Frozen with terror, Zambinella lay back in a corner, not daring to
move a muscle. He saw before him the terrible face of the artist, who
maintained a deathlike silence. The journey was a short one.
Zambinella, kidnaped by Sarrasine, soon found himself in a dark, bare
studio. He sat, half dead, upon a chair, hardly daring to glance at a
statue of a woman, in which he recognized his own features. He did not
utter a word, but his teeth were chattering; he was paralyzed with
fear. Sarrasine was striding up and down the studio. Suddenly he
halted in front of Zambinella.
"'Tell me the truth,' he said, in a changed and hollow voice. 'Are
you not a woman? Cardinal Cicognara----'
"Zambinella fell on his knees, and replied only by hanging his head.
"'Ah! you are a woman!' cried the artist in a frenzy; 'for even a--'
"He did not finish the sentence.
"'No,' he continued, 'even _he_ could not be so utterly base.'
"'Oh, do not kill me!' cried Zambinella, bursting into tears. 'I
consented to deceive you only to gratify my comrades, who wanted an
opportunity to laugh.'
"'Laugh!' echoed the sculptor, in a voice in which there was a ring
of infernal ferocity.
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