"Have mercy, Señor," he cried piteously, "and help me to free myself from this reptile. It is crushing me to death."
The horrible thing with wide-open jaws was breathing in his face, and its fetid breath seemed turning him sick.
Don Juan laughed aloud, rather heartlessly it seemed to me, but the
Spanish nature is a cruel one to its enemies.
"I know the man," he said, "and I cannot understand what has brought him into this galère. Let us question him?"
* * * * *
I could not quite see that a man enveloped in the embrace of a boa-constrictor, even though the reptile might be tame and harmless, would be a person likely to give either correct or coherent answers to questions, but I acquiesced in Don Juan d'Alta's suggestion that we should try and get some information out of him.
He commenced at once; speaking in English for my benefit.
"What induced you and your band to attack the train yesterday?" was his first question.
"I don't know," was the answer.
"That is a lie," responded Don Juan, speaking quite coolly. "If you wish to get out of the coils of that snake, you must speak the truth.