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But who can describe the terror and anguish of the unfortunate

girl? Who can tell what passed in her heart? Cruelly anxious to

ascertain her horrible situation, she wildly opened her eyes, but

closed them again at the sight of those frightful faces. She

struggled in vain. The men held her down in the bottom of the

carriage: if she attempted to cry, they drew the handkerchief

tightly over her mouth. In the mean while, three gruff voices,

endeavouring to assume a tone of humanity, said to her, "Be

quiet, be quiet: do not be afraid; we do not wish to harm you."

After a while her struggles ceased, she languidly opened her

eyes, and the horrible faces before her appeared to blend

themselves into one monstrous image; her colour fled, and she

fell lifeless into their arms.

"Courage, courage," said Nibbio; but Lucy was now beyond the

reach of his horrible voice.

"The devil! she appears to be dead," said one of them. "If she

should really be dead!"