THE RAT-KING
The days at the Bagnio passed monotonously. The rat furnished the evening's amusement, and in the same degree as Benedetto was excited, Anselmo remained calm and cool. On the evening of the 24th of February, the young man's patience was exhausted, and he forgot himself so much as to call Anselmo a liar and traitor, even threatening him with death.
"Come, come," said Anselmo indifferently, "don't be so violent. Instead of exciting yourself you had better be calm and tell me what relation it has with the million."
"That means," hissed Benedetto, "I should tell you my secret."
"You are a fool," said Anselmo, laughing; "remember that you can never get the million without my aid, and therefore leave off your sulks and speak."
"You are always right," growled Benedetto. "You have my fate in your hands and I must speak. The million, of course, must first be earned—"
"I am not so foolish as to imagine that the million will fly into my mouth like a broiled pigeon," interrupted Anselmo; "but first of all, I must know if you have some right to this million?"
"Certainly," replied Benedetto; "if the million should slip from my grasp, I should look upon myself as being robbed."
"Really—who is the thief?"
"A woman!"