"Oh! do not speak so loud, monsignor: he sees us and hears us! His eyes are open and staring at us." "And yet he doesn't know who we are, he has no comprehension of anything. What good does it do him to see and hear, when nothing conveys any meaning to his poor brain? Do not come near, Mila, if the paralyzed viper still frightens you; for my part, I must study the effects of this narcotic a little. They vary in different individuals." He walked calmly to the abbé's side, while Mila, completely bewildered, remained in the doorway and watched him with dismay. He touched his victim as the wolf sniffs before devouring. He made sure that the head and hands passed speedily from intense heat to icy cold, that the face lost its flush, that the respiration became regular and weak. "This is a good result," he said, as if speaking to himself; "and such a weak dose! I am well satisfied with the experiment. This is very preferable to blows, a struggle, shrieks stifled by a gag, isn't it, Mila? A woman can look on at this sort of thing without an attack of hysterics. This is the sort of method I like, and if it were well known, nobody would use any other. But you must never mention it, Mila, do you hear? for it might easily be abused, and no one, you see, no one could protect himself against it. If I had chosen to put you to sleep like this, it was entirely in my power to do it. Would you take a glass of water from my hand now, if I should offer it to you?" "Yes, monsignor, I would accept it," replied Mila, taking this challenge for a jest.--"He jests on all subjects," she said to herself. "He has a satirical bent like Michel." "So you would be no more suspicious than this poor abbé?" continued the Piccinino, in a preoccupied tone; for he was busily searching his sleeper, with perfect self-possession. "You forbade me even to smell that wine," replied Mila; "so you evidently had no purpose to play me a trick!" "Ah! here it is!" muttered the bandit, taking a wallet from the abbé's pocket. "Don't be impatient, Mila; I must examine this." Seating himself at the table, he opened the wallet and took therefrom divers papers, over which he cast his eye with tranquil celerity. "A report against Marc-Antonio Ferrara!--an obscure man; doubtless some husband whose wife he wished to seduce! Here, Mila, here is my flint and steel. Will you light the lamp and burn this? This Marc-Antonio will never suspect that your fair hand saved him from imprisonment. "And this? Ah! this is more important; an anonymous warning, addressed to the captain of the city, that the Marquis della Serra is planning a conspiracy against the government! The dear abbé proposed to get rid of the princess's cicisbeo, or to give him something to think about at all events! The idiot! he doesn't even know enough to disguise his handwriting! Burn it up, Mila; it shall not go to its address.