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silence under the merciless lash. At last this remark of his gave me a
sudden rouse:
"Two months ago, on a Tuesday, you woke up, away in the night, and fell
to thinking, with shame, about a peculiarly mean and pitiful act of
yours toward a poor ignorant Indian in the wilds of the Rocky Mountains
in the winter of eighteen hundred and--"
"
Stop a moment, devil! Stop! Do you mean to tell me that even my very
thoughts are not hidden from you?"
"It seems to look like that. Didn't you think the thoughts I have just
mentioned?"
"If I didn't, I wish I may never breathe again! Look here, friend--look
me in the eye. Who are you?"
"
"
"
"
"
Well, who do you think?"
I think you are Satan himself. I think you are the devil."
No."
No? Then who can you be?"
Would you really like to know?"
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