Give the alarm, cry out, refuse to shelter me.

I will not hurt you.

But I will not be taken alive; and so surely as you threaten me above your breath, I fall a dead man on this floor.

The blood with which I sprinkle it, be on you and yours, in the name of the Evil Spirit that tempts men to their ruin!' As he spoke, he took a pistol from his breast, and firmly clutched it in his hand.
'Remove this man from me, good Heaven!' cried the widow.

'In thy grace and mercy, give him one minute's penitence, and strike him dead!' 'It has no such purpose,' he said, confronting her.