inevidence. But if you think that he has acted from motives which arenot criminal, and which he would wish to have known, then you cannotserve him better than by telling us the whole story."
"Now that Gorgiano is dead we fear nothing," said the lady. "He was adevil and a monster, and there can be no judge in the world who wouldpunish my husband for having killed him."
"In that case," said Holmes, "my suggestion is that we lock this door,leave things as we found them, go with this lady to her room, and formour opinion after we have heard what it is that she has to say to us."
Half an hour later we were seated, all four, in the small sitting-roomof Signora Lucca, listening to her remarkable narrative of thosesinister events, the ending of which we had chanced to witness. Shespoke in rapid and fluent but very unconventional English, which, forthe sake of clearness, I will make grammatical.
"I was born in Posilippo, near Naples," said she, "and was the daughterof Augusto Barelli, who was the chief lawyer and once the deputy ofthat part. Gennaro was in my father's employment, and I came to lovehim, as any woman must. He had neither money nor position--nothing buthis beauty and strength and energy--so my father forbade the match. Wefled together, were married at Bari, and sold my jewels to gain themoney which would take us to America. This was four years ago, and wehave been in New York ever since.
"Fortune was very good to us at first. Gennaro was able to do aservice to an Italian gentleman--he saved him from some ruffians in theplace called the Bowery, and so made a powerful friend. His name wasTito Castalotte, and he was the senior partner of the great firm ofCastalotte and Zamba, who are the chief fruit importers of New York.Signor Zamba is an invalid, and our new friend Castalotte has all powerwithin the firm, which employs more than three hundred men. He took myhusband into his employment, made him head of a department, and showedhis good-will towards him in every way. Signor Castalotte was abachelor, and I believe that he felt as if Gennaro was his son, andboth my husband and I loved him as if he were our father. We had takenand furnished a little house in Brooklyn, and our whole future seemedassured when that black cloud appeared which was soon to overspread oursky.
"One night, when Gennaro returned from his work, he brought afellow-countryman back with him. His name was Gorgiano, and he hadcome also from Posilippo. He was a huge man, as you can testify, foryou have looked upon his corpse. Not only was his body that of a giantbut everything about him was grotesque, gigantic, and terrifying. Hisvoice was like thunder in our little house. There was scarce room forthe whirl of his great arms as he talked. His thoughts, his emotions,his passions, all were exaggerated and monstrous. He talked, or ratherroared, with such energy that others could but sit and listen, cowedwith the mighty stream of words. His eyes blazed at you and held youat his mercy. He was a terrible and wonderful man. I thank God thathe is dead!
"He came again and again. Yet I was aware that Gennaro was no morehappy than I was in his presence. My poor husband would sit pale andlistless, listening to the endless raving upon politics and upon socialquestions which made up our visitor's conversation. Gennaro saidnothing, but I, who knew him so well, could read in his face someemotion which I had never seen there before. At first I thought thatit was dislike. And then, gradually, I understood that it was morethan dislike. It was fear--a deep, secret, shrinking fear. Thatnight--the night that I read his terror--I put my arms round him and Iimplored him by his love for me and by all that he held dear to holdnothing from me, and to tell me why this huge man overshadowed him so.
"He told me, and my own heart grew cold as ice as I listened. My poorGennaro, in his wild and fiery days, when all the world seemed againsthim and his mind was driven half mad by the injustices of life, hadjoined a Neapolitan society, the Red Circle, which was allied to theold Carbonari. The oaths and secrets of this brotherhood werefrightful, but once within its rule no escape was possible. When wehad fled to America Gennaro thought that he had cast it all offforever. What was his horror one evening to meet in the streets thevery man who had initiated him in Naples, the giant Gorgiano, a man whohad earned the name of 'Death' in the south of Italy, for he was red tothe elbow in murder! He had come to New York to avoid the Italianpolice, and he had already planted a branch of this dreadful society inhis new home. All this Gennaro told me and showed me a summons whichhe had received that very day, a Red Circle drawn upon the head of ittelling him that a lodge would be held upon a certain date, and thathis presence at it was required and ordered.
