"I remained alone with Caterina in that isolated house for two days without seeing any one. It was snowing. I could not go out. Those days passed like so many years. Caterina was taken ill with a fever. I almost despaired. Where could I go for help? I knew no one and there was no house nearby. During those awful days suicide was continually in my mind. Then again the thought would come to me—why should you? What for? Why abandon my wife, my parents, my relatives? No, I reflected, better fight it out to the end and see what those bandits have up their sleeve.
"On the morning of December 15, 1908, it was snowing large flakes and it was bitter cold. There came a knock on the door. Cecala and Cina entered. Both of them laughed boisterously when they saw me.
"This angered me, and I declared that I was not to be treated any longer as if I were a child.
"'Very well,' said Cecala. 'If you were a child you would never do for us. We are dealing with you because we know that you are a serious and intelligent fellow, otherwise ... well, don't shout when you talk to us. You must calm yourself because you are dealing with gentlemen and not with villains.'
"'I know that; but your actions are not those of gentlemen.'
"'When you know more then you will not talk so much,' said Cecala in a low tone.
"Caterina had heard voices and was coming downstairs:
"'Mr. Cecala,' she said, 'it is necessary that I go to New York because I am ill and feverish. Give me the fare and I will go.'
"'In this weather?' asked Cecala.
"'Yes.'