The little party of Americans was fairly astounded by this unexpected
visit. Kenneth regretted that he had left his revolver upstairs, but the
others remembered that the brigand would not dare to molest them in the
security of the hotel grounds, and were more curious than afraid.
Il Duca's hand was wrapped in a bandage, but the damaged finger did not
seem to affect him seriously. Beth could not take her eyes off this
dreadful evidence of her late conflict, and stared at it as if the
bandage fascinated her.
"Signore," said the Duke, addressing Uncle John especially, "I owe to
you my apologies and my excuses for the annoyance I have caused to you
and your friends. I have the explanation, if you will so kindly permit
me."
"Fire away, Duke," was the response.
"Signore, I unfortunately come of a race of brigands. For centuries my
family has been lawless and it was natural that by education I, too,
should become a brigand. In my youth my father was killed in an affray
and my mother took his place, seizing many prisoners and exacting from
them ransom. My mother you have seen, and you know of her sudden madness
and of her death. She was always mad, I think, and by nature a fiend.
She urged my elder brother to wicked crimes, and when he rebelled she
herself cast him, in a fit of anger, into the pit.
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