Meanwhile the Unknown, standing at the door of the castle, looked below, and saw the litter slowly ascending, and Nibbio walking a few steps in advance of it. At the sight of his master, he hurried forward. “Come here,” said the signor to him, and led the way to an inner hall. “Well?” said he, stopping.—“All has been done according to your wishes,” replied Nibbio, bowing. “The order in time, the young girl in time, no one near the place, a single cry, no one alarmed, the coachman diligent, the horses swift; but——”
“But what?”
“But, to say truth, I would rather have received orders to plunge a dagger in her heart at once, than to have been obliged to look at her, and hear her entreaties.”
“What is this? What is this? What do you mean?”
“I would say that during the whole journey—yes, during the whole journey—she has excited my compassion.”
“Compassion! What dost thou know of compassion? What is compassion?”
“I have never understood what it is until to-day; it is something like fear; if it takes possession of one, one is no longer a man.”
“Let me hear, then, what she has done to excite your compassion?”
“Oh, most illustrious signor, she wept, implored, and looked so piteously; then turned pale, pale as death; then wept, and prayed again, and said such words——”
“I will not have this girl in the castle,” thought the Unknown. “I was wrong to embark in this business; but I have promised, I have promised: when she is far away——” And looking imperiously at Nibbio, “Now,” said he, “put an end to your compassion; mount a horse, take with you two or three companions, if you wish; go to the castle of Don Roderick, thou knowest it. Tell him to send immediately, immediately—or otherwise——”