sures--and so obtain for myself and my family a
modest livelihood."

"And you expect to sell something to me?" asked Uncle John,
understanding very well the Sicilian's meaning.

"It is my earnest hope, signore."

The American fell silent, thinking upon the situation. The fierce
looking brigand beside him was absurd enough, in his way, but doubtless
a dangerous man to deal with. Uncle John was greatly interested in the
adventure. It was such a sharp contrast to the hum-drum, unromantic
American life he had latterly known that he derived a certain enjoyment
from the novel experience. If the girls did not worry over his absence
he would not much regret his visit to Il Duca's secluded valley.

It was already midday, and his nieces would be expecting him to
luncheon. When he did not appear they would make enquiries, and try to
find him. It occurred to him how futile all such attempts must prove.
Even to one acquainted with the mountain paths the entrance to the
duke's domain was doubtless a secret, and the brigand had plainly hinted
that the native Sicilians were too cautious to spy upon him or molest
him in any way.

So far, the only person he had seen was Il Duca himself. The child who
had decoyed him was, of course, somewhere about, and so also was
Ferralti. How many servants or followers the brigand might have was as
yet a mystery to the new arrival.

In the side pocket of Uncle John's loose coat lay a loaded revolver,
which he had carried ever since he had received Mr. Watson's warning
letter. He had never imagined a condition of danger where he could not
use this weapon to defend himself, and as long as it remained by him he
had feared nothing. But he had been made a prisoner in so deft a manner
that he had no opportunity to expostulate or offer any sort of
resistance. Later there might be a chance to fight for his liberty, and
the only sensible action was to wait and bide his time.

"For example," the Duke was saying, in his labored, broken English, "I
have here a priceless treasure--very antique, very beautiful. It was in
one time owned by Robert the Norman, who presented it to my greatest
ancestor."

He drew an odd-shaped ring from his pocket and handed it to the
American. It was of dull gold and set with a half dozen flat-cut
garnets. Perhaps antique; perhaps not; but of little intrinsic value.

"This ring I have decided to sell, and it shall be yours, Signor
Merreek, at a price far less than is represen