“Not caring whether it would do them harm or no,” corrected Ramiro, “as you had your own object to gain—the young lady whom, by the way, you were quite ready to doctor with a love medicine.”
“Because love blinded me,” said Adrian loftily.
Ramiro put his hand upon his shoulder and shook him slightly as he answered:
“And has it not struck you, you vain puppy, that other things may blind you also—hot irons, for instance?”
“What do you mean?” gasped Adrian.
“I mean that the rack is a wonderful persuader. Oh! it makes the most silent talk and the most solemn sing. Now take your choice. Will you sign or will you go to the torture chamber?”
“What right have you to question me?” asked Adrian, striving to build up his tottering courage with bold words.
“Just this right—that I to whom you speak am the Captain and Governor of the Gevangenhuis in this town, an official who has certain powers.”
Adrian turned pale but said nothing.
“Our young friend has gone to sleep,” remarked Ramiro, reflectively. “Here you, Simon, twist his arm a little. No, not the right arm; he may want that to sign with, which will be awkward if it is out of joint: the other.”