“But, Alma, remember”—
“No, you must not interrupt me now, or what ought to be said may never be spoken. I know what you were going to say. You were going to tell me to remember that Olga Romanoff is still alive. Let her live—and let God judge her for her sins in the judgment that is so soon to come! What have we to do with her?”
“Nothing, Alma, after you have said that, for it tells me that in your eyes the stain is purged and the fault forgiven. I will take the message to her as to the rest of the world. If she receives it in peace then there shall be peace, and God shall judge between us”—
“And if not?”
“Then I will pit my single ship against hers and her fleet and only one of us, if either, shall see the end.”
“And if that is you—what then?”
“Then it will be for you—under Heaven—to speak the words of life or death, for only you can bid me live, Alma.”
“Only you can bid me live, Alma.” [Page 317].
As he spoke the great lights on the mountain tops suddenly blazed out, shone for a few moments, and were extinguished again. It was the answering signal to one from Mars; but it joined two souls as well as two worlds, for by its light Alan saw on Alma’s face and in her eyes the one reprieve from death that honour would permit him to accept.