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Boys Own Paper 8th March 1913

Boys Own Paper 8th March 1913

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NO. 23, VOLUME
XXXV.]
SATURDAY,
MARCH
8, 1913.
Price
One
Penny.
[ALL RIOHIS RESERVED.]
OUR SAILOR
PRINCE
H.R.H.
Prince
Albert Victor, the
second
son of the
Kin?,
having completed
his
course
at the RoyalNaval College at Dartmouth, is now at sea on the
training ship
Cumberland.
The
cruise will last
six
months
and
will include
a
visit
to the West
Indies.
Cliff 
Island:
A
Tale of a Vendetta.
By A.
FERGUSON,
 Author
of " The
Singing Kettle,"
" Held as Hostages."
"
Up the Essequibo" etc., etc.
CHAPTER
II.
FRANCIE
S
STORY.
"
"1
iry home," said Franoie, " was in
Sant'
ill
Agnese, a
little
fishing village on thenorth coast of 
Sicily.
My people, the Cazale,
were
fishers. So were the Barbuzzi. Therehad been
vendetta
between the Cazale andthe Barbuzzi for many generations. It wasalways there, though sometimes it might
sleep
for a long time. Then, behold! asudden flare up of rage, and a Barbuzzi
would
drive his knife into a Cazale, or aCazale would kill a Barbuzzi, and thevendetta was awake again.
"
In old times
there
had been manyCazale and many Barbuzzi. But, what with
drownings
at sea and bad fishing seasons
when,
there
not being too much to eat, thefisher
folk 
died easily of the fever; and whatwith the many killings of the Barbuzzi bythe Cazale and of the Cazale by the Barbuzzi,
there
had
come
to be, in my time, on eachside only one family of the name and
blood.
Of 
all the Barbuzzi,
«nly
five
men were left
—fierce
old Giuseppe Barbuzzi and his four
sons.
And of us Cazale, only my father,
my
big brother and myself, who was but
twelve
years old—little more
than
a child.
"
Then one morning came a hot dispute
over
a catch of fish, which the old Barbuzziand my father both claimed, and knives
were
drawn. The other fishermen separatedthem, but very bad names had been calledand the
blood
of both was on fire. Nothing
more
happened
then,
for my father andbrother had to go away to
take their
fish tomarket at
distant
Valefiori. It was raybirthday, and to make
festa
for me they
took 
me with them.
"
We
returned
home
late
in the day. As
one
draws
near
Sant'
Agnese, the road
runs
through a thick grove of trees. There theBarbuzzi were lying in wait for my fatherand brother. As we passed through, unsuspecting, they sprang out upon us, all the
five
of 
them.
"'
Run, child, run for your
life!'
myfather ordered me.
 
354
The"Boy's Obun
Paper,
"
I ran, as if I had wings, to
Sant'
Agneseand implored help. Many came running
back 
with me, for the odds—five Barbuzziagainst two Cazale—were cruel. But when
we
reached the place of the fighting, myfather and brother were both dead. Theywere big and strong men, and very brave,and they fought so fiercely for
their
lives
that,
despite the
odds,
they had killedGiuseppe Barbuzzi, and given death-woundsto two of his sons.
"
We of our village were always used tosettling our vendettas in our own way, andto keep the
matter
hidden, for we did notlike the interference of the law. But, some
how,
the carbinieri came to
hear
of what hadhappened. Then they got hold of me andmade me tell my story, and the two Barbuzzi
who
still lived were arrested—Bartolomeo,the eldest of the family, and Tommaso,the youngest. They were tried and put inprison for many years. They might have
got
more still, only, you see, it was a very oldvendetta between the Cazale and the Bar
buzzi.
And, besides, my father and brotherhad managed to kill
three
Barbuzzi beforethey got killed themselves, and
that
madethe fight seem not so unequal after all."I was the
chief 
witness against the Barbuzzi brothers, and it was well for me
that
they were
shut
up in prison for a time.True,
Maso
the younger,
so
strong but, oh! sostupid, counted nothing without his brother,Barto, who always told him what to do.But
that
brother
!
