With a half articulate cry of a wild beast she flung herself suddenly upon me, grasping her knife in both hands and raising it high above her head to give more power to her blow, aimed at my heart.
Had I not been warned by the expression upon her face when she saw me in the mirror, and been thus partially prepared for her swift attack, I might have died there at her feet.
CHAPTER XI
THE HIDDEN PASSAGE
A crown! what is it?
It is to bear the miseries of the people!
To hear their murmurs, feel their discontents,
And sink beneath a load of splendid care!
To have your best success ascribed to fortune,
And fortune's failures all ascribed to you!
It is to sit upon a joyless height,
To every blast of changing fate exposed!
Too high for hope! Too great for happiness!
—Hannah More: Daniel.
When Solonika hurled herself upon my breast she found me ready for her. I was not overborne by the shock of the encounter, and my eye never lost track of the knife in its descent. Instinctively I protected my heart with my elbows and caught her wrists with both hands in a grip of iron.
She struggled like the mad woman she temporarily was, but her recently dislocated arm robbed her of much of her power and she finally, under the pressure of my fingers, released her hold upon her weapon. The knife fell to the carpet between us. I crushed her against my chest as tightly as I could without hurting her, just as a boxer will run into clinches with his nimble antagonist to keep from getting hurt. The pain in her arm, and the knowledge that she was powerless against my strength in a physical encounter, and weaponless, brought on a quick reaction. Her body relaxed in my arms and she broke into a torrent of tears, more hard to bear than her desperate anger.
"Solonika," I whispered, "will you listen to me?"
"No, no, no," she sobbed; "let me go! Let me go."
"If I let you go will you promise not to attempt my life again?"