I might at least use the fact to induce him to allow nothing to be done that night; and the delay of a few hours might mean everything. I had calculated throughout that when the wild passions of all concerned in the night of horror had had time to abate, the craving for blood even of the most reckless of the reckless would cease. A reaction against further violence would be almost certain to follow, and counsels of sanity, reason and prudence would prevail once more.
The light of day and the hours of reflection would thus bring hope, and I watched the light increase with unspeakable thankfulness. But question Gatrina I must, and at length I went back to my seat and turned to her.
“We must speak about yourself,” I said.
In her absorption and suffering she had not noticed my movement, and started nervously at the sound of my voice; but said nothing.
“Your danger is not yet passed,” I continued; “and when the officers return we must have something definite to say about yourself.”
“I care nothing for myself,” she murmured, desolately.
“Your life is in danger, and you must care,” I said, firmly. I must rouse her by some means.
“If they covet my life, let them take it—after this.”
“I will not let you say that. You are speaking now under the influence of these horrors, and from the feelings of desperation which they naturally prompt. But you must think of yourself, and you shall. You have no right to throw your life away because things have been done which you were powerless to prevent.”
“Do you think I fear death? If they covet my life, let them take it,” she repeated.