"And when you saw me indisposed—unable, in fact, to greet you—what did you do then?"
With the force and meaning of one who takes an oath, she brought her hand, palm downward on the table before her, as she steadily replied:
"I flew back into the room through which I had come, undecided whether to fly the house or wait for what might happen to you, I had never seen any one in such an attack before, and almost expected to hear you fall forward to the floor. But when you did not and the silence, which seemed so awful, remained unbroken, I pulled the curtain aside and looked in again. There was no change in your posture; and, alarmed now for your sake rather than for my own, I did not dare to go till Bela came back. So I stayed watching."
"Stayed where?"
"In a dark corner of that same room. I never left it till the crowd came in. Then I slid out behind them."
"Was the child with you—at your side I mean, all this time?"
"I never let go her hand."
"Woman, you are keeping nothing back?"
"Nothing but my terror at the sight of Bela running in all bloody to escape the people pressing after him. I thought then that I had been the death of servant as well as master. You can imagine my relief when I heard that yours was but a passing attack."
Sincerity was in her manner and in her voice. The judge breathed more easily, and made the remark: