But now, at last, here was the worst moment of all.
"For the dear Christ's sake, tell me, Robert!"
How could he tell this?
This was his last moment of peace, his last chance of any help or hope.
He had begun to cling to her, to mingle foolish tears with hers—the while his fired brain ranged all the halls of agony.
For if he told her—this gentle Christian lady, to whom he had been so unkind—then she would never touch him more.
The last hours—there was but little time remaining—would be alone. Alone!
This new revelation that her love was still his, wonder of mysteries! this came at the last moments to aid him.
A last grace before the running waters closed over him. Was he to give this up?
The thought of flight lay like a wounded bird in his brain. It crept about it like some paralysed thing. Not yet dead, but inactive. Though he knew how terribly the moments called to him, yet he could not act.