"Who could?... We are alone here!... Bobinette you are alone here with me!"
There was a pause. Vagualame's voice was once more mocking.
"Am I to think you are afraid?"
"No, Vagualame, I am not afraid; but."...
"But you are trembling like a leaf!" cried Vagualame, with a burst of laughter which sounded strangely false. He seized Bobinette in an iron grip and forced her forward.
"Come! Come under shelter!" They moved towards the black blot Bobinette had not yet identified. Almost directly they were leaning against a gipsy van drawn up at the side of the road.
"Your future domicile," said Vagualame, showing the van to the bewildered Bobinette. "But this is not the time to install yourself—there are things to be said first—between you and me, Bobinette!"
The bandit was enveloped from head to foot in a dark cloak. All Bobinette could see of him was his profile: his features were concealed by a soft felt hat with turned-down brim, which showed at intervals against the sky when the lightning flashed and flickered.
The girl shivered: her master's last words were full of some dark menace.
"What do you want to say?" she murmured.