"Master Michel," said the Piccinino, abruptly throwing away his cigarette and turning upon him with a threatening gesture, "it seems to me that you are a very strange young man to dare to rebuke me in this way, considering our position with respect to each other. You forget, I fancy, that I know your secrets, that I am at liberty to be your friend or your enemy; in short, that, at this moment, in this solitude, in this infernal spot where I may not be so entirely cold-blooded as you think, your life is in my hands!" "The only thing that I have any reason to fear," rejoined Michel, calmly, "is that I may play the pedagogue inopportunely. That part is not suited to my years or my tastes. I will remind you, therefore, that if you had not incited my comments by a sort of persistence in questioning me, I should have spared you the infliction. As for your threats, I will not say that I consider myself able to defend myself as powerfully and calmly as you would be likely to attack me. I know that, at a whistle from you, an armed man would start up from behind every rock in the neighborhood. I trusted to your word, and I did not arm myself to walk with a man who offered me his hand, saying: 'Let us be friends.' But if my uncle is mistaken with respect to your loyalty, and if you have led me into a trap, or--as I should prefer to believe for your own sake--if the effect of this spot is to disturb your mind and make you irresponsible, I will none the less tell you what I think, and I will not stoop to flatter the shortcomings upon which you seem to plume yourself for my benefit." As he concluded, Michel opened his cloak to show the bandit that he had not even a knife upon his person, then sat down, facing him, and looking him in the eye with the utmost coolness. It was the first time he had ever been in such a position, for which he had certainly had no time to prepare himself, and from which he was not at all sure of extricating himself unharmed; for as the moon, emerging from behind the _Destatore's Cross_, fell full upon the young bandit's face, Michel was no longer in doubt as to the ferocity and treachery of his expression. Nevertheless Pier-Angelo's son, the nephew of the intrepid Capuchin of Bel Passo, felt that his heart was untouched by fear, and that the first serious danger which threatened his young life found him proud and undaunted. The Piccinino, seeing how near he was, and that his own face was so illuminated by the moon, tried for a moment the terrifying effect of his tiger-like eyes; but having failed to make Michel lower his, and detecting no sign of poltroonery in his face or attitude, he suddenly sat down beside him and took his hand.