--only a wrong thought--of me--of love--of everything!"

"_Bien_--but you love me, pretty creature, is it not so?" he mocked,
holding up her head and kissing her full on the mouth.

"I--I love the _real_ 'you'--for that is God's image," she murmured,
struggling to hold her face away from his fetid breath. "But--I do
not--love the way that image is--is translated--in your human mind!"

"_Caramba_!" he threw himself back and gave noisy vent to his
risibility. "_Chiquita mia_! What grand language! Where did you learn
it?"

For the moment the girl seemed to forget that she was in the fell
clutches of a demon incarnate. Her thought strayed back to little
Simiti, to Cucumbra, to Cantar-las-horas, to--ah, was _he_ searching
for her now? And would he come?--

"It was Padre Jose; he taught me," she whispered sadly.

"Padre Jose! _Maldito_! The curse of God blast him, the monkey-faced
_mozo! Caramba_! but he will teach you no more! You have a new master
now to give you a few needed lessons, _senorita mia_, and--"

"Padre Diego!" her tense voice checked further expression of his low
thought. "You have no power to curse anything! You have no power to
harm me, or to teach me anything! God _is_ here! He _will_ protect me!
He keeps all them that love Him!" She gasped again as his clutch
tightened about her.

"Doubtless, my lily. _Caramba_! your skin is like the velvet!" He
roughly drew the girl up on his knees. "To be sure He will protect
you, my _mariposa._ And He is using me as the channel, you see--just
as you said a few moments ago, eh?" His rude laugh again echoed
through the room.

"He is not--using you--at all!" she panted. "Evil thoughts are--are
using you. And all--they can do--is to kill themselves--and you!"

"_Madre Maria_! Is such a sad fate in store for me, my beautiful
_hada_?" He chuckled and reached out again for the bottle. "Another
little thought of wine, my love. It's only a thought, you know. Ha!
ha! I must remember to tell Don Antonio of this!--_Maldita_!"

His clumsy movement had upset the bottle. Struggling to save its
contents, he relaxed his hold on Carmen. Like a flash she wormed her
supple body out under his arm, slid to the floor, and gained the
window.

"_Dios y diablo! Maldita! Maldita_!" shrilled Diego, aflame with
wrath. "Cursed wench! when I lay these hands again on you--!"

Struggling to his feet, he made for the girl. But at the first step
the light rug slid along the smooth tiles be