Down by the brook were green meadows and groves of fruit trees.  The little gentleman followed the stream for some distance, and finally came upon a man seated on the bank above a broad pool, intently engaged in fishing.  It proved to be the dandified old doctor, who wore gloves to protect his hands and a broad-rimmed straw hat to shade his face.

Uncle John stood beside the motionless figure for a moment, watching the line.  Then, forgetting he was in a foreign country, he asked carelessly: 

“Any luck?”

“Not yet,” was the quiet reply, in clear English.  “It is too early to interest the fishes.  An hour later they will bite.”

“Then why did you come so soon?”

“To escape that hell-hole yonder,” nodding his head toward the house.

Uncle John was surprised.

“But you are not a prisoner, doctor,” he ventured to say.

“Except through the necessity of earning a livelihood.  Il Duca pays well—­or rather the Duchessa does, for she is the head of this household.  I am skillful, and worth my price, and they know it.”

“You say the Duchessa is the head of the house?”

“Assuredly, signore.  Il Duca is her slave.  She plans and directs everything, and her son but obeys her will.”

“Did she send him to America?”

“I think so.  But do not misunderstand me.  The Duke is clever on his own account, and almost as wicked as his old mother.  And between them they are training the child to be as bad as they are.  It is dreadful.”

“Have you been here long?”

“For seven years, signore.”

“But you can resign whenever you please?”

“Why not?  But the doubt makes me uneasy, sometimes.  In another year I would like to go to Venice, and retire from professional life.  I am a Venetian, you observe; no dastardly brigand of a Sicilian.  And in another year I shall have sufficient means to retire and end my days in peace.  Here I save every centessimo I make, for I can spend nothing.”

Uncle John sat down upon the bank beside the confiding Venetian.

“Doctor,” said he, “I am somewhat puzzled by this man you call Il Duca, as well as by my audacious capture and the methods employed to rob me.  I’d like your advice.  What shall I do?”

“The only possible thing, signore.  Submit.”

“Why is it the only possible thing?”

“Have you not yet discovered?  Unless you pay, your friends will never hear from you again.  Il Duca, by his mother’s favor, is king here.  He will murder you if you oppose his demands.”

“Really?”