As she felt this, she raised her eyes for a moment, to see that Rasp was standing with his back to her and that she was alone, for all were now intent upon the diver’s actions, and commenting upon his work.
“He’s found out the place,” said one. “He’s got something—no he hasn’t,” and so on.
Just then Hester Pugh became aware of some one standing close by her, and turning her eyes it was to find that Lauré had crossed unnoticed to her side, where he stood as if looking over the bulwarks for sharks, but really all the time with his eyes fixed upon and fascinating hers, while to her horror she saw that one of his bare feet kept touching the tube.
“I’ve been waiting for this opportunity,” he said at last in a low whisper. “You tried to betray me this morning.”
“No, no,” she moaned, as the wretch placed his foot upon the tube, smiling at her the while.
“You will betray me in spite of my warning,” he continued in the same low tone; “and for this, because I will not have my plans spoiled, and partly because I hate Dutch Pugh and love you, my child, I am going to press my foot down upon this tube. Hark! dare to raise your voice in the least,” he whispered fiercely, as he saw her white lips part, “and it is his instant death. Do you understand? If I stop the flow of air for only a few seconds, he will be so startled that he will not recover himself, while if I double the time it will make assurance doubly sure, as you English people say. Swear now to me, by all that is holy, by all your future hopes, that you will not betray me.”
“Heaven give me strength, I cannot,” panted Hester.
“My foot is pressing the tube,” he hissed. “But there I know, sweet love, that you wish him dead, that there may be no hindrance to our passion.”
“Monster!” she cried.
“Hush!” he whispered. “Will you swear?”