"These accused men are in the Parish prison, yes? Very well. Imprison spies with them who will gain their confidence. In that way we can verify Maruffi's words."
"That's not so easily done. There is no certainty that they would make damaging admissions."
"Men who dwell constantly with thoughts of their guilt feel the need of talking. The mind is incapable of continued silence; it must communicate the things that weigh it down. Let the imprisoned Mafiosi mingle with one another freely whenever ears are open near by, and you will surely get results." Seeing him frown in thought, she continued, after a moment, "You told me of a great detective agency—one which sent that man Corte here to betray Narcone."
"Yes, the Pinkertons. I was thinking of them. I believe it can be done. At any rate, leave it to me to try, and if I succeed no one shall know about it, not even our own police. When our spies enter the prison, if they do, it will be in a way to inspire confidence among the Mafiosi. Meanwhile, do you think you are entirely safe in that foreign quarter?"
"Quite safe, although the situation is trying. I have felt the strain almost as deeply as my unfortunate sister."
"And when it is all over you will be ready for your vows?"
Her answer gave no sign of the hesitation he had hoped for and half expected.
"Of course."
He shook his head doubtfully. "Somehow, I—I feel that fate will keep you from that life; I cannot think of you as a Sister of Mercy." In spite of himself his voice was uneven and his eyes were alight with the hope which she so steadfastly refused to recognize.
As she rose to leave she said, musingly, "How strange it is that this master of crime and intrigue should betray himself through the one good and unselfish emotion of his life!"