"De brigands haf talk you ovair, an' dey will haf no price."
"What the devil is all that rot about?"
"Dey will haf youair blood."
"My blood?"
"Yes."
"And pray, my good fellow, what good is that going to do them?"
"It is vengeance," said Girasole.
"Vengeance? Pooh! Nonsense! What rot! What have I ever done?"
"Dat—dere—his blood," said Girasole, pointing to the coffin.
