Fray Arsenio was aware of the Count's jealousy, which he concealed so poorly, that, in spite of all his efforts, it was visible to everybody. Hence he understood that Doña Clara's secret had been revealed to her husband; and he foresaw the peril that menaced him for having acted as her accomplice. Still, he hoped that the Count had only learnt certain facts, while remaining ignorant of the details of the Countess' voyage; and hence, though he trembled at heart at the thought of the dangers to which he was doubtless exposed, alone and defenceless, in the hands of a man blinded by passion and the desire of avenging what he regarded as a stain on his honour, he resolved, whatever might happen, not to betray the confidence which a woman had unhappily placed in him. He raised his head and replied with a firm voice, and with an accent at which he was himself astonished-- "My lord, you are governor of Saint Domingo; you have a right to exercise justice over those placed under your rule. You possess almost sovereign power, but you have no right, as far as I know, to ill treat me, either by word or deed, or to make me undergo an examination at your caprice. I have superiors on whom I am dependant; have me taken before them; hand me over to their justice, if I have committed any fault they will punish me, for they alone have the right of condemning or acquitting me." The Count had listened to the monk's long answer, while biting his lips savagely and stamping his foot with passion. He had not thought to find such resistance in this man. "So, then," he exclaimed, when Fray Arsenio at length ceased speaking, "you refuse to answer me?" "I refuse, my lord," he coldly replied, "because you have no right to question me." "You forget, however, Señor Padre, that if I have not the right, I have the might, at least, at this moment." "You are at liberty, my lord, to abuse that might, by applying it to an unhappy and defenceless man. I am no soldier, and physical suffering frightens me. I do not know how I shall endure the tortures you will perhaps inflict on me, but there is one thing of which I am certain." "What is it, may I ask, Señor Padre?" "That I will die, my lord, before answering any of your questions." "We shall see that," he said, sarcastically, "if you compel me to have recourse to violence." "You will see," he replied, in a gentle but firm voice, which denoted an irrevocable determination. "For the last time, I deign to warn you: take care--reflect." "All my reflections are made, my lord; I am in your power. Abuse my weakness as you may think proper, I shall not even attempt a useless defence. I shall not be the first monk of my order who has fallen a martyr to duty: others have preceded me, and others will doubtless follow me in this painful track."