There was the rustling of footsteps in the grass outside. Letting in a flood of moonlight, the door was pushed gently open.
“May we enter?”
Without waiting for a reply, a man padded noiselessly across the threshold. By his peaked head and the litheness of his body, Hindwood recognized him as Varensky. Behind him, with the mildness of attendant angels, Anna and the Little Grandmother followed. Just inside the room he halted.
“What's this?”
The bound face in the square of window had riveted his attention.
“Her husband.”
“But why—?”
Hindwood spoke again. “He had come to take her to be hanged.”
The pale face smiled contemptuously. “Hanging's only a way of dying. Was that any reason for making him suffer?”
Without further argument, taking command of the situation, he stepped quickly to the Major's side. Stooping, he cut the bonds and removed the gag.