After all, she was only a slave, he said in his heart, and he was the descendant of five generations of notaries. What right had she to cross-examine him? He was the more angry with her for asking the question, because his own curiosity had tormented him for days to find an answer to it.
'Omobono,' Zoë said, affecting a very grave tone, 'you know very well what the master means to do. Now I ask you solemnly, and you are warned that you must answer me—by four——'
'No, no!' cried the secretary, in sudden distress. 'Do not ask me by that!'
'I must, Omobono; and of course you have been told what you have to expect if you refuse to help a friend over the water.'
She emphasised the last words in a way that made him tremble.
'Yes, yes—I know——' he said feebly, though he had not the least notion of the penalty.
'You will be broken to pieces by inches with a small hammer, beginning at the tips of your fingers till there is not a whole bone in your body. That is only the beginning.'
Omobono's knees knocked together.
'Then your skin will be turned inside out over your head and your living heart will be cut out of your body, Omobono, and you will die.'
The secretary had already such belief in the power of those who knew the magic words that he turned pale and the cold sweat stood on his forehead.