r he was very tall
or very short.

But his legs, slack and unsteady, gave way beneath him, as if any
prolonged exertion were beyond his power. He relapsed into his
first attitude.

The man was a cripple, smitten with some disease that affected his powers
of locomotion. He was excessively thin. Don Luis also saw his pallid
face, his cavernous cheeks, his hollow temples, his skin the colour of
parchment: the face of a sufferer from consumption, a bloodless face.

When he had finished his inspection, he came up to Florence and said:

"Though you've been very good, baby, and haven't screamed so far, we'd
better take our precautions and remove any possibility of a surprise by
giving you a nice little gag to wear, don't you think?"

He stooped over her and wound a large handkerchief round the lower part
of her face. Then, bending still farther down, he began to speak to her
in a very low voice, talking almost into her ear. But wild bursts of
laughter, horrible to hear, interrupted this whispering.

Feeling the imminence of the danger, dreading some movement on the
wretch's part, a sudden murderous attack, the prompt prick of a poisoned
needle, Don Luis had levelled his revolver and, confident of his skill,
waited events.

What was happening over there? What were the words spoken? What infamous
bargain was the villain proposing to Florence? At what shameful price
could she obtain her release?

The cripple stepped back angrily, shouting in furious accents:

"But don't you understand that you are done for? Now that I have nothing
more to fear, now that you have been silly enough to come with me and
place yourself in my power, what hope have you left? To move me, perhaps:
is that it? Because I'm burning with passion, you imagine--? Oh, you
never made a greater mistake, my pet! I don't care a fig if you do die.
Once dead, you cease to count....

"What else? Perhaps you consider that, being crippled, I shall not have
the strength to kill you? But there's no question of my killing you,
Florence. Have you ever known me kill people? Never! I'm much too big a
coward, I should be frightened, I should shake all over. No, no,
Florence, I shan't touch you, and yet--

"Here, look what's going to happen, see for yourself. I tell you the
thing's managed in my own style.... And, whatever you do, don't be
afraid. It's only a preliminary warning."

He had moved away and, helping himself with his hands, holding on to the
branches o