Something in his tone told her that matters might be worse than that.
"Tell me the truth," she said. "It may be days before the water goes down. We may die here. Is that what you mean?"
"Unless I can make another way out, that is what may happen. We may starve here."
"You will find the other way out," Sabina said quietly. "I know you will."
She would rather have died that moment than have let him think her a coward; and she was really brave, and was vaguely conscious that she was, and that she could trust her nerves, as long as her bodily strength lasted. But it would be very horrible to die of hunger, and in such a place. It was better not to think of it. He stood before her, with his lantern, a pale, courageous, strong man, whom she could not help trusting; he would find that other way.
"You had better get down again," he said, after a little reflection.
"It is dry below, and the lamp is there."
"I can help you."
Malipieri looked at the slight figure and the little gloved hands and smiled.
"I am very strong," Sabina said, "much stronger than you think. Besides, I could not sit all alone down there while you are groping about. The water might come down and drown me, you know."
"It cannot run down, now. If it could, I should be drowned first."