Ah, signors
!
He wasfiercer and stronger
than
Maso!
In thefight he had lost all the fingers of his lefthand, and he had sworn aloud over his
father's
and brother's dead bodies
that
he
would
kill me, child though I was, and so
wipe
all the Cazale off the face of the
earth.
He was put in gaol before be had the chance;but, because I had witnessed against him atthe
trial,
he made a double-strong oath tokill me when he came out again.
"
I had lost my kind father and brother,and
there
was not, save myself, man, woman
or
child of my
blood
in the world. I was
so
all alone and sad! Then old Beppi and
Angela
Conti took me and befriended me,
for
which may the
good
God reward themin
this
life
and after death! With them, I
lived
and grew to be a man,
until
the timedrew
near
for the Barbuzzi to
come
out of prison.
"
Then old Beppi said, ' You are, to meand Angela, a son, Francesco. But whatuse to keep you by us to tend our old age ?
We
shall have you only to bury,
once
BartoBarbuzzi is free. For he will kill you assurely as the sun shines ! Have I not knownthe man from his babehood
!
He has swornto kill you, and he will be as one mad,having care and thought only for whatleads to
this
end,
until
the deed is done.
Now,
this
is what we, who
love
you, say:—
Leave
us and go far away ! Hide yourself among a
strange
people, in a very
distant
land, and,
then,
trust
to the
good
God tokeep Barto from finding
you—for
he willsearch far and wide for you. Alas, yes !Nothing will
tire
or
turn
him, in his madness,
from
his evil purpose. He will not
restuntil
you are dead or he.'
"
I knew
that
Beppi Conti spoke no more
than truth.
It made me very sorrowfulto leave those
good
friends and go aloneto far
strange
lands. But
there
was noother way. I am not of the fighting kindlike my father and brother—only for mycountry in
battle
would I fight, for I
love
not blood-shedding. I cared not for the
wicked
old vendetta. I had no wish to killBarto Barbuzzi—rather would I have himto kill me. But I did not want him to kill
me.
I wanted to be let live and work in
peace,
to be glad for the sunshine and thelaughter on
God's
good
earth.
Therefore,
that
I might not die before my time I leftthe dear place and people I had known all
my
life,
and, working my way by land andsea, I at
last
reached
this
British country.I came here because I thought
that
here Ishould be
better
hidden
than
in America,since so many Sicilians go
there
to make
their
fortune.
"
I have been here two years and havelearned the country's language and ways. Ihave worked at my calling of fisherman andhave done
well.
I have been able to send
money
home secretly to Angela and BeppiConti,and yet have had money for theSavings Bank—in
this
country it is easy
for
a man, who is steady and hard-working,to make money. My mates of the
cutter—
one
of whom is its
padrone,
its master—haveever been my
good
friends. And I have
found
good
friends elsewhere among thefishing boats, some of them
Italians
likemyself. Oh yes, I have been very happyin
this
country, where never did I
think 
Barto Barbuzzi would find me. Very happy
—then
two days ago, I am in Northport
A NEW STORY BY A " B.O.P.'FAVOURITE.
In No. 26, dated March 29, will appearthe opening chapter of a
stirring
New SerialStory of 
school
life
and adventure, entitled—
"UNDER 
THE
EDGEOF
THE
EARTH,"
By F. H.
BOLTON,
 Author of "In the Heart of the Silent Sea," etc.
DO
NOT MISS THIS!
and
come
out of a
little
taverna
where I often
go
dine. Andj
ecco
!
I find myself face to facewith Maso Barbuzzi !
"
Maso does not know me—I was a
little
boy
when he saw me
last.
I make pretenceI know not him. I cross the
street,
hide ina doorway and watch. Maso waits leaningagainst a telegraph post. Very
soon
a
tram-car
stops there. A man jumps out.It is Barto Barbuzzi. That is enough for
me.
I know whom he seeks.
"
I wait
until
Barto and Maso go insidethe
taverna,
then
I slip away to the bank and draw out all my saved money. Then,I go very fast to the wharf and get on boardthe
Sea Foam,
our
good
cutter.
I sewup all my money tight in the waterproof belt Iwear under my
shirt.
I must go away fromNorthport never to
come
back. That isthe one thought I can
think,
for my head
goes
round so, and my
heart
beats to make me
sick.
Glad am I
that
my mates
come
quick and we put out to sea. I work with them.I sit with them. I eat with them. And,all the time, I
think 
what story I shalltell to make them put me ashore at someplace on the coast, where I can find my
way
to another port, and ship on board asteamer
that
will carry me far away from
this
country and the Barbuzzi.
"
I dare not tell my mates the
true
story.
They
would not believe it. They are very
good
chaps, but they are of the colonialBritish—how
could
they
understand
Sici
lian vengeance in a
nature
such as BartoBarbuzzi's
?
They would say it is a maggotin my brain. They would laugh, they wouldmake funny with me, if I told them
that
Barto had travelled the many thousandsmiles to kill me because my name wasCazale. Therefore, I do not tell them, but
think, think 
all the time how I shall persuadethem to put me ashore by and by.
"
Then
comes
the storm, and
there
is no
further
use for me to
think 
and plan. All
that
can be done is to run before the wind
for
the
nearest
safe harbour, even were itNorthport with Barto Barbuzzi lying
there
in wait for me. But the
good
God, whosent the wave to wash me overboard, and
who
brought me safe here into your kindcare,has shown me a way how I may escape
for
always Barto's knife. Graciously listen,signor,and say
that
it is
well.
"
My mates, who, without power to aid
me,
saw me swept overboard in the storm,
will
carry the
tale
to town
that
I am drowned.
Very
good!
let
that
tale
reach Barto Barbuzzi's ear, as he
goes
about among thefishermen, asking for me, and when he makes
himself 
sure
that
I am dead, he will trouble
himself 
no more to seek me. It may well be
t'.iat
then
he will depart from
this
country,he and his brother, since my
heart
tells me
that
it is only his
thirst
for vengeance
that
has brought him from
Sicily.
Ah, signor,
of 
your grace, say not
that
I
live!
Leavethe Barbuzzi to believe me drowned! Andin your'"great kindness let me stay hiddenhere, with you, on
this
lonely island,
until
they have departed, for ever, from
this
country. Then
no
longer
will
the fear
of 
themtrouble my
heart,
and I will live
joyously
as a free man in a free land should
live."
As
may be imagined, I had listened withbreathless
attention
to the foregoing story,
 
Scarred 
Cliff 
Island.
355
and my father was scarcely less interested.In his youth, he had spent some years in thesouth of Italy, and he found the
tale
likelyenough, while no one, seeing and hearingFrancie tell it,
could
doubt its
truth.
By
way of reassuring the
little Italian,
myfather threw out a suggestion
that
the Barbuzzi brothers, by
a
curious
coincidence,
might have
come
to the
colony
merely asimmigrants, and, very possibly, might have
no
knowledge
that
the man whom Barto hadswornto kill had
come
there
before them.But Francie rejected the suggestion withmany vehement shakes of his head.
"
They came here, knowing me here,
Father
agreed with him
that
this
was nota case
that
could
be met by an appeal for
police
protection.
"
I
am afraid your story would sound, to
colonial
police
ears, somewhat of a eock-and-bull tale, Francesco," he said. " Even if they did
move
in the
matter,
it
would serve
no
end save to reveal you to your enemies,
for
it would only be your word against
that
of 
the two brothers. The Barbuzzi, of 
couise,
would disclaim any evil intentionstowards you—and
then take their
firstchance of secretly doing away with you andclearing out of the
colony."
"
That
is
so, signor," assented Francie,
"
And,
ecco.'
I
find myself 
face
to
face
with
Maso Barbuzzi."
(See
p.
354.)
because Barto wants to kill me," he declaredwith absolute conviction. " But
it
is
hard
to say how he learned
I
was in
this
country.The
good
old priest of our village, through
whom
I
have twice sent news of myself and
money
to the Conti, who were my second
parents,
he would not betray me any more
than
old Beppi Conti himself. But Mother
Angela,
she is a very old woman and
loves
to
talk.
I
am
as
her son, and
it
may
be
she has boasted
of 
my prosperity
to
other old women, and told more
than
shemeant to. Oh, of course, she will havesworn her friends to secrecy, but, you know,signor•! " Francie's rueful laugh andshrug of the shoulders completed his sentencevery fully. "
Also,
aman like Barto Barbuzzi,with a
hate
so
big and a
vow
sworn, is cunningto find out secrets he wants to learn."gravely nodding,
"that
is
truly
as
yousay."
"
No," continued my father thoughtfully,
"
on the
whole,
your own plan is the wisestunder the circumstances—we must leave itto be inferred, for
a
time,
that
you aredrowned.After all,
it
isn't
as if you had
near
relatives and friends in the
colony
to bedistressed by your supposed death."
"
Alas, no, signor," agreed Francie,with a half-laughing, half-sorrowful twist
of 
his
face.
" There are few who have
a
thought
to
spare for Francesco Cazale.For one moment, perhaps, my mates will
be
sorry while they say,
'
Pity
that
littleItalian Frank 
has gone to feed the fishes—he wasn't such
a
bad sort.' My funeraloration
thus
said,—
ecco
I
am forgotten I
"
"
Dick 
and
I
won't believe
that,
Fran
cesco,"
said Dad, smiling, " but we'll allowthem to say the funeral oration, while youstay safe with us and await developments.If, after careful inquiry, we find
that
yourenemies have settled down to stay in the
colony,
we shall ship you off to try yourluck 
in
America,
or
elsewhere, with thesavings you have in your belt to
give
you
a
good
start.
If 
we find
that
the Barbuzzihave gone back to Sicily—which they arelikely enough
to
do
if 
you are right
in
thinking
it
was only to tal.o vengeance on
you
that
they came here—why,
then,
all is
well.
You will
return
to Northport, andexplain everything to your friends, and find
how
glad they are to see you alive ano>thriving."
(To be
continued.)
Ridille«mc-Ree.
(Continued from p.
341.)
WE
give
below
two more enigmas, whichour readers may like
to
puzzle out. The-answers will be given in a
later
issue.
ENIGMA
IV.
I'm black or I'm white, I'm
hollow
-
andround,I'm
good
or I'm bad, in most houses I'm
found.
I'm rough and I'm smooth, and although I've
no
feet,I'm
obliged
to
move
off when a lady
I
meet.Whenengaged in my duty it can't be deniedThat sometimes I'm
straight,
sometimes on
one
side;I'm oft full to the brim, yet you need have
no
fear,Should
I
chance to upset it is perfectly clearThat nothing I spill, and I
give
you my word,In all climates
I
still in the
draughts
ampreferred.
And
although I've no money 'tis plain to the
view,
I lack seldom
a
crown and often hold two;I'm in all but
three letters
and used in eachseason,
So
pray puzzle me out mid
this
rhyming andreason.
ENIGMA
V.
I'm warm and I'm
cold,
I'm damp and I'mdry,
And
I'm certain to fall whenever I'm high,I ne'er for a moment was known to be still,
And
always am busy in doing
good
and ill.I'm playing around you though
I
ne'er can
be
traced,
And
I'm frequently
bitter
although I've no-
taste.
Whenever
I
rise with a violence affrighting,
You
may know by my howl I'm inclinedto be biting
;
All
the world over my vigils
I
keep,For although often lulled I'm never asleep.
LYDIA
E. J.
O'HAEA.
IN
the opinion of the ancients, he was thegreat man who scorned to shine, and whocontested the frowns
of 
fortune. Theypreferred the noble vessel too
late
for thetide, contending with winds and waves,dismantled and unrigged, to her companionborne into harbour with colours
 flying
 and
guns firing. There is none of the social
goods
that
may not be purchased too dear, andmere amiableness must not
take rank 
withhigh aims and self-subsistency.
(Emerson.)

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