"Who spoke?"
"I!" the woman replied haughtily, placing herself before him.
"Ah!" he said with a gesture of disgust, and sinking back upon the bed; "you again! ever you!"
"Yes, I! still I, Don Tadeo! I, whose will, in spite of your disdain and your hatred, has never faltered! I, in short, whose assistance you have always obstinately refused, and who have saved you, in spite of yourself."
"Oh! that is an easy matter for you, madam; are you not on the best possible terms with my executioners?"
At this reply the woman could not repress a movement of anger; a sudden redness flitted across her face.
"No insults, Don Tadeo de Leon!" she said, stamping her foot; "I have saved you! I am a woman, and you are under my roof!"
"That is true," he replied, rising and bowing to her with ironical respect; "I had forgotten that, madam; I am in your house. Have the goodness, then, to direct me the way out, that I may be gone as quickly as possible."
"Do not be in such haste, Don Tadeo—you have not yet sufficiently recovered your strength. Within a few steps, you perhaps would fall again, to be raised up by the agents of the power which, this time, I swear to you, would not let you escape."
"And who told you, madam, that I should not prefer being retaken and executed a second time, to the chance of remaining longer in your presence?"