"Did you not?" cried Beppo, turning to the improvisatore, upon whom every eye was now bent.
Horace was almost startled at the short affirmative "si," which was the only reply of Raphael.
"You did—did you?" exclaimed Matteo, striding up to the speaker, while his hand fumbled in his leathern belt.
"And you prayed that our quarry might escape us!" cried Beppo.
"You did—did you?" repeated Matteo, more savagely than before.
Raphael met his fierce gaze with unblenching eye, and again briefly answered "si."
Horace held his breath, as one who sees a wild beast crouching for his deadly spring on a defenseless victim; he expected every moment to see Raphael laid dead at his feet. When Matteo contented himself with growling out a curse and a threat, and with the other robbers sauntered into the cave, the youth could hardly believe that the improvisatore bore not indeed a charmed life, and that some invisible circle of protection had been drawn around him by a hand unseen.
"How could you dare to brave so his fury?" exclaimed Horace to Rossignol. "I thought that he would have struck you to the earth."
"He that speaks for the truth must hold to the truth," replied Raphael, as, taking up his instrument, he followed the banditti into their dark retreat.