Still the man hesitated, and at length inquired:
“Why do you wish to speak with her alone?”
“To try to soothe her spirits. I know it would be quite useless to tell you how entirely innocent this lady is of the heinous crime imputed to her; for even if you should believe her to be so, you would have to do your duty all the same.”
“Yes, certainly; and a most distressing duty,” put in the officer.
“This arrest has come upon her so suddenly, and when she is so utterly unprepared to meet it, that it has quite overcome her, as you see; but leave her alone with me for a few minutes, and I will try to calm her mind, and induce her to yield quietly to this necessity,” added Lyon.
“Well, sir, I am indeed very willing to do all in my power to make this sad affair as little distressing to the lady as possible,” answered the officer as he touched his companion on the shoulder, and they both walked off to some little distance.
As their retreating steps sounded upon the deck, Sybil raised her head from Lyon’s breast and looked around with an expression half-frightened, half-relieved, and murmured:
“They are gone! They are gone!”
Then clasping her husband suddenly around the neck, and gazing wildly into his eyes, she exclaimed:
“You can save me, Lyon, you can save me from this deep dishonor that no Berners ever suffered before! There is but one way, Lyon, and there is but one moment. You have a small penknife; but it is enough. Open it, and strike it here, Lyon. One blow will be enough, if it is firmly struck! Here—Lyon! here, strike here!” And she placed her hand on her throat, under her ear, and gazed wildly, prayerfully in his face.