asked, eagerly.
"Yes," said the other, after a considerable pause. Then he added, with
an involuntary sigh, "I had been following his movements for some time;
but the Camorra stepped in. They are foolish people, those
Camorristi--foolish and ignorant. They punish for very trifling
offences, and they do not make sufficient warning of their punishments.
Then they are quite imbecile in the way they attempt to regulate labor."
He was now talking in quite a matter-of-fact way. The clinched hand was
relaxed.
"Besides," continued Ferdinand Lind, with the cool air of a critic,
"their conduct is too scandalous. The outer world believes they are
nothing but an association of thieves and cut-throats; that is because
they do not discountenance vulgar and useless crime; because there is
not enough authority, nor any proper selection of members. In the
affairs of the world, one has sometimes to make use of queer
agents--that is admitted; and you cannot have any large body of people
without finding a few scoundrels among them. I suppose one might even
say that about your very respectable Church of England. But you only
bring a society into disrepute--you rob it of much usefulness--you put
the law and society against it--when you make it the refuge of common
murderers and thieves."
"I should hope so," remarked George Brand. If this suspected foreigner
had resumed his ordinary manner, so had he; he was again the haughty,
suspicious, almost supercilious Englishman.
Poor Lord Evelyn! The lad looked quite distressed. These two men were so
obviously antipathetic that it seemed altogether hopeless to think of
their ever coming together.
"Well," said Mr. Lind, in his ordinary polished and easy manner, "I must
not seek to detain you; for it is a cold night to keep horses waiting.
But, Mr. Brand, Lord Evelyn dines with us to-morrow evening; if you have
nothing better to do, will you join our little party? My daughter, I am
sure, will be most pleased to make your acquaintance."
"Do, Brand, there's a good fellow;" struck in his friend. "I haven't
seen anything of you for such a long time."
"I shall be very happy indeed," said the tall Englishman, wondering
whether he was likely to meet a goodly assemblage of sedition-mongers at
this foreign persons table.
"We dine at a quarter to eight. The address is No. ---- Curzon Street; but
perhaps you had better take this card."
So they left, and were conducted down the staircase by t
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