Helzephron gave an almost imperceptible start, and a faint smile began to play about his cruel lips.
The fish was rising.
"It would be a martyrdom," I went on. "What is my life worth—even to the State"—I thought that was a clever touch—"in exchange for such a sacrifice?"
Praise God for her quick wits! She saw that I was acting, and fell into her part with supreme naturalness. A wail of pain came from her, and she covered her face with her hands. "I cannot let you die," she cried. "Do I not love you? Is not your life of supreme value?"
I spoke in a tone of hardly veiled eagerness: "But your own happiness, what of that?"
Connie made a passionate gesture of renunciation. She turned to our torturer. "Sir," she said, "have you no mercy, no compassion?"
"I have nothing but one overmastering need."
"Then leave us. Let me be alone with Sir John for a few minutes." She beckoned to him and he came, leaning his head low.
"Go," she whispered. "I cannot persuade him while you are here. Leave us alone and I will do my best."
The fool was wax in her hands. That one confidential whisper seemed to have transformed him.