“One reason why I have wished to come to Corsica,” said Helen, “is to learn about the vendetta. The spirit of the old knights must survive in this island.”
“Not at all!” cried the Admiral, taking part for the first time in the discussion. “The miserable rascals dare not meet each other in a fair fight, but lie in ambush and brutally assassinate their enemies. I am surprised, Helen, that you should entertain such sentiments.”
“You do not understand me, father,” said Helen. “What I wish to see is individual bravery rather than collective heroism. I do not wish to applaud a whole regiment or the entire crew of a frigate, but the one man who, by his valiant prowess, has shown himself worthy of renown.”
The dinner was over and the discussion also came to an end. Victor lighted a cigar and went out upon the veranda to think over the matter which was uppermost in his mind. Being very far-sighted, he espied, a long distance off, an old building which had a deserted, tumble-down appearance. He left the veranda and walked towards it, finding it much farther away than he had anticipated.
He opened the door and entered. It was empty. It was, in reality, a large shed which probably had been used as a storehouse. He closed the door and found himself in utter darkness. Although the building was old, it was surely well constructed, for there was not a seam or break in it through which the light of the sun could enter. He threw the door open and carefully surveyed the interior once more. Across each corner of the structure, some six feet from the ground, four heavy joists were placed, but for what purpose Victor could not divine. As he stood there, a strange thought came into his mind, and he smiled to himself with inward satisfaction.
On his way back to the hotel, he passed a cottage, in front of which, seated at a grindstone, a man, evidently a woodsman, was sharpening a number of axes. Victor stopped and regarded him. Then, he smiled again. What he saw evidently pleased him and there must have been some connection between the smile in the old shed and that which showed upon his face as he stood regarding the woodsman and the implements of his trade.
“My good friend,” said Victor, “will you sell me a couple of those axes—the sharpened ones, I mean?”
“You can buy plenty of them in the town,” the man replied.
“How much would two cost me?” asked Victor.
The man named the price.