“I fear him more than any one else in all the world,” confessed the girl.
“Don’t you be afraid, Nadia,” said her brother. “I’ll protect you.”
“But that man’s eyes—you cannot resist their evil power.”
“Don’t you believe it! I’m stronger now than I was. I have conquered my weakness for drink, and that was what enabled him to deceive me.”
He truly thought he had conquered, but the girl realized that the battle had only just begun, and that it was her influence and her watchfulness that had kept him from drinking since the night of the exposure in London.
Hidden behind the curtain, they peered forth and watched the man in the cloak. For a few minutes he remained gazing back at the lone inn, but at last he turned once more and, with his cape flapping wing-like about his shoulders, glided in the manner of a bird of evil omen into the bleak woods, which swallowed him from view.
“He is gone!” said Budthorne.
“But he will return,” declared Nadia. “What shall we do, brother—shall we flee from here?”
“No!” cried the man, flourishing his fist. “I’m no criminal, and I refuse to act like one any longer! Let him return! I am my own master, and a score of scoundrels like Miguel Bunol cannot make me hide in cover like a frightened rabbit. This thing must come to an end, sister. He believes we are afraid of him. I’ll show him his error. That is the only course to be pursued. It’s ridiculous to think of us running away from a common cur like that. If he annoys you or threatens you, I’ll have him arrested and locked up.”
Although his words were very bold, she had come to believe that he would weaken and fail when the critical moment arrived.