His voice rose almost to a shriek in his excitement. He got up and looked towards the door as if he would settle the question by leaving the hut. Murkard sprang from his seat and held him by the arm. Both were grimly in earnest.
"Ellison, I believe in you. Your wife believes in you. You told her your history, you cannot draw back now if you would. It would kill her if she thought you had lied to her. She would never honour or trust you again. But you haven't. It is only your stiff-necked pride that brings you to this decision; but you must put it aside, I tell you; you must, man, to save her life."
"But I cannot; it is impossible! Don't you hear me? I cannot!"
"You both can and must. I intend to make you. Do you love your wife? I know you do. Then do you wish to be responsible for her death, and do you wish to kill the child as well? Is not one murder enough for you, for I tell you plainly if she has to leave this place, and you and she are thrown penniless upon the world, as you certainly will be within the next two months unless you find this money somewhere, so certainly will it kill her, and the unborn child too. And you will have only your stubborn, obstinate, guilty pride to thank for it."
"But I cannot do it; you don't know all."
"I know quite enough to be certain that it is your duty to save your wife's life at any cost to yourself."
"At whatever cost to myself—do you mean that? On your word of honour—may God strike you dead if you lie?"
"I do mean it. At whatever cost to yourself it is your duty to save your wife's life."
"You will remember what you have just said, 'At any cost to myself!'"
"I will remember."