She was standing now, facing me, and she laid her hand on my arm.
‘You stand by women, you Englishmen,’ she said. ‘You won’t leave me to be murdered?’
‘You see I am here. Doesn’t that answer your question?’
‘My God, he’s a fiend! Will you take me with you?’
What could I do? Her coming gave little chance to her and robbed me of almost all prospect of escape. But of course I could not leave her.
‘You must come if you can see no other way,’ said I.
‘Why, what other is there? If I avoid him he will see I suspect him. If I appear to trust him, I must put myself in his power.’
‘Then we must go,’ said I. ‘But it’s a thousand to one that we don’t get through.’
I had hardly spoken when a voice outside said, ‘Is all well?’ and a heavy step echoed in the verandah.