Such was the Padré Jarauta.
Raoul’s face was before him, upon which he looked for some moments without speaking. His features twitched as if under galvanic action, and we could see that his fingers jerked in a similar manner.
They were painful memories that could produce this effect upon a heart of such iron devilry, and Raoul alone knew them. The latter seemed to enjoy the interlude; for he lay upon the ground, looking up at the Jarocho with a smile of triumph upon his reckless features.
We were expecting the next speech of the padre to be an order for flinging us into the fire, which now burned fiercely. Fortunately, this fancy did not seem to strike him just then.
“Ha, monsieur!” exclaimed he at length, approaching Raoul. “I dreamt that you and I would meet again; I dreamt it—ha! ha! ha!—it was a pleasant dream, but not half so pleasant as the reality—ha! ha! ha! Don’t you think so?” he added, striking our comrade over the face with a mule quirt. “Don’t you think so?” he repeated, lashing him as before, while his eyes sparkled with a fiendish malignity.
“Did you dream of meeting Marguerita again?” inquired Raoul, with a satirical laugh, that sounded strange, even fearful, under the circumstances.
I shall never forget the expression of the Jarocho at that moment. His sallow face turned black, his lips white, his eyes burned like a demon’s, and, springing forward with a fierce oath, he planted his iron-shod heel upon the face of our comrade. The skin peeled off, and the blood followed.
There was something so cowardly—so redolent of a brutal ferocity—in the act, that I could not remain quiet. With a desperate wrench I freed my hands, skinning my wrists in the effort, and, flinging myself upon him, I clutched at the monster’s throat.
He stepped back; my ankles were tied, and I fell upon my face at his feet.
“Ho! ho!” cried he, “what have we here? An officer, eh? Come!” he continued, “rise up from your prayers and let me look at you. Ha! a captain? And this?—a lieutenant! Gentlemen, you’re too dainty to be shot like common dogs; we’ll not let the wolves have you; we’ll put you out of their reach; ha! ha! ha! Out of reach of wolves, do you hear! And what’s this?” continued he, turning to Chane and examining his shoulders.