“I beg and entreat of you. If you are caught here, think what will happen to me.”
“I have no discretion to think in such a case,” I answered firmly, although the sight of her suffering wrung my heart.
Almost before the words were out of my mouth she sprang forward in a wild attempt to seize my revolver. But I had been in too many tight corners in my life to be taken unawares, totally unexpected though the manœuvre was, and I wrenched my hand away and held her harmless with the other.
“This is worse than madness, mademoiselle!” I cried.
She gave up the contest then, and drawing away, fell into a lounge in an attitude of despair.
I had won the victory, but the fruits were too bitter. I put the revolver away in my pocket and crossed to her.
“Will you give me the papers?” I asked.
“No, I will die first, and so shall you! Oh God, how hard you are! I wish I had never seen you.”
“Then I will go with you to Brabinsk, and we can settle things there.”
She rose at once and shook off her emotion.