In their absence Zastrozzi had arrived at the cottage. He had impatiently inquired for Verezzi.
“It is the baron’s custom to walk every evening,” said Bianca; “I soon expect him to return.”
Verezzi at last arrived.
Not knowing Zastrozzi as he entered, he started back, overcome by the likeness he bore to one of the men he had seen in the cavern.
He was now convinced that all the sufferings he had undergone in that horrible abode of misery were not imaginary, and that he was at this instant in the power of his bitterest enemy.
Zastrozzi’s eyes were fixed on him with an expression too manifest to be misunderstood; and, with an air in which he struggled to disguise the natural malevolence of his heart, he said, that he hoped Verezzi’s health had not suffered from the evening air.
Enraged beyond measure at this hypocrisy, from a man whom he now no longer doubted to be the cause of all his misfortunes, he could not forbear inquiring for what purpose he had conveyed him hither, and told him instantly to release him.
Zastrozzi’s cheeks turned pale with passion, his lips quivered, his eyes darted revengeful glances, as thus he spoke:—
“Retire to your chamber, young fool, which is the fittest place for you to reflect on, and repent of, the insolence shown to one so much your superior.”
“I fear nothing,” interrupted Verezzi, “from your vain threats and empty denunciations of vengeance. Justice—Heaven! is on my side, and I must eventually triumph.”