locks its doors against me; I am alone."

The captain smiled with cruel irony.

"I divine what your smile means. I know what you wish to say to me....
I can see myself; you believe without doubt that such has been my
former life. No,... _no_! You are mistaken. I have not been _that_.
There has to be a special predisposition, a certain talent for feigning
what I do not feel.... I have tried to sell myself, and I cannot, I
cannot avail myself of that. I embitter the life of men when they do
not interest me; I am their adversary. I hate them and they flee from
me."

But the sailor prolonged his atrociously sinister smile.

"It's a lie," he said again, "all a lie. Make no further effort.... You
will not convince me."

As though suddenly reanimated with new force, she rose to her
feet:--her face on a level with Ferragut's eyes. He saw her left temple
with the torn skin; the spot caused by the blow extended around one
eye, reddened and swollen. On contemplating his barbarous handiwork,
remorse again tormented him.

"Listen, Ulysses; you do not know my true existence. I have always lied
to you; I have eluded all your investigations in our happy days. I
wished to keep my former life a secret ... to forget it. Now I must
tell you the truth, the actual truth, just as though I were going to
die. When you know it, you will be less cruel."

But her listener did not wish to hear it. He protested in advance with
a ferocious incredulity.

"Lies!... new lies! I wonder when you will ever stop your inventions!"

"I am not a German woman," she continued without listening to him.
"Neither is my name Freya Talberg.... It is my _nombre de guerre_, my
name as an adventuress. Talberg was the professor who accompanied me to
the Andes, and who was not my husband, either.... My true name is
Beatrice.... My mother was an Italian, a Florentine; my father was from
Trieste."

This revelation did not interest Ferragut.

"One fraud more!" he said. "Another novel!... Keep on making them up."

The woman was in despair. She raised her hands above her head, twisting
the interlaced fingers. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes.

"_Ay!_ How can I succeed in making you believe me?... What oath can I
take to convince you that I am telling you the truth?..."

The captain's impassive air gave her to understand that all such
extremes would be unavailing. There was no oath that could possibly
convince him. Even though she should tell the truth, he wou