Tapping her cheek with pretended kindness, he resumed his pacing.
“Why the worst? Is that flattering, when I've spoken of our courtship? We're well matched in wickedness, if in nothing else. You're wanted for the scaffold, whereas I should have been hung long ago if I'd received my deserts. I'd be interested to know what you'd do, if you were in my place. How much mercy would you show me? You must own that merely to kill a person who has tried to drown you is too brief a punishment. The punishment I've planned for you is one that'll make you pray every hour for extinction. For a woman who has dispensed annihilation so lavishly I can think of nothing more just than that, when her own life has become intolerable, she should be refused the boon of death.”
She spoke humbly. “There's nothing too bad that you can do to me. But I'm not the woman who tried to murder you. I'm changed. I've learnt something. I learnt it from a man.”
He bowed towards her mockingly. “Your American?”
“My American, who can never be mine. I've learnt that even when we don't acknowledge Him, there's a God in the world who acts through us. It was He who saved me from the woods of Vincennes. It was He who prevented you from drowning. He had some purpose—a divine moment for which He waited. That purpose has yet to be accomplished. Who are you or I——?”
“I can tell you who you are,” he snapped: “a dancing-woman, with a price upon your head. As for myself,” his pale face flooded with a strangely Satanic beauty, “it would puzzle the wisest man to say who I am. To-night I am Prince Rogovich; tomorrow I may be Emperor. My puppets are mustering. By dawn they'll be marching. They're hungry; victory to them means bread.”
“But if one were to feed them—?”
“Your American again!” He gazed down on her, showing his white teeth and laughing. “What faith you have in the man! If your American is God's unaccomplished purpose, then God and all His angels are thwarted. The messenger I have sent to execute him will not fail; he has good reason to hate him. He's his rival for your affections. You were the bribe I offered him. You may rest assured the Captain's work will be done well. His turn comes next.”
Jerking back her head, he stooped lower, drinking in her despair. “Millionth chances come once, if then. Yours came at Vincennes. Cease hoping. Your American is——”
“It's a lie.”