She seized on these words with avidity.
“As you please, monseigneur. Do it. Do it. Torture. I am willing. Take me away. Quick, quick! let us set out at once! — During that time,” she said to herself, “my daughter will make her escape.”
“‘S death!” said the provost, “what an appetite for the rack! I understand not this madwoman at all.”
An old, gray-haired sergeant of the guard stepped out of the ranks, and addressing the provost, —
“Mad in sooth, monseigneur.
If she released the gypsy, it was not her fault, for she loves not the gypsies. I have been of the watch these fifteen years, and I hear her every evening