"That was bad enough, but worse was to come. I had noticed for sometime that when Gorgiano came to us, as he constantly did, in theevening, he spoke much to me; and even when his words were to myhusband those terrible, glaring, wild-beast eyes of his were alwaysturned upon me. One night his secret came out. I had awakened what hecalled 'love' within him--the love of a brute--a savage. Gennaro hadnot yet returned when he came. He pushed his way in, seized me in hismighty arms, hugged me in his bear's embrace, covered me with kisses,and implored me to come away with him. I was struggling and screamingwhen Gennaro entered and attacked him. He struck Gennaro senseless andfled from the house which he was never more to enter. It was a deadlyenemy that we made that night.
"A few days later came the meeting. Gennaro returned from it with aface which told me that something dreadful had occurred. It was worsethan we could have imagined possible. The funds of the society wereraised by blackmailing rich Italians and threatening them with violenceshould they refuse the money. It seems that Castalotte, our dear friendand benefactor, had been approached. He had refused to yield tothreats, and he had handed the notices to the police. It was resolvednow that such an example should be made of them as would prevent anyother victim from rebelling. At the meeting it was arranged that he andhis house should be blown up with dynamite. There was a drawing oflots as to who should carry out the deed. Gennaro saw our enemy'scruel face smiling at him as he dipped his hand in the bag. No doubt ithad been prearranged in some fashion, for it was the fatal disc withthe Red Circle upon it, the mandate for murder, which lay upon hispalm. He was to kill his best friend, or he was to expose himself andme to the vengeance of his comrades. It was part of their fiendishsystem to punish those whom they feared or hated by injuring not onlytheir own persons but those whom they loved, and it was the knowledgeof this which hung as a terror over my poor Gennaro's head and drovehim nearly crazy with apprehension.
"All that night we sat together, our arms round each other, eachstrengthening each for the troubles that lay before us. The very nextevening had been fixed for the attempt. By midday my husband and Iwere on our way to London, but not before he had given our benefactorfull warning of this danger, and had also left such information for thepolice as would safeguard his life for the future.
"The rest, gentlemen, you know for yourselves. We were sure that ourenemies would be behind us like our own shadows. Gorgiano had hisprivate reasons for vengeance, but in any case we knew how ruthless,cunning, and untiring he could be. Both Italy and America are full ofstories of his dreadful powers. If ever they were exerted it would benow. My darling made use of the few clear days which our start hadgiven us in arranging for a refuge for me in such a fashion that nopossible danger could reach me. For his own part, he wished to be freethat he might communicate both with the American and with the Italianpolice. I do not myself know where he lived, or how. All that Ilearned was through the columns of a newspaper. But once as I lookedthrough my window, I saw two Italians watching the house, and Iunderstood that in some way Gorgiano had found our retreat. FinallyGennaro told me, through the paper, that he would signal to me from acertain window, but when the signals came they were nothing butwarnings, which were suddenly interrupted. It is very clear to me nowthat he knew Gorgiano to be close upon him, and that, thank God! he wasready for him when he came. And now, gentleman, I would ask youwhether we have anything to fear from the law, or whether any judgeupon earth would condemn my Gennaro for what he has done?"
; "Well, Mr. Gregson," said the American, looking across at the official,"I don't know what your British point of view may be, but I guess thatin New York this lady's husband will receive a pretty general vote ofthanks."
"She will have to come with me and see the chief," Gregson answered."If what she says is corroborated, I do not think she or her husbandhas much to fear. But what I can't make head or tail of, Mr. Holmes,is how on earth YOU got yourself mixed up in the matter."
"Education, Gregson, education. Still seeking knowledge at the olduniversity. Well, Watson, you have one more specimen of the tragic andgrotesque to add to your collection. By the way, it is not eighto'clock, and a Wagner night at Covent Garden! If we hurry, we might bein time for the second act."
The Adventure of the Red Circle Page 5