His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. His attitude was as different from Gianfrancesco’s as night was from day. But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. Even, I do not mind to study this Latin so abominable. The man’s hand flashed out, but immediately afterwards an oath and a cry of pain broke from his lips. I—In fact, I dislike him extremely. "All right," he said. “I have brought you very nearly to my door.
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