As she spoke, the degraded creature pointed to a great iron hook suspended from the ceiling in the kitchen, which was used to support the weights of the huge spit.
In a twinkling they seized Mario, who exclaimed:
"Refuse! refuse, father! I will endure anything!"
But the marquis could not endure for a second the thought of seeing his child tortured.
"Give me the pen," he cried; "I consent! I will sign whatever you choose!"
"Let us give him a jerk or two all the same," said one of the brigands, beginning to attach the rope to Mario; "it will make the old fellow's handwriting freer."
"Yes, do so," said Proserpine. "That wicked child well deserves it."
The marquis became frantic; but he soon calmed down when he looked at his poor child, whose cheeks were white with terror despite his courage. It was useless to resist. Mario was in their power.
Bois-Doré fell at Proserpine's feet.
"Do not torture my child!" he cried; "I yield, I submit, I will marry you; what more do you want than my word?"