CHAPTER XX.

THE OATH OF TERESA.

Fearing she might do something rash in her distress and occasional spells of delirium, Dick and Brad took turns watching over Teresa that night.

The girl was given one of the three rooms taken by the professor and the boys in a private house. It was useless to urge her to retire. With the horror of what had happened, upon her, and in great fear that Mullura would find her, she kept her clothes on and slept on the outside of the bed. The door between that room and the adjoining one, in which the boys remained that they might be near her, was left slightly ajar at her request.

It was long past midnight before she slept at all. When they peered in, they discovered her lying staring up at the ceiling, her face pale and her lips moving, as if in prayer.

“Pard,” said Brad, “she sure is a right pretty girl.”

“She is,” agreed Dick. “But you mustn’t forget Nadia Budthorne, old man.”

“Now quit!” remonstrated the Texan soberly. “No danger that I’ll get smashed on this girl, partner. My sympathy for her is aroused a heap, that’s all.”

“When a fellow becomes very sympathetic for a pretty girl, he’s liable to fall in love with her. I fancy your sympathy was aroused for Nadia, to begin with.”

“Well, I don’t judge it was a case of sympathy between you and June Arlington.”

“She certainly deserves sympathy,” said Dick. “Think of her fine brother!”

“I don’t want to think of him!” growled the Texan. “Of all onery coyotes, he certain is the worst!”

“He’s about as bad as they make ’em,” nodded Dick.

“And to think that you even fancied there could be any good in him! Long ago you could have turned him out of Fardale by speaking a word, but you let up on him until at last he drove you out. Pard, I say fair and open that I like you a-plenty, but I do think you made a mistake with Arlington. You must know it now.”

Dick was silent for some moments.

“Perhaps you are right,” he finally confessed. “I suppose you are. But I had rather make a mistake by being too generous than to make one in the opposite direction. It isn’t natural for me to be easy with an enemy. I love revenge. But I took my brother for my model. I’m not sorry, either. I think I have changed my revengeful nature to a certain degree. The best friend Frank has in the world, Bart Hodge, was originally his bitterest enemy. Had Frank been revengeful, Hodge might have been ruined. He says so himself. Even if Frank were to make a hundred mistakes in generosity, that one instance—that one good result—would more than outweigh them all. Had I been revengeful, I should have fought Hal Darrell to the bitter end. Such a struggle between us must have been disastrous for one of us at Fardale. I became satisfied that there was little chance that Arlington would reform, and, after becoming thus satisfied, I continued to be lenient with him. You know I gave my promise to his sister, and I couldn’t go back on my word.”

“She must be a whole lot sore with herself for exacting such a promise. Wonder what she thinks about it now?”

“I don’t know. I’ll know some time. But Arlington is not going to triumph in the end. I shall return to Fardale. We’re both going back with the professor. Then it will be my day.”

“And I sure hope you make the most of it. If you get your innings, it will be up to you to rub it into Arlington good and hard.”

This led them to speculating about what was taking place at the old school while they were traveling in foreign lands. They remained talking in low tones until finally, on peering into the next room, it was found that Teresa had fallen asleep.

Brad went to bed, with the understanding that he was to be called at a certain hour for the purpose of remaining on guard during the latter part of the night. Already Professor Gunn was snoring in his room.

Buckhart was soon sleeping. About an hour later Dick heard a low, moaning sound coming from the girl’s room.

He hastened to the door.

Teresa was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped over her heart, staring fixedly at the wall, the moaning sound issuing from her pale lips. Merriwell lost no time in reaching her side.

“What is it?” he asked. “Is there anything I can do, Teresa?”

“Look!” she whispered. “I see him—I see my brother, dead on the stairs! Nicola Mullura has killed him!”

“There, there!” said the boy, soothingly, trying his best to speak her language so she would understand. “You must sleep—you must try to forget it for a while.”

Night passed and morning came, and a great change had come over Teresa. She even greeted her friends with a smile!

“I am glad to see you feel better, Teresa,” said Dick.

“I do feel better, good friend. I am almost happy now.”

“Great horn spoon!” muttered Brad. “And she saw her brother done to death last night! Trouble runs off these Venetians like water off a duck.”

They had breakfast, and through it all the girl maintained the same unnatural light and lively manner.

After breakfast she suggested that, in order to bring no further peril on them, she should depart.

“Not at all!” cried Zenas. “You must remain right here. I am going to the authorities. I am going to inform them all about this band of Ten. I’ll know if they will permit such a thing in Venice. They must bestir themselves! It is high time.”

