bent her to our wicked will.

"After all, he deserves it," she said, "and I'll do it!"

It is always sad to see anybody suffering from a loss of self-respect,
so I tried to restore the signorina's confidence in her own motives,
by references to Jael the wife of Heber the Kenite, Charlotte Corday,
and such other relentless heroines as occurred to me. McGregor looked
upon this striving after self-justification with undisguised contempt.

"It's only making a fool of him again," he said; "you've done it
before, you know!"

"I'll do it, if you'll swear not to--to hurt him," she said.

"I've promised already," he replied sullenly. "I won't touch him,
unless he brings it on himself. If he tries to kill me, I suppose I
needn't bare my breast to the blow?"

"No, no," I interposed; "I have a regard for his Excellency, but
we must not let our feelings betray us into weakness. He must be
taken--alive and well, if possible--but in the last resort, dead or
alive."

"Come, that's more like sense," said the colonel approvingly.

The signorina sighed, but opposed us no longer.

Returning to ways and means, we arranged for communication in case of
need during the next three days without the necessity of meeting. My