“That is not impossible,” observed the Albanian, coolly.
“To the man who will render me that service,” said the captain, “I will give—”
“It is useless to offer a reward, captain,” interrupted the young man; “I know a man who will render you that service for nothing.”
“And when can I meet with this man?” repeated Altavilla, affecting a smile of doubt.
“If you will follow me, I will tell you,” replied the stoical Albanian.
With these words the Albanian withdrew, as if he were inviting the captain to follow him.
The captain hesitated for an instant, but he had said too much to draw back; all eyes were turned upon him, and he saw that the least show of timidity would ruin his reputation; and besides, he considered the proposal was a joke.
“Come on,” he cried, “for the honour of the ladies and he followed the Albanian.
“Do you know who that young lord disguised as a Greek is?” said the countess, with a trembling voice, and addressing the Prince de Butera.
“No, on my soul, I do not,” said he. “Does any one here know him?”