From his voice and face she learnt that he was not only virtuous but firm. Her first glimpse had caused her to hope; her scrutiny almost made her despair. But this shadow of despair strengthened her determination, as those fight most fiercely who stand on the brink of a precipice with their backs to the abyss.
“It is my only chance,” she reflected. “If I fail with him—if he will not listen to my entreaties—I am lost, irretrievably lost. I can do nothing with my gaolers—who will be women against a woman and fierce men against the prisoner. I can do nothing with the governor, who is a regulated machine. This man is young and pious—he is in all probability inexperienced and innocent. So much the better for my purpose. He is human—is to be wrought upon—not by gold, but by words, and—well, we shall see.”
Absorbed in these thoughts she did not hear what he said to her; she only heard an indistinct sound, like the murmuring of distant waters.
When it ceased she glanced through her eyelashes, and saw that he was preparing to go. As he opened the door he looked at her compassionately.
She listened to his retreating footsteps till they became inaudible. Then she clenched her hands together.
“He started. I have made an impression on him—perhaps he admires me. Ah, I will teach him to adore me.”
She gave a laugh, and walked to and fro like a leopardess in an iron cage.
“He looked at me sadly as he went out. Good—that is well. I think he is impressionable, and has, moreover, one spark of pity for me in his breast. Out of that one spark I will raise a fire which may light me out of these accursed walls.”