But who can describe the terror and anguish of the unfortunate girl? Who can tell what passed in her heart? Cruelly anxious to ascertain her horrible situation, she wildly opened her eyes, but closed them again at the sight of those frightful faces. She struggled in vain. The men held her down in the bottom of the carriage: if she attempted to cry, they drew the handkerchief tightly over her mouth. In the mean while, three gruff voices, endeavouring to assume a tone of humanity, said to her, “Be quiet, be quiet: do not be afraid; we do not wish to harm you.” After a while her struggles ceased, she languidly opened her eyes, and the horrible faces before her appeared to blend themselves into one monstrous image; her colour fled, and she fell lifeless into their arms.
“Courage, courage,” said Nibbio; but Lucy was now beyond the reach of his horrible voice.
“The devil! she appears to be dead,” said one of them. “If she should really be dead!”
“Poh!” said the other, “these fainting fits are common to women; they don’t die in this way.”
“Hush,” said Nibbio, “be attentive to your duty, and do not meddle with other affairs. Keep your muskets ready, because this wood we are entering is a nest for robbers. Don’t keep them in your hands—the devil! put them behind you. Do you not see that this girl is a tender chicken, who faints at nothing? If she sees that you have arms, she may die in reality. When she comes to her senses, be careful not to frighten her. Touch her not, unless I tell you to do so. I can hold her. Keep quiet, and let me talk to her.”
Meanwhile the carriage entered the wood. Poor Lucy awoke as from a profound and painful slumber. She opened her eyes, and her horrible situation rushed with full force upon her mind. She struggled again in vain, she attempted to scream, but Nibbio said to her, holding up the handkerchief, “Be tranquil; it is the best thing you can do. We do not wish to harm you; but if you do not keep silence, we must make you.”
“Let me go. Who are you? Where are you taking me? Why am I here? Let me go, let me go.”
“I tell you, don’t be frightened. You are not a child, and you ought to know that we will not harm you. We might have murdered you before this, if such had been our intention. Be quiet, then.”
“No, no, let me go; I know you not.”
“We know you well enough, however.”