“Bombast?”
“But yes!” He waved his hand airily. “Nothing more! Waste no more thought over it. It is gone! But you remain—you and I! Will you not think of my suit. Ah! Senorita! If you but understand how I love you!”
But Lillian shook her head. “I can not forget it,” she declared, stubbornly, refusing to be diverted. “I cannot forget it. I wish I could. I am ashamed that I should have imposed upon you as I did. I wish that you had not told me but now that you have done so, I cannot forget and I cannot keep it secret. In fact, I must tell you that I have already—”
The count flung up his hand. “No! No! Think once more, senorita,” he pleaded.
“I can not. I have—”
“Then, senorita, I must take other measures. I have given you every chance, and you have refused. Now—Now!”
The man did not even raise his voice. In exactly the same tones as those he had been using, he repeated his last word “Now!”
Vaguely uneasy; fearing she knew not what, Lillian started to rise. But before she could do so, a towel saturated with some heavy-smelling stuff, was flung over her face from behind, and her head was drawn suddenly back. Vainly she tried to scream; the muffling towel was too thick. She gasped for breath, plucking with futile fingers at the bandage. Then her brain reeled; and darkness came over her.
Ouro Preto stood silently, quietly watching her struggles. When at last she lay still he spoke in a low tone to the sailor who held her.
“Loosen the towel a little and give her air,” he ordered. “I don’t want to suffocate her.”