Aunt Jane's Nieces Abroad
But I suppose you're afraid the
no-account Count won't figure his life is worth thirty thousand dollars.
It does seem like an awful price to pay for a foreigner."
"It isn't that," said Louise, striving to control her emotion. "He says
he hates to be robbed. He wouldn't pay a penny if he could help it."
"Good for the Count! I don't blame him a bit," exclaimed Beth. "It is a
beastly shame that free born Americans should be enslaved by a crew of
thieving Sicilians, and obliged to purchase their freedom!"
"True for you," said Kenneth, nodding. "But what are we going to do
about it?"
"Pay, of course," decided Patsy, promptly. "Our Uncle John is too
precious to be sacrificed for all the money in the world. Come; let's go
and find Mr. Watson. We ought not to lose a moment's time."
The lawyer read Uncle John's letter carefully, as well as the one from
Count Ferralti, which Louise confided to him with the request that he
keep the young man's identity a secret for a time, until he could reveal
it to her cousins in person.
"The only thing to be done," announced Mr. Watson, "is to carry out
these instructions faithfully. We can send the cable messages from here,
and in the morning Louise and I will take the train for Messina and
remain there until we get the money."
"It's an outrage!" cried Beth.
"Of course, my dear. But it can't be helped. And your uncle is wise to
take the matter so cheerfully. After all, it is little enough to pay
for one's life and liberty, and our friend is so wealthy that he will
never feel the loss at all."
"It isn't that; it's the principle of the thing that I object to," said
the girl. "It's downright disgraceful to be robbed so easily."
"To be sure; but the disgrace is Italy's, not ours. Object all you want
to, Beth, dear," continued the old lawyer, smiling at her; "but
nevertheless we'll pay as soon as possible, and have done with it. What
we want now is your Uncle John, and we want him mighty badly."
"Really, the pirates didn't charge enough for him," added Patsy.
- Page:
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- 116
- 117
- 118
- 119
- 120
- 121
- 122
- 123
- 124
- 125
- 126
- 127
- 128
- 129
- 130
- 131
- 132
- 133
- 134
- 135
- 136
- 137
- 138
- 139
- 140
- 141
- 142
- 143
- 144
- 145
- 146
- 147
- 148
- 149
- 150
- 151
- 152
- 153
- 154
- 155
- 156
- 157
There was once a king who was very powerful. He had great influence over the wild beasts and animals. Now the tortoise was looked upon as the wisest of all beasts and men. This king had a son named Ekpenyon, to whom he gave fifty young girls as wives, but the prince did not like any of them. The king was very angry at this, and made a law that if any man had a daughter who was finer than the prince's wives, and who found favour in his son's eyes, the girl herself and her father and mother should be killed.
© 2013-2019 FairyTales
Almost all texts on this website are from the Public Domain.