and unmistakable.  It was a fretful voice of complaint.  Girasole was trying to answer it.  After a time Girasole left.  Then all was still.  Then Girasole returned.  Then there was a clattering noise on the stairs, and the bumping of some heavy weight, and the heavy breathing of men.  Then he heard Girasole say something, after which arose Minnie’s voice, close by, as though she was in the hall, and her words were, “Oh, take it away, take it away!” followed by long reproaches, which Hawbury did not fully understand.

This showed him that Minnie, at least, was a prisoner, and in this house, and in the adjoining room, along with some one whom he rightly supposed was Mrs. Willoughby.

After this there was a further silence for some time, which at last was broken by fresh sounds of trampling and shuffling, together with the confused directions of several voices all speaking at once.  Hawbury listened, and turned on his couch of straw so as to see any thing which presented itself.  The clatter and the noise approached nearer, ascending the stairs, until at last he saw that they were entering his room.  Two of the brigands came first, carrying something carefully.  In a few moments the burden which they bore was revealed.

It was a rude litter, hastily made from bushes fastened together.  Upon this lay the dead body of a man, his white face upturned, and his limbs stiffened in the rigidity of death.  Hawbury did not remember very distinctly any of the particular events of his confused struggle with the brigands; but he was not at all surprised to see that there had been one of the ruffians sent to his account.  The brigands who carried in their dead companion looked at the captive with a sullen ferocity and a scowling vengefulness, which showed plainly that they would demand of him a reckoning for their comrade’s blood if it were only in their power.  But they did not delay, nor did they make any actual demonstrations to Hawbury.  They placed the corpse of their comrade upon the floor in the middle of the room, and then went out.

The presence of the corpse only added to the gloom of Hawbury’s situation, and he once more turned his face to the wall, so as to shut out the sight.  Once more he gave himself up to his own thoughts, and so the time passed slowly on.  He heard no sounds now from the room where Miss Fay was confined.  He heard no noise from the men below, and could not tell whether they were still guarding the door, or had gone away.  Various projects came to him, foremost among which was the idea of escaping.  Bribery seemed the only possible way.  There was about this, however, the same difficulty which Mrs. Willoughby had found—­his ignorance of the language.  He thought that this would be an effectual bar to any communication, and saw no other alternative than to wait Girasole’s pleasure.  It seemed to him that a ransom would be asked, and he felt sure, from Girasole’s offensive manner, that the ransom would be large.  But there was no help for it.  He felt more troubled about Miss Fay; for Girasole’s remarks about her seemed to point to views of his own which were incompatible with her liberation.