"No matter, good sir; that is not exactly what I stopped you for. You look to me like a man who might have enemies; or who might wish to employ me."
Sparafucile laughed shortly. "Well, you are not a very benevolent-looking chap, and I'd murder my brother for money," he whispered, grinning at the crooked, odious-looking Rigoletto.
Rigoletto eyed him. The villain had spoken almost as if he knew the dwarf's fear.
"I believe you," he muttered, looking steadily at the cut-throat. "You look it, every inch. What do you charge to kill a noble?"
"More than I charge for a churl, by double."
"Half before I do the deed, and the other half when he is dead."
"You're a demon," Rigoletto murmured; and certainly he himself was bad enough to be able to judge of a rogue when he saw one. "Aren't you afraid of being discovered?"
"No, when it is dangerous to kill in the city, I do it in my own house. There in the gloom of night, far away from help, it is easy enough. No one ever finds it out."
"You are the wickedest man I know--not excepting myself," said Rigoletto, contemplating the wretch with curiosity. "Tell me how you lure people to your home?"
"Easy enough. I have a handsome sister there. Nobody ever thinks of resisting her. She gets them to come; I do the rest."
"Then not a sound is heard. The knife is a silent fellow. Now what do you think?--that I can serve you?"
"No. I don't like the notion." Rigoletto was not half as daring of wicked deeds as he had been an hour before; the curse was still ringing in his ears.
"You have enemies, I judge," Sparafucile urged, shrewdly. "You'll regret not accepting my services."
"Nay. Be off. No, stay a moment! If I ever should need thee, where could I address thee?"
"You won't have to address me; you'll find me here each night."
"Well, be off, be off!" As a fact Rigoletto didn't much care to be seen with one of his own kind. But he looked after the _coupe-jarret_ uneasily. "After all, we are equals, that fellow and I. He stabs in the dark--and so do I. I with my malicious tongue, he with his knife. Bah! I am all undone. I hear that old man's curse yet. How I hate them, all those nobles who hire me to laugh for them and to make them laugh! I haven't even a right to know sadness. It is my business in life, because I am born crooked, to make sport for these rats of fellows who are no better than I am. I am hired to bear the burden of their crimes. I wish they all had but one neck; I'd strangle them with one hand." Overwhelmed with the exciting scenes of the night, he turned toward the gate in his garden wall. As he opened it, Gilda ran out gaily to meet him. To her he was only the loving and tender father. She waited for his coming all day, and had no pleasure till she saw him.