But in the terrible tension of their nerves and very souls they found they could hear a whisper fainter than any man could catch at all outside that door. They could hear each other's hearts thump at times.
“Good news!” breathed Denys, listening at the door. “They are casting lots.”
“Pray that it may be the Abbot.”
“Yes. Why?
“If he comes alone I can make sure of him.”
“Denys!”
“Ay!”
“I fear I shall go mad, if they do not come soon.”
“Shall I feign sleep? Shall I snore?”
“Will that———-?