"Perhaps it is better for him to remain where he is," Martel said. "He is at least safe, for the time being. Here is something you may not know: Galli's wife is sister to Gian Narcone."
"The outlaw?"
"Then she will probably kill Paolo," said the Countess Margherita, calmly.
Blake exclaimed wonderingly: "I say—this is worse than Breathitt County, Kentucky. You talk of murders and outlaws as we discuss the cotton crop or the boll-weevil. This is the most fatal country I ever saw."
"It is a great pity that such things exist," the Donna Teresa agreed, "but one grows accustomed to them in time. It has been so ever since I was a child—we do not seem to progress, here in Sicily. Now in Italy it is much more civilized, much more restful."
"How hard it must be to do right," said the Countess, musingly. "Look at Paolo, for instance; he kills a wretched thief quite innocently, and yet the law holds him in prison. It is necessary, of course, to be severe with robbers like this Galli and his brother-in-law, who is an open outlaw, and yet, I suppose if I were that Galli's wife I should demand blood to wash my blood. She is only a wife."
"You sympathize with her?" exclaimed Martel in astonishment.
"Deeply! I am not so sorry the man was killed, but a wife has rights.
She will doubtless follow him."
"Do you believe in the vendetta?" Norvin asked, curiously.
"Who does not? The law is full of tricks. There is a saying which runs,
'The gallows for the poor, justice for the fool!'"