“Then you may leave me here,” said Teresa eagerly.

At the first opportunity, young Merriwell called Brad into one of the other rooms.

“Brad, I want you to remain here and keep watch over Teresa,” he said. “She is not herself, and may do something rash. Professor Gunn and I are going to see the authorities. Then we’re going to see that a search is made for the body of Reggio. I don’t believe it will be found, for I have an idea that the assassins cast it into the water, and the tide has carried it far out to sea before this. Still it is our duty to have a search made for it.”

“Sure as shooting.”

“You’ll watch her closely, Brad?”

“She may object some, but I’ll do my prettiest, Dick.”

“Good! Now, I have to explain to her and urge her to remain here until we bring back some sort of a report.”

Teresa frowned and shook her head when he told her of the plan.

“I want no one to stay,” she said. “You shall all go.”

“Oh, no, no!” put in Professor Gunn. “We couldn’t think of that, my dear—couldn’t think of it. It wouldn’t be proper. Bradley will remain here to protect you from peril of any sort, and I assure you that he is a brave and noble lad. I do not think I quite understand him at school, but since seeing that he is brave as a lion and generous to a fault, I appreciate him fully.”

“Thank you, professor,” said the Texan. “You’re some complimentary this morning.”

“But not flattering. The truth is never flattery if it is spoken in the right spirit. I am proud to pay this tribute to your fine qualities. I shall be proud to do so before the entire school when we return to Fardale.”

“Oh, Jerusalem! don’t do that, professor!” gasped Buckhart, appalled. “I wouldn’t have you for a barrel of money!”

“Eh? Wouldn’t? Why not?”

“Why, I’d certain take to the tall timber on the jump if you did it. I’d hunt a hole and stay there till the fellows forgot it. They would guy me to death.”

“Would they?” cried Zenas, surprised and displeased. “Now, don’t you think anything of the sort! I’d like to know of them trying it.”

“But you wouldn’t know, you see.”

“You might tell me. It would be your duty to tell me.”

“People do not always do their duty in this world.”

The old pedagogue was surprised and puzzled. He had not fancied Buckhart a modest boy, but now, of a sudden, he realized that the Texan was genuinely modest in a way.

“We’ll say no more about it now, Bradley,” he said gravely. “I believe I am beginning to understand you more and more. You are a very singular lad—very.”

In spite of Teresa’s objections, Brad was left to look out for her, while Dick and the professor departed.

More than two hours later they returned. They had succeeded in reporting to the authorities, but their tale had been received with such apparent incredulity that both were vexed and angered. They had received a promise that the matter should be investigated. More than that, an official had accompanied them to the home of the Tortoras.

On arriving there they found the broken door had been restored and repaired, although not all the signs of the attack upon it had been hidden. There was no blood on the steps outside the door, nor on the stairs where Reggio had been stabbed by Mullura.

The body of the gondolier was not found.

The woman who owned the house explained that there had been carousing in the rooms the previous night, and that her tenants, apparently fearing ejectment, had vanished ere morning.

“But they left all their belongings here,” said Professor Gunn.

“No, no!” exclaimed the woman. “They took everything. Not one thing belonging to them did they leave.”

She persisted in this statement, and all the questions put to her did not confuse her. She also declared she had found no trace of blood on the stairs.

“Then why have those stairs been washed this morning?” demanded Dick.

“It is my custom to have them washed every morning.”

“Question others in the house,” urged Professor Gunn.

But other people in the house were very loath to answer questions, and no satisfaction could be obtained from them.

“They are one and all terrified by the Ten,” asserted Dick. “They dare not confess that they heard the sounds of the fight last night. It is likely they have been warned to be silent.”

“It’s a fine state of affairs!” exclaimed Zenas, exasperated.

The official made a gesture of helplessness.

“You see there is nothing that can be done, signors,” he said.

“And are you going to let this thing go right on in Venice? It will ruin your city. You may have kept it quiet thus far, but it shall be published to the world now. Travelers will cease coming here. Then what will you do? You live off tourists. But for them the city would go to the dogs in a short time. It’s up to you to take hold of this matter in earnest and bring this band of robbers and assassins to justice.”

“We care not for your advice,” was the haughty answer.

That ended it. Believing nothing could be done, Dick and the professor finally returned to their waiting gondola, and gave the gondolier directions to take them back to their lodgings. The official entered his boat and was rowed away.

Zenas fussed and fumed, but it was useless. Dick took it more calmly.

But when they reached their own rooms an unpleasant surprise awaited them.

Teresa was gone.

Likewise Brad Buckhart!