The Net: A Novel

The Net: A Novel

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Title: The Net
Author: Rex Beach
Release Date: August, 2004 [EBook #6379] [Yes, we are more than
one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on December 3,
2002]
Edition: 10

Language: English
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[Illustration: "I DO NOT KNOW WHY I HAVE SUMMONED YOU,"
SHE SAID]

THE NET

A NOVEL
By REX BEACH
Author of "The Spoilers," "The Barrier," "The Silver Horde," Etc.

WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS BY WALTER TITTLE

CONTENTS

CHAP.
I. THE TRAIN FROM PALERMO
II. A CONFESSION AND A PROMISE
III. THE GOLDEN GIRL
IV. THE FEAST AT TERRANOVA
V. WHAT WAITED AT THE ROADSIDE
VI. A NEW RESOLVE
VII. THE SEARCH BEGINS
VIII. OLD TRAILS
IX. "ONE WHO KNOWS"
X. MYRA NELL WARREN
XI. THE KIDNAPPING
XII. LA MAFIA XIII. THE BLOOD OF HIS ANCESTORS

XIV. THE NET TIGHTENS
XV. THE END OF THE QUEST
XVI. QUARANTINE
XVII. AN OBLIGATION IS MET
XVIII. BELISARIO CARDI
XIX. FELICITE
XX. THE MAN IN THE SHADOWS
XXI. UNDER FIRE
XXII. A MISUNDERSTANDING
XXIII. THE TRIAL AND THE VERDICT
XXIV. AT THE FEET OF THE STATUE
XXV. THE APPEAL
XXVI. AT THE DUSK

ILLUSTRATIONS
"I DO NOT KNOW WHY I HAVE SUMMONED YOU,' SHE SAID
Frontispiece "SILENZIO!" HE GROWLED, "I PLAY MY OWN
GAME, AND I LOSE"
HE WRESTLED FOR POSSESSION OF THE GUN
"P-PLEASE DON'T KILL YOURSELF, DEAR? I COULDN'T HELP
IT"

I
THE TRAIN FROM PALERMO

The train from Palermo was late. Already long, shadowy fingers were
reaching down the valleys across which the railroad track meandered.
Far to the left, out of an opalescent sea, rose the fairy-like Lipari
Islands, and in the farthest distance Stromboli lifted its smoking cone
above the horizon. On the landward side of the train, as it reeled and
squealed along its tortuous course, were gray and gold Sicilian villages
perched high against the hills or drowsing among fields of artichoke
and sumac and prickly pear.
To one familiar with modern Sicilian railway trains the journey
eastward from Palermo promises no considerable discomfort, but
twenty-five years ago it was not to be lightly undertaken--not to be

undertaken at all, in fact, without an unusual equipment of patience and
a resignation entirely lacking in the average Anglo-Saxon. It was not
surprising, therefore, that Norvin Blake, as the hours dragged along,
should remark less and less upon the beauties of the island and more
and more upon the medieval condition of the rickety railroad coach in
which he was shaken and buffeted about. He shifted himself to an
easier position upon the seat and lighted a cheroot; for although this
was his first glimpse of Sicily, he had watched the same villages come
and go all through a long, hot afternoon, had seen the same groves of
orange and lemon and dust-green olive-trees, the same fields of
Barbary figs, the same rose-grown garden spots, until he was heartily
tired of them all. He felt at liberty to smoke, for the only other occupant
of the compartment was a young priest in flowing mantle and silk
beaver hat.
Finding that Blake spoke Italian remarkably well for a foreigner, the
priest had shown an earnest desire for closer acquaintance and now
plied him eagerly with questions, hanging upon his answers with a
childlike intensity of gaze which at first had been amusing.
"And so the Signore has traveled all the way from Paris to attend the
wedding at Terranova. Veramente! That is a great journey. Many
wonderful adventures befell you, perhaps. Eh?" The priest's little eyes
gleamed from his full cheeks, and he edged forward until his knees
crowded Blake's. It was evident that he anticipated a thrilling