kissed him with passionate earnestness.

Silently the Duchessa watched the scene. Her face was as pallid and
immobile as ever; even the eyes seemed to have lost expression. But the
next words showed that she was still unconquered.

"You shall take the money of the fat pig of an American; it is well to
do so. But the youth who boldly calls himself Ferralti shall make no
tribute to this family. He shall die as I have declared."

"I will not take the risk," asserted the Duke, sourly.

"Have the others who lie in the pit told tales?" she demanded.

"No; but they died alone. Here are two Americans our prisoners, and
they have many and powerful friends, both at Taormina and at Naples. The
man Merrick, when he goes, will tell that Ferralti is here. To obtain
his person, alive or dead, the soldiers will come here and destroy us
all. It is folly, and shows you are old and imbecile."

"Then go!" she cried, fiercely. "Go, you and Tato; take your money and
escape. And leave me my valley, and the youth Ferralti, and my revenge.
Then, if I die, if the soldiers destroy me, it is my own doing."

"In this new world, of which you know nothing, escape is not possible,"
replied the duke, after a moment's thought. "Ferralti must be accounted
for, and because I captured him they would accuse me of his death, and
even Tato might be made to suffer. No, madame. Both the Americans must
be killed, or both set free for ransom."

Uncle John gave a start of dismay. Here was a development he had not
expected.

"Then," said the old woman, positively, "let them both die."

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Tato. "Not that, grandmother!"

"Certainly not so," agreed the Duke. "We want their money."

"You are already rich," said the Duchessa. "You have yourself said so,
and I know it is truth."

"This new world," explained the Duke, "contains of luxuries many that
you have no understanding of. To be rich to-day requires more money than
in your days, madre mia. With these ransoms, which already we have won,
we shall have enough. Without this money my Tato would lack much that I
desire for her. So of new murders I will take no risk, for the bambina's
sake."

"And my revenge?"

"Bah, of what use is it? Because the boy's father married my sister
Bianca, and ill-treated her, must we kill their offspring?"

"He is his father's son. The father, you say, is dead, and so also is my
child Bianca. Then my hatred falls upon the son Arturo, and he must die
to av