Axton passed his hand over his brow in a bewildered fashion, hardly knowing if he were asleep or awake, then, with a sudden resolution of despair, flung himself on his knees at her feet.
"Judith! Judith! you must speak, you must. See me kneeling at your feet. I love you, I love you! I do not believe this vile story. In my eyes you are innocent. But the world—think of the world. It will deem you guilty if you cannot defend yourself. Judas has you in his power. He is a merciless wretch. He hates you. He will drag you down to infamy and disgrace, unless you can clear yourself of this crime. Speak for your own sake—for mine. Do not let this devil triumph over you, for Heaven's sake. Deny his foul lies, and let him be punished as he deserves. Speak, for the love of God, speak!"
Judith said nothing, but the quick panting of her breath, the nervous tremor agitating her frame, and the rapid opening and shutting of her hands showed how she was moved.
"She says nothing," said Axton to himself, as he arose slowly to his feet, "she is silent. What does it mean?"
He made one last effort to induce her to deny the accusation of Judas.
"You will not speak!" he said, in tones of acute anguish. "I have knelt, I have prayed; you are silent. I can do nothing. You are innocent, I'll swear; but I cannot prove it. No one can prove it but yourself, and you say nothing. Judith, listen! You are in deadly peril. Fanks is coming up to-night with Judas, and they will accuse you of this crime!"
"To-night?"
"Yes; they have written to Mr. Marson. They will produce the handkerchief. They will tell the story. You refuse to answer me; you must answer them. Fanks told me of this to-day, and I came up at once to warn you."
"It is useless! I can say nothing."
"You must say something. It is a question of life and death. The affair is in the hands of the law. Nothing can save you but your own denial. You must prove the falseness of this horrible story. It means disgrace. It means prison! It means death!"