Aunt Jane's Nieces Abroad
"
"I assure you we have no official knowledge of such a person. There are
dukes in Sicily, to be sure; but 'Il Duca' means nothing. Perhaps you
can tell me to whom you refer?"
"See here," said the lawyer, brusquely; "I know your methods, _questore
mia_, but they won't prove effective in this case. If you think an
American is helpless in this country you are very much mistaken. But, to
save time, I am willing to submit to your official requirements. I will
pay you well for the rescue of my friend."
"All shall be done that is possible."
"But if you do not find him at once, and return him to us unharmed, I
will have a regiment of soldiers in Taormina to search your mountains
and break up the bands of brigands that infest them. When I prove that
brigands are here and that you were not aware of them, you will be
disgraced and deposed from your office."
The official shrugged his shoulders, a gesture in which the Sicilian is
as expert as the Frenchman.
"I will welcome the soldiery," said he; "but you will be able to prove
nothing. The offer of a reward may accomplish more--if it is great
enough to be interesting."
"How great is that?"
"Can I value your friend? You must name the reward yourself. But even
then I can promise nothing. In the course of our duty every effort is
now being made to find the missing American. But we work in the dark, as
you know. Your friend may be a suicide; he may have lost his mind and
wandered into the wilderness; he may have committed some crime and
absconded. How do I know? You say he is missing, but that is no reason
the brigands have him, even did brigands exist, which I doubt. Rest
assured, signore, that rigid search will be made. It is my boast that I
leave no duty unfulfilled."
Mr. Watson walked back to the telegraph office and found an answer to
his message. The American consul was ill and had gone to Naples for
treatment. When he returned, his clerk stated, the matter of the
disappearance of John Merrick would immediately be investigated.
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There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
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