The Brotherhood of the Seven Kings | Page 7

little boy, engage rooms for the night?" I asked of the proprietor in the bureau at the top of the stairs.
"No, sir," answered the man; "they breakfasted here, but did not return. I think they said they were going to the gardens of San Antonio."
For a minute or two I paced the hall in uncontrollable excitement. I was completely at a loss what step to take next. Then suddenly an idea struck me. I hurried down the steps and made my way to Cook's office.
"A gentleman of that description took two tickets for Naples by the Spartivento, a Rupertino boat, two hours ago," said the clerk, in answer to my inquiries. "She has started by now," he continued, glancing up at the clock.
"To Naples?" I cried. A sickening fear seized me. The very name of the hated place struck me like a poisoned weapon.
"Is it too late to catch her?" I cried.
"Yes, sir, she has gone."
"Then what is the quickest route by which I can reach Naples?"
"You can go by the Gingra, a P. & 0. boat, to-night to Brindisi, and then overland. That is the quickest way now."
I at once took my passage and left the office. There was not the least doubt what had occurred. Dr. Fietta had missed his syringe, and in consequence had immediately altered his plans. He was now taking the lad to the very fountain-head of the Brotherhood, where other means if necessary would be employed to put an end to his life.
It was nine o'clock in the evening, three days later, when, from the window of the railway carriage, I caught my first glimpse of the glow on the summit of Vesuvius. During the journey I had decided on my line of action. Leaving my luggage in the cloak-room I entered a carriage and began to visit hotel after hotel. For a long time I had no success. It was past eleven o'clock that night when, weary and heart-sick, I drew up at the Hotel Londres. I went to the concierge with my usual question, expecting the invariable reply, but a glow of relief swept over me when the man said:
"Dr. Fietta is out, sir, but the young man is in. He is in bed ? will you call to-morrow? What name shall I say?"
"I shall stay here," I answered; "let me have a room at once, and have my bag taken to it. What is the number of Lord Kairn's room?"
"Number forty-six. But he will be asleep, sir; you cannot see him now."
I made no answer, but going quickly upstairs, I found the boy's room. I knocked; there was no reply, I turned the handle and entered. All was dark. Striking a match I looked round. In a white bed at the farther end lay the child. I went up and bent softly over him. He was lying with one hand beneath his cheek. He looked worn and tired, and now and then moaned as if in trouble. When I touched him lightly on the shoulder he started up and opened his eyes. A dazed expression of surprise swept over his face; then with an eager cry he stretched out both his hands and clasped one of mine.
"I am so glad to see you," he said. "Dr. Fietta told me you were angry ? that I had offended you. I very nearly cried when I missed you that morning at Malta, and Dr. Fietta said I should never see you any more. I don't like him ? I am afraid of him. Have you come to take me home?" As he spoke he glanced eagerly round in the direction of the door, clutching my hand still tighter as he did so.
"Yes, I shall take you home, Cecil. I have come for the purpose," I answered; "but are you quite well?"
"That's just it; I am not. I have awful dreams at night. Oh, I am so glad you have come back and you are not angry. Did you say you were really going to take me home?"
"To-morrow, if you like."
"Please do. I am ? stoop down, I want to whisper to you ? I am dreadfully afraid of Dr. Fietta."
"What is your reason?" I asked.
"There is no reason," answered the child, "but somehow I dread him. I have done so ever since you left us at Malta. Once I woke in the middle of the night and he was bending over me ? he had such a queer look on his face, and he used that syringe again. He was putting something into my arm ? he told me it was morphia. I did not want him to do it, for I thought you would rather he didn't. I wish mother had sent me away with you. I am afraid of him; yes,