“Open it!” interrupted the robber, “and one half of you will never live to stride across the threshold. Those who do, will be witnesses to a scene which I know, noble captain, you won’t love to look upon.”
“What scene?” I involuntarily asked, as a horrid fancy flashed across my brain.
“A woman—a beautiful woman—with a poignard in her breast! By the Holy Virgin, you shall see that!”
I felt as if a dagger had been plunged into my own. I knew it was no idle vaunt. There was a terrible firmness in the tone of the brigand’s voice that told of his being in earnest.
“Let me take a shot at him,” whispered the sergeant by my side. “I think I can fetch him ’ithout touchin’ the gurl.”
“No—no!” I hastily answered, “Leave it to me. For your life, don’t fire—not yet!”
I stood trembling—uncertain what course to pursue. I had my own rifle in hand, and was considering whether I should not risk taking a shot at the ruffian. Under other circumstances I should have been confident enough of making a sure one; but just then I felt my nerves shaking through the throes of my excited heart. It was a terrible crisis. The sinews of Tell could not have been more severely tried, as he adjusted his arrow to the string.
The bandit seemed thoroughly to comprehend my hesitation.
There was something fiendishly exultant in the laugh with which he followed up his last speech.
“Now, señor Yankee!” he went on, without waiting for a reply. “I hope you are ready to accede to my request. If so, state your terms for our release; and remember! make them easy, or it will be impossible for us to accept them. I don’t wish to hurry you. As it’s a matter of some importance to both of us, and to her as well,”—I could see him nod towards Mercedes—“I beg you will take time to consider. Meanwhile, we shall retire, and patiently await your answer.”