"But what made me love him was the pleasure he received in doing a good deed. He was really delighted to help someone else. That never changed. I always saw the same pleasure, as if he gained more from the giving than they did from the taking. That is why the people of Sicily love him."

Hector Adonis said quietly, "Until the Portella della Ginestra."

Justina lowered her eyes and said fiercely, "They love him still."

Michael said quickly, "But how did you meet him again?"

Justina said, "My older brother was a friend of his. And maybe my father was a member of the band. I don't know. Only my family and Turi's chiefs know we were married. Turi swore everybody to secrecy, afraid the authorities would arrest me."

Everybody at the table was stunned at this news. Justina reached inside her dress and drew out a small purse. From it she took out a cream-colored stiff-papered document with a heavy seal and offered it to Michael, but Hector Adonis took it and read it. Then he smiled at her. "You will be in America tomorrow. Can I tell Turi's parents the good news?"

Justina blushed. "They always thought I was pregnant without being married," she said. "They thought less of me for it. Yes, you can tell them."

Michael said, "Have you ever seen or read the Testament that Turi has hidden?"

Justina shook her head. "No," she said. "Turi never spoke of it to me."

Don Domenico's face had gone wintry, but he also looked curious. He had heard about the Testament, Michael thought, but didn't approve of it. How many people did know? Certainly not the people of Sicily. Only members of the government in Rome, Don Croce and Guiliano's family and his inner circle of outlaws.

Hector Adonis said, "Don Domenico, may I ask to be your guest until word arrives from America that Justina is safely there? Then I can arrange for Guiliano to receive the news. It should be for no more than an extra night."

Don Domenico said with blunt forcefulness, "You will do me an honor, my dear Professor. Stay as long as you like. But now it's time for us all to go to bed. Our young Signora must get some sleep for her long journey and I am too old to stay up so late. Avanti ." And he made a shooing gesture like a great affectionate bird, to send them on their way. He personally took Hector Adonis by the arm to lead him to a bedroom, shouting orders to the women servants to take care of the rest of his guests.

When Michael rose the next morning Justina was gone.

Hector Adonis had to sleep over for two nights before the courier letter came from Justina that she was safely in America. Somewhere in the letter was the code word that satisfied Adonis, and the morning he was to leave he asked Michael for a private conference.

Michael had spent the two days tense with anticipation, anxious to get home to America himself. Peter Clemenza's description of Sonny's murder had filled Michael with a sense of foreboding about Turi Guiliano. In his mind the two men were growing intertwined. They looked somewhat alike and they both had the same sense of physical vitality and power. Guiliano was only Michael's age, and Michael was intrigued by the man's fame; he was anxious at the thought that they would finally meet face to face. He wondered what use his father could put Guiliano to in America. For he had no doubt that was his father's purpose. Otherwise the assignment of bringing Guiliano home with him did not make sense.

Michael walked with Adonis down to the beach. The armed guards saluted them both: " Vossia, " Your Lordship. Not one of them showed any sign of derision at the sight of the tiny elegantly dressed Hector Adonis. The motorboat had come back, and now closer to it Michael could see it was almost as big as a small yacht. The men aboard it were armed with lupare and machine guns.

The July sun was very hot and the sea so blue and so still that the sun reflected off of it as if it were metal. Michael and Hector Adonis sat on two chairs on the pier.

"Before I leave this morning, I have a final instruction for you," Hector Adonis said quietly. "It is the most important thing that you can do for Guiliano." "With all my heart," Michael said.

"You must send Guiliano's Testament to America immediately, to your father," Adonis said. "He will know how to use it. He will make sure that Don Croce and the government in Rome will know it is safely in America and then they will not dare harm Guiliano. They will let him emigrate safely."

"Do you have it with you?" Michael asked.

The little man smiled at him slyly and then laughed, "You have it," he said.

Michael was astonished. "You've been misinformed," he said. "No one has given it to me."

"Yes they have," Hector Adonis said. He put a friendly hand on Michael's arm and Michael noticed how small and dainty his fingers were, like a child's. "Maria Lombardo, Guiliano's mother, gave it to you. Only she and myself know where it is, not even Pisciotta knows."

He saw Michael's uncomprehending look. "It's in the black Madonna," Hector Adonis said. "It's true the Madonna has been in the family for generations and is valuable. Everybody knows about it. But Guiliano was given a replica. It is hollow. The Testament is written on very thin paper and each sheet has Guiliano's signature. I helped him compose it over the last few years. There are also some incriminating documents. Turi always knew what the end might be and wanted to be prepared. For a young man he has a great sense of strategy."

Michael laughed. "And his mother is a great actress."

"All Sicilians are," Hector Adonis said. "We trust no one and dissemble before everyone. Guiliano's father is certainly trustworthy, but he might be indiscreet. Pisciotta has been Guiliano's truest friend since their childhood, Stefano Andolini has saved Guiliano's life in battle with the carabinieri, but men change with time or under torture. So it's best they do not know."

"But he trusted you," Michael said.

"I am blessed," Hector Adonis said simply. "But you see how clever Guiliano can be? He trusts only me with the Testament and he trusts only Pisciotta with his life. Both of us must betray him if he is to fail."

CHAPTER 17

Michael Corleone and Hector Adonis walked back to the villa and sat under a lemon tree with Peter Clemenza. Michael was eager to read the Testament, but Hector Adonis said that Andolini was due to pick him up for the trip back to Montelepre and Michael waited to see if Andolini had any messages for him.

An hour passed. Hector Adonis looked at his watch, his face worried. Michael said, "His car probably broke down. That Fiat is on its last legs."

Hector Adonis shook his head. "Stefano Andolini has the heart of a murderer, but he is the soul of punctuality. And dependable. I'm afraid that since he is already an hour late, something has gone wrong. And I must be in Montelepre before dark when curfew begins."

Peter Clemenza said, "My brother will give you a car and driver."

Adonis thought about this for a moment. "No," he said, "I will wait. It's important that I see him."

Michael said, "Do you mind if we go on and read the Testament without you? How do you open the statue?"

Hector Adonis said, "Of course – read it. As for opening it there's no trick. It is carved out of solid wood. The head was soldered on after Turi put the papers inside. You simply chop off the head. If you have trouble reading it, I will be glad to assist you. Send one of the servants for me."

Michael and Peter Clemenza went up to Michael's bedroom. The statue was still in Michael's jacket; he had completely forgotten it. When he took it out, both men stared at the black Virgin Mary. The features were definitely African yet the expression was exactly that of the white Madonnas that decorated almost every poor household in Sicily. Michael turned it over in his hands. It was very heavy – you could not guess that it was hollow.