I turned very slowly and looked at her. For the present it was evidently my best course to lead her to think that I had no suspicion of the unreality of the proceedings.
“You are ill.”
I gave a feeble smile and wagged my head slowly.
“Can you listen to me?”
“Yes. I—I thank you,” I said, in a half-indistinct mumble, and with a sigh as heavy as hers.
“It is horrible,” she replied with a shudder. “But they shall not do you any harm. If I could get you out of the house I would. Oh, why, why have you done all this?”
“I owe you my life,” I said, inconsequently.
“If I can save you,” she cried. After a pause she jumped up and began to pace the floor excitedly. “You are mad to set Barosa at defiance. You must see the uselessness, the folly of it, the utter madness. The whole city is up in anger against us. We are in hourly danger of discovery, even here in this house. There is nothing left for any of us but flight; and you choose such a moment to drive him to extremes;” and she continued in this half-distracted manner, as if speaking partly to me and partly to herself, and giving me a very vivid picture of their desperate situation.
But it did not agree with what Barosa had said. He had declared that if I gave the order for the officers on the Rampallo to be set at liberty, I was to be set free on their arrival. That meant a delay of nearly two days, and was therefore absolutely inconsistent with Inez’ statement that they were in hourly danger of the police raiding the house.
However, her long excited tirade gave me time to think things out; and when at last she ended with an appeal to me to write what Barosa required, I had decided how to reply.