“I only say,” continued Ross, “if this were the case; if a new trial were granted, if there was no lack of funds to pave the way through court, would you not, having a new trial, suppress the proofs of this former marriage? Might not your wife herself be persuaded to aid in clearing you?”
“No,” replied the prisoner, firmly. “It could not be. My wife pursues me with that strong hate which is born of baffled passion. Zulima ceased to love me.”
“Because she believed her marriage unlawful,” said Ross.
“It was unlawful. I have acknowledged it again and again. Zulima had nothing left—nothing but her freedom from the man that had wronged her to hope for. I would not deprive her of that.”
“And if the means were before you? If you could obtain a new trial, this first marriage, you are certain, would be proven against you?”
“I am very certain,” replied the prisoner.
“Remember, if they fail to prove the first marriage, you are free forever, and Zulima is your lawful wife. Is not this worth an effort?”
The unhappy man clasped his hands, and for a moment there broke through his sad eyes a luster that was perfectly dazzling.
“Worth an effort!” he said. “Oh, heavens! I would die but to see her look upon me again with love for a single moment.”
“Then why not make the effort?”