They are this time in the cider mill of the hamlet of Gastelugain, near the frontier, waiting for the moment to go out with boxes of jewelry¹ and weapons.  
And it is Itchoua who is talking:
 
“If she hesitates—and she will not hesitate, be sure of it—but if she hesitates, well! we will kidnap her.—Let me arrange this, my plan is all made. It will be in the evening, you understand?—We will bring her anywhere and imprison² her in a room with you.—If it turns out badly—if I am forced to quit the country after having done this thing to please you; then, you will have to give me more money than the amount agreed upon, you understand?—Enough, at least, to let me seek for my bread in Spain—”
 
“In Spain!—What? What are you going to do, Itchoua? I hope you have not in your head the idea to do things that are too grave.”
 
“Oh, do not be afraid, my friend. I have no desire to assassinate³ anybody.”
 
“Well! You talk of running away—”
 
“I said this as I would have said anything else, you know. For some time, business has been bad. And then, suppose the thing turns out badly and the police make an inquiry⁴. Well, I would prefer to go, that is sure.—For whenever these men of justice put their noses into anything, they seek for things that happened long ago, and the inquiry never ends—”
 
In his eyes, suddenly expressive⁵, appeared crime and fear. And Ramuntcho looked with an increase of anxiety at this man, who was believed to be solidly established in the country with lands in the sunlight, and who accepted so easily the idea of running away. What sort of a bandit is he then, to be so much afraid of justice?—And what could be these things that happened long ago?—After a silence between them, Ramuntcho said in a lower voice, with extreme distrust:
 
“Imprison her—you say this seriously, Itchoua?—And where imprison her, if you please? I have no castle to hide her in—”
 
Then Itchoua, with the smile of a faun which no one had seen before, tapped his shoulder:
 
“Oh, imprison her—for one night only, my son!—It will be enough, you may believe me.—They are all alike, you see: the first step costs; but the second one, they make it all alone, and quicker than you may think. Do you imagine that she would wish to return to the good sisters, afterward⁶?—”
 
The desire to slap that dull face passed like an electric shock through the arm and the hand of Ramuntcho. He

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