“Come,” he said, “we will go out into the sunshine now.”
She raised her head, looking at him through half-closed eyes.
“I––I don’t want to move, David.”
He unclasped the hands from about his neck and, placing an arm about her waist, led her slowly out 201 into the corridor. She followed his guidance, resting her weight upon him. And he who had come into this foul place in terror and despair walked out in a dizzy bewilderment of joy. As he passed the open door of Sorez’ cell he hesitated. The evil prompting of his heart was to pass by this man––so to let him go forever out of his life. He had but to move on. He could find a refuge for the girl where she would be safe from this influence, but this would not be possible if he stopped to take Sorez with them. Once the girl knew the man was alive and in this condition her sympathies would be so aroused that she would never desert him. Wilson knew that he must decide instantly. To leave that prison without him was to leave him to his death. He turned towards the cell door; he had promised.
The man had evidently recovered his strength somewhat, for he sat upon the edge of the wooden bunk staring about him. He was alone in the cell––the Priest was gone! On the whole, Wilson was glad of this. He felt the better for not having the burden of his death, however richly it was deserved, upon his hands. The girl apparently was still in too much of a daze to recognize Sorez. Wilson spoke to him.
“Can you walk?”
“God,” he cried. “Who are you? You speak English!”
Wilson repeated his question impatiently.
“If you can walk, follow me and I’ll take you out of this hole.”