"And you are to be my jailer?"
"I swore so on the bible, signora."
"Well, this Chevalier is a strange person. I am helpless then; but for a jailer I like you better than I did Herr Swartz."
"I will treat you better," said Karl kindly. "Now I will get your dinner."
"I want none, Karl."
"That is not possible. You must dine—and well, too. Such are my orders. You know what Swartz said about orders."
"Take him as your model, and you will not make me eat. He was only anxious I should pay."
"That was his business; but with me things are different. That concern is the chevalier's. He is not mean, for he scatters gold by handsful. He must be rich, or his fortune will not last."
Consuelo asked for a light, and went into the next room to burn what she had written, but during her absence it had disappeared.