Part 64 (1/2)

”I--I'm too tired,” he said; ”I'm worn out, Rita. I cannot walk.”

”Bah!” said she. ”Come--you shall not go far: I take you to where you shall restar.”

”But I'm tired,” said Russell. ”I want to rest here.”

”Bah! you not too tired to go one two mile; that not mooch to go.

Come!”

”I can't,” whined Russell.

”But you will be captar--you shall be a preesonaire--you shall be deescovaire--alla found out by the capitan; so come--fly, you haf no time to lose.”

”I can't help it,” said Russell, in despair. ”If I'm caught again I don't care. I'm worn out.”

”But you moos!”

”I can't!”

”Come--I shall carry you; I shall lifta you, and carry you to your safetydom.

Come!”

”It's impossible,” said Russell, who, in addition to his fear, began to feel vexation at this woman's pertinacity.

There was something in his tone which made Rita pause. She stood erect, folded her arms, and looked at him. The moonlight fell on both. Each could see the other.

Russell did not feel pleased with her appearance. She looked too hard--too austere. She seemed to have an unlimited possibility of daring and of vengeance. He began to think that he had been playing with edge-tools, and that in trying to make use of Rita he had only gained a new master for himself. The vague fears which had been gathering through the day now grew stronger, and he realized his full danger.

”You not want to fly? You not want to 'scape?” said Rita, with a frown.

Russell thought it best to own up.

”Well, n-n-no,” said he. ”On the whole, I do not.”

”Why?” asked Rita, in a hard voice.

”Oh--well--I've--I've--I've changed my mind,” said Russell, in a trembling voice.

He began to be more afraid of Rita than ever.

”Ah!” said Rita. ”It is so--very well. Now leest'n to me; look at me.

What haf I done? I haf betray my maestro--I haf betray my friends: this castle is took; my friends are run away, many of them dead; their bodies are over there--they are dead. Who kill them? I--I the traidor! I the Judas! I betray! And why? I betray--because you tempt me! Do you know that? You tempt me! You ask me to helpa you! you promise me all the world! I helpa you! I make mysef a traidor, and now it haf come to this!

”Where are my friends?” continued Rita. ”Gone! fled! dead! They sall haunt me--their ghosts--they sall call for venganza; and I haf make mysef a traidor to the friends that lofe me an' was kind! See me, what I am! You haf make me to this--you! you! you! What! do you think I sall let you turn false to me? No! nevaire! You sall be true to me--what--evaire! You haf promis to gif me all the world. You haf promis to gif me youselfa. You sall be what you say--'my man!' I sall haf the recompensa, if I die from remordimiento. If you be a traidor to me, I sall haf the venganza!”

During this wild harangue Rita seemed transported to fury--she seemed a madwoman. Russell trembled in every limb from sheer terror. He never had in all his life seen anything like this. His only hope now was to escape from her insane rage, no matter under whose protection.

At length she stopped and grew calmer. Then she said, in a low, stern voice:

”Now--will you come? Will you fly?”