"What must we do, Frascatti?" asked Patsy.
"Wait. In a day--two days, perhaps--you will hear from your uncle. He
will tell you how to send money to the lawless ones. You will follow his
instructions, and he will come home with smiles and singing. I know. It
is very regrettable, but it is so."
"It will not be so in this case," said Beth, indignantly. "I will see
the American consul--"
"I am sorry, but there is none here."
"I will telegraph to Messina for the military. They will search the
mountains, and bring your brigands to justice."
Frascatti smiled sadly.
"Oh, yes; perhaps they will come. But the military is Italian--not
Sicilian--and has no experience in these parts. The search will find
nothing, except perhaps a dead body thrown upon the rocks to defy
justice. It is very regrettable, signorina; but it is so."
Patsy was wringing her hands, frantic with terror. Louise was white and
staring. Beth puckered her pretty brow in a frown and tried to think.
"Ferralti is also gone," murmured Louise, in a hoarse voice. "They will
rob or murder him with Uncle John!"
"I am quite convinced," said Beth, coldly, "that your false count is a
fellow conspirator of the brigand called Il Duca. He has been following
us around to get a chance to ensnare Uncle John."
"Oh, no, no, Beth! It is not so! I know better than that.
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