The Idaho Republican. [volume] (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1904-1932, 1905-01-20

Of utter content and placid happiness:
"Mutterelli!' l said in a whisper.
which was all the voice I could raise.
Mutterelli laid down his knife and
came toward me.
you called, signor," he said.
Where is the monk?" l asked.
Mutterelli put his finger to his lips.
you are not to talk, signor," he
said. BE patient, and when you are
stronger We will speak of it. You
have been very i'll, signor."
How long have been in the grot-
to, Mutterelli?" l asked.
Sixteen days, signor."
I sank back on my fur couch, over
come by a sense of weakness and ut
ter helplessness. Sixteen daysl And
1t seemed as though 1t was but an
hour since the monk had carried me
into the grotto, and had set about
dressing my wound. And the change
from the monk to Mutterelli was so
strange, so unexpected. Yet Mutter-
ELI was calm, and seemed perfectly
at home in this strange place.
When he had replied to my last
question he offered me glass OF wine,
which l drank. Then he turned and
walked out of the grotta remem-
bered that he had done this when I
first saw and recognizei aim, and
realized that this was his method of
enforcing silence. So alone l lay, and
in my weakness wondered what chain
of circumstances had led Mutterelli
to the grotto.
In about an hour Mutterelli re.
turned.
He slowly rolled a cigarette in his
fingers and lighted it, drew a stool
near my bed and sat down.
How do you feel, signor?" he
asked.
II feel much better" replied.
Mutterelli was evidently going to
talk, so l waited patiently for him to
begin.
"You have been very sick, signor,"
uc 5dlu ~ 10 INV oAASOVA
days since you came here"
eyes," replied; 80 you told me
before. But how many days is It
since you came here?"
Sixteen, signor," he replied calm.
ly.
"You followed me?"
Eyes, signor l was told where to
find YOU"
"Then my hiding place is known!"
said.
Eyes, signor. Your hiding place is
known to me and to the monk who;
brought you here. That is ALL"
"And you saw the monk? You must
have seen him, for he only could tell
you where to find me-"
eyes, signor, saw the monk. He
is good monk, signor. I alone in
Sardinia have his confidence. The
monk and I belong to the same secret
society, signor, though I am but a
poor member. See, signor?"
What is his name, Mutterelli?"
"He is Brother Michael. signor, Of
the Order of Jeslits. He is high in
favor with the general of the order,
signor, and travels much, doing mis-.
sionary work.
The exerticn of talking had been
severe and felt that must stop.
"You are weary, signor," said Nut
terelli. "You have talked too much.
You must rest. will leave you."
He sauntered toward the entrance
to the grotto, and saw him pause
long enough to twist the end Of an
other cigarette and light it. Then he
disappeared through the marble arch.
lay back on my furs, wondering.
There was, in my mind, vague yet
rapidly growing conviction that Mutt
terelli and the monk were one and
the same. The timely meeting be-
tween the monk and Mutterelli; the
implicit confidence which the monk
.eposed in Mutterelli, who, knew,
mad a price-all these things, as
thought them over, convinced me that
Mutterelli was Brother Michael and
Brother Michael was Mutterelli. So
far he had done well. But how was
I ever to get away from Sardinia, and
how was l going to continue my ef-
forts to restore Nita Barlotti to the
sphere in life to which I knew she
belonged?
r. hn