Sorez knew this was the end. But he was a good gambler; having lost all, he accepted his fate with stoicism. He kept his head clear––clear enough to do the thing which marked him a man. He squirmed about until he faced the girl. With every ounce of strength in him, he shouted his final command to her.
“Awake! Awake!”
The girl stirred uneasily. The Priest reached for his knife, not understanding.
“Awake!” repeated Sorez, and his voice quivered with the intensity of his earnestness. “Awake!”
The girl trembled and seemed to fight her way to consciousness as one after a deep dive struggles to the top. She gasped for breath. Her eyes fluttered open, closed, fluttered open again. She roused herself to a sitting posture and the image dropped from her lap. 304 The Priest snatched it up as the girl shrank back from him. For a moment the two stared at each other. The Priest was held motionless. Then as Sorez hitched a bit to one side, he turned to his work.
Sorez hoped for nothing but a swift end. The cruel face of the other left nothing to question, nothing else to hope. But now that the girl had shaken off the influence of the image he was easier. There was but one thing left to try, even though the eyes looking down into his hinted at nothing of mercy; he must save the girl if possible.
As the Priest bent over him, he found his voice.
“Listen to me a moment. I have nothing to ask for myself, I took my chances and I lost. But the girl here––she is innocent of even wishing for your treasure.”
“Why then is she here?”
“I brought her here.”