As if alarm had restored her exhausted strength, the unfortunate girl fell on her knees, clasped her hands on her breast, as if before a sacred image, then with her eyes fixed on the earth, exclaimed, "Here I am, murder me if you will."
"I have already told you that I will not harm you," replied the Unknown, in a more gentle tone, gazing at her agonised and altered features.
"Courage, courage," said the old woman. "He tells you himself that he will not harm you."
"And why," resumed Lucy, in a voice in which indignation and despair were mingled with alarm and dismay,—"why make me suffer the torments of hell? What have I done to you?"
"Perhaps they have not treated you kindly? Speak!"
"Oh, kindly treated! They have brought me hither by treachery and force. Why, why did they bring me? Why am I here? Where am I? I am a poor creature. What have I done to you? In the name of God"
"God! God! always God!" said the Unknown. "Those who are too weak to defend themselves, always make use of the name of God, as if they knew something concerning him! What! do you mean by this word to make me" and he left the sentence unfinished.
"Oh, signor, what could I mean, a poor girl like me, except that you should have pity on me? God pardons so many deeds for one act of mercy! Let me go; for pity, for charity, let me go. Do not make a poor creature suffer thus! Oh, you, who have it in your power, tell them to let me go. They brought me hither by force. Put me again in the carriage with this woman, and let it carry me to my mother. O holy Virgin! My mother! my mother! Perhaps she is not far from here—I thought I saw my mountains! Why do you make me suffer? Carry me to a church; I will pray for you all my life. Does it cost you so much to say one word? Oh, I see that you are touched! Say but the word, say it. God pardons so many deeds for one act of mercy."
"Oh, why is she not the daughter of one of the cowards
