The
little gentleman followed the stream for some distance, and finally came
upon a man seated on the bank above a broad pool, intently engaged in
fishing. It proved to be the dandified old doctor, who wore gloves to
protect his hands and a broad-rimmed straw hat to shade his face.

Uncle John stood beside the motionless figure for a moment, watching the
line. Then, forgetting he was in a foreign country, he asked carelessly:

"Any luck?"

"Not yet," was the quiet reply, in clear English. "It is too early to
interest the fishes. An hour later they will bite."

"Then why did you come so soon?"

"To escape that hell-hole yonder," nodding his head toward the house.

Uncle John was surprised.

"But you are not a prisoner, doctor," he ventured to say.

"Except through the necessity of earning a livelihood. Il Duca pays
well--or rather the Duchessa does, for she is the head of this
household. I am skillful, and worth my price, and they know it."

"You say the Duchessa is the head of the house?"

"Assuredly, signore. Il Duca is her slave. She plans and directs
everything, and her son but obeys her will."

"Did she send him to America?"

"I think so. But do not misunderstand me. The Duke is clever on his ow