It was evident that this woman was already an admiring friend. Could he not, in some way, work upon her so as to attract her to his interests? Her help would be invaluable. She might, if she chose, do much; she might even help him to escape. It was worth trying. To win her over to his side, there was nothing which he would not try. But how could he get her help? By bribery? Of course, to a certain extent; but it would be well to be cautious, and not offer too much. Other means might be used. By gaining her good-will, she would be more accessible to a bribe, and would be less exacting. Now, Russell was sharp at a bargain, and by no means anxious to pay more than he could help. Even where his own liberty, even where his life was concerned, he paused to consider the expense. He resolved to bribe this woman, but to name no price, to let it be undecided, to agree in a general way; and afterward, should he succeed in gaining his liberty, to cut the amount down as low as possible. He also resolved to put money out of the question as far as he could, and work upon her good-will and her affections, rather than her avarice. The woman's open, undisguised admiration seemed to promise an easy conquest. To him she appeared to have a frank, guileless, impetuous disposition, all of which was a great help to the furtherance of his designs. Russell looked all around. "Oh," said Rita, "do not fear--all away." "Come, my dear," said Russell; "sit down here by my side; I want to talk with you." Russell seated himself on an oaken bench, and Rita promptly seated herself by his side. She sat by him, and looked at him with a smile, and with the same fervid admiration. "The pretty child!" thought Russell, as he caught the glance of her glowing eyes. "How she does admire me!" "So you are an attendant here, are you, Rita, my dear?" he asked. "Yes." "But it isn't good enough for such a pretty woman as you are!" he continued. "Ah, senor, what do you mean?" said Rita. "What can I do better?" "But you ought to be something better--far better. Would you not like to--" "Like what?" asked Rita, who was full of excitement. "Well," said Russell, "to have plenty of money, to have beautiful clothes, to live in a beautiful house, to have jewels, to have amusements, and so forth?" Rita's dark eyes flashed fire with eager covetousness at this alluring speech. "Oh, senor," she said, "it is impossible." "Rita!" said Russell, in a solemn voice. "Senor!" "Look at me." "Si, senor." Rita had been looking at him all along fixedly enough, but at this invitation she threw additional earnestness into the deep glance of her bold, dark eyes. "You see what I am, Rita, my dear. I am a prisoner--in grief, in despair. Now, if any one would help me, I could do very much for that one." "You are a gran' nobile?" said Rita, in an inquiring